I've recently been very interested to watch the genealogies of various celebrities unfold whilst watching numerous episodes of Who Do You Think You Are? which has proved to be compulsive viewing.

The stories unearthed by the diligent historical detective can prove quite fascinating, providing unexpected twists and turns together with equal measures of sorrow or joy for the individual involved.

But as far as my own family history goes, i'm tempted to take the view that simply wondering and dreaming of where i came from is preferable to actually knowing the dreary truth of the matter.

Was it really an ancestor of mine who published A Gentleman's Guide To Terrorising Wenches In The Shires & Counties Of Merrie Olde England?

How many leaves of the stalwart family tree habitually trembled with lustful desire and frequently brought down scandal after scandal upon their own foolish heads?

Do i share my genes with the poor 17th century parson who was hounded out of his parish by hoardes of outraged villagers brandishing flaming torches?

What unspoken tales of unseemly behaviour lie mouldering away in the dusty family vaults?

All will be revealed in the fullness of time, of course, and i may have rather more fun in inventing my origins to suit personal taste rather than facing the possibility that i am merely descended from a long line of humble folk who perpetually dreamt of infamy and and notoriety without once attaining so much as a sniff of it.
henry-cavill