Shogun, or Here Comes the Drunk Monk with a Quart of Ballantine

I finished reading Shogun, that 10lb brick of a book by James Clavell. You could build a house outta copies of this shit, yo!

But the story, folks, it's all like "I'm a big English stud and I don't bow to no Japs" and "We're big samurai jacks and we kick all that ass!" and "Yo this bitch is hott!" and "My name is Toranaga, you bow before me, goon" and "Ninjas, yo!" and "Get your hands off me, you damned dirty Christian!" In short, historical fiction kicks ass.

It doesn't have the frantic, breathless narrative of Dumas' Musketeer cycle (which had me bawling like Russell Crowe in Gladiator), but still I'm all like "damn, shawty!" It's tight.