The fifth book of The Rabbit of Usk takes our hero into a world of aimless wandering. Nor does the title Aimless Wandering have the standup and count me expected from a writer of pulp. And here I could just call the fifth book Pointlessness, but that wouldn't be a proper reflection because there's always something. So I'm going to call it The Windral.
And there might be those who question the word Windral. So far as I can tell
it's not a word that appears in the dictionaries, which means it has no honest
definition and could be a name someone might have given to a rowing boat, or a
mobile home. All the same the word pops the blackberry wine cork for me
as an overall description of our hero's experience of the years that followed
his release from the Barracks of the English .