As background while I am plowing through some financials, I had on a semi-documentary about the prelude to the 1066 Norman conquest of Britain. Fascinating stories of Viking raids in the north that same year, which exhausted the English forces, even though they dealt the Northmen a surprising and decisive blow from which they never recovered. Three hundred dragon ships arrived to pillage the island and only twenty-two returned to the fjords.
But then William came across the channel, contesting Harold's claim to Edward the Confessor's throne, and altered England forever.
Later, still plowing through paperwork, I watched one of those English mystery series, with a detective seeking evildoers among the aristocracy, post-war. (You can tell how old I am because post-war immediately means post-WWII to me still.) Anyway, they had one of the staple characters of these stories: the coldhearted, angry and bitter --at a man or men in general--, heavily-made-up upper class English female murder.
I've noticed this before, but even adjusting for the genre, the Brits do come across as extraordinarily angry people, ready to explode under those tightly controlled exteriors.
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