Uncle Dynamite by P. G. Wodehouse

Source of book: Audiobook I own

I try to read at least one book by P. G. Wodehouse each year - and at that rate, I will likely die before I finish all of them. Dude was prolific and lived a long life. Anyway, here are the ones I have written about on the blog:

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

The Uncollected Wodehouse

Love Among the Chickens

Jeeves And The Mating Season

Summer Lightning

Cocktail Time

Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen (aka The Cat-Nappers)

Uncle Dynamite is a book featuring Frederick Altamont Cornwallis Twistleton, fifth Earl of Ickenham, otherwise known as Uncle Fred. For those unfamiliar with him, Uncle Fred is old of body, but juvenile of heart, always spreading what he calls “sweetness and light,” by means of crazy schemes and insane adventures. His particular victim is usually his nephew, the hapless “Pongo” Twistleton. I have written about two previous Uncle Fred stories: Uncle Fred in the Springtime, which is also a Lord Emsworth story; and Cocktail Time. 

As in the case of the latter, Uncle Dynamite is filled with literary references. Rather than Alice in Wonderland, this one is filled with Shakespeare references, usually in far less serious situations than in the original, which is part of the humor. 

Trying to summarize a Wodehouse plot is a bit like drawing a complicated flowchart or corporate organization. There are so many threads and complications that it can get confusing. Let me at least try to bring some order to the chaos of this book. 

Uncle Fred meets Bill Oakshot on the train. It turns out that they are neighbors. Bill is just returning from abroad, and is friends with Pongo. Bill also is the actual owner of Ashenden Manor, which is occupied by Bill’s uncle Aylmer Bostock, an overbearing and bombastic “dishpot,” as his maid describes him. Bill is in love with Hermione Bostock, who is engaged to Pongo, who is really still in love with Sally, an American girl who kind of resembles the other Sally from The Adventures of Sally, but is a different character. 

Pongo comes to Ashenden to meet the parents of his fiancee, and things go badly. Aylmer has a dreadfully tacky collection of African curios, and Pongo accidentally breaks one. And then, a bust as well. So Pongo substitutes a bust from Uncle Fred’s house (which is nearby), not knowing that it was made by Sally for purposes of smuggling jewels back to America without paying customs. 

In the meantime, Aylmer is suing Sally’s publisher brother Otis, so Sally wants Pongo to convince Aylmer to drop the suit. Oh, and the vicar has smallpox, so someone has to fill in and judge the “Bonny Baby” contest. 

Uncle Fred to the rescue. I’m not sure “rescue” is the best word here, however. Uncle Fred pretends to be expedition leader Major Brabazon-Plank, and has Bill invite him to Ashenden. Uncle Fred will then agree to judge the babies, steal back the bust, and set everything right. 

But there is more! Pongo is accused by a local policeman (also the fiance of the maid, Elsie Bean) of being an imposter. The real Major Plank shows up and is outraged at being impersonated. Hermione and Pongo quarrel, freeing everyone up to marry the “right” person, and Otis manages to sign Hermione to a book contract. Whew! And there is more, because things get a LOT more complicated before they sort themselves out. 

Through it all, Uncle Fred maintains his confidence and serenity, even as everyone else flips out. There is always a way through for Uncle Fred, and things always work out just fine in the end. 

As usual, there are a bunch of hilarious lines. In this book, many of them involve the fusty copper, Harold Potter. In this case, Sally has (for reasons) pushed him into the duck pond.

 

"I was assaulted by the duck pond."

"By the duck pond?" Sir Aylmer asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes, sir."

"How the devil can you be assaulted by a duck pond?"

Constable Potter saw where the misunderstanding had arisen. The English language is full of these pitfalls.

"When I say 'by the duck pond,' I didn't mean 'by the duck pond,' I meant 'by the duck pond.' That is to say," proceeded Constable Potter, speaking just in time, "'near' or 'adjacent to', in fact 'on the edge of'."

Or his tendency to use silly pseudo-legal phrasing:

 

“Like as it might have been.” As in “Something pushed me, like as it might have been a hand.” 

 And then, there are lines like this one:

 

A sticky moisture had begun to bedew his brow, as if he had entered the hot room of some Turkish bath of the soul.

 It is all in good fun, and the stakes are, broadly speaking, pretty low. That’s Wodehouse. He doesn’t address the deep issues of his time, but instead pokes fun of human nature in the most ludicrous manner possible. Ultimately, the characters who, like Uncle Fred, are able to laugh at themselves, are the ones who prevail. And the others? Well, they get their just deserts, which is usually to be made ridiculous. 

This audiobook was read by the late great Jonathan Cecil, who is my favorite Wodehouse reader. And that’s saying something, because Martin Jarvis is also superb. You can’t go wrong with either. What I like best about Cecil is his amazing ability to create distinct voices which are so consistent throughout that you can tell who is speaking simply from the voice. Wodehouse often contains slam-bang dialogue, and it really helps to know who is speaking at any given time. With Cecil, it is so very clear that you forget you are listening to a single person. From the suavity of Uncle Fred, to the timorousness of Pongo, to the bombast of Aylmer, to the basso profundo of Hermione - it’s delightful. 

 

Aunts Aren't Gentlemen (aka The Cat-nappers) by P. G. Wodehouse

Source of book: I own this in both print and audiobook form. We listened to the audiobook on a recent trip.

I have read quite a few of Wodehouse’s books over the years - he is my favorite humorous author. One can usually count on his books to be entertaining, witty, and utterly ludicrous. In any event, here are the books I have reviewed on this blog, along with an introduction to the author himself:

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

The Uncollected Wodehouse

Love Among the Chickens

Jeeves And The Mating Season

Summer Lightning

Cocktail Time

This book, like many in the Wodehouse universe, comes with two names. The original name in Great Britain was Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen, while the American edition was re-named The Cat-nappers. Whatever you wish to call it, this book was the last one Wodehouse finished before his death, capping nearly 75 years of writing. 

Aunt’s Aren’t Gentlemen is a Bertie and Jeeves novel, featuring the hapless aristocrat Bertie Wooster and his brilliant valet Jeeves. An unexplained rash leads to Bertie being advised to seek rest and clean air in the countryside. He meets up with his Aunt Dahlia (not to be confused with the terrifying Aunt Agatha), and sets out to have a relaxing time. This, of course, does not occur, because hijinks ensue. 

It turns out that, in addition to Aunt Dahlia, others of Bertie’s acquaintance happen to be in the neighborhood. His schoolmate (now a communist agitator) Orlo J. Porter has come to court Bertie’s ex-fiancee Vanessa Cook (now a feminist protester in her spare time). Vanessa’s father disapproves of Orlo, which is why she has been ordered back to the countryside by her father, who also takes a strong dislike to Bertie.

Mr. Cook also has a rivalry with Colonel Briscoe, a friend of Aunt Dahlia’s, over their racehorses, who are set to race in the near future. Aunt Dahlia has foolishly bet a large sum on the Colonel’s horse, and needs to be sure of her victory. To this end, she hires a local poacher to steal a certain cat (friends with Cook’s horse) so as to disrupt the training process. Naturally, this goes very badly, in part because cats go where they want once you let them free. In the meantime, Vanessa, frustrated with Orlo’s timidity, breaks it off with him and gets engaged again to Bertie, who does not want to marry her, but, well, he is Bertie and that’s how things go. 

It will be up to Jeeves once again to unravel the tangled web and set things right. 

As with all Wodehouse books, there is sparkling dialogue, witty repartee, a ludicrous plot, miscommunications, and slapstick humor. One thing I did notice is that Bertie seems a bit less stupid in this book - he actually manages to avoid trouble in some cases, and isn’t completely reliant on Jeeves for survival. I guess even he grew up a tad. Well, not that much, perhaps, but he isn’t stealing police helmets any more. To compensate, there is more equality in the witty exchanges with Jeeves, and the two seem partners in the sport of laughing at everyone else in the book. 

Because Aunt Dahlia is a key character, the nature of Bertie’s interactions are a bit different as well. While he is always trying to stay away from Aunt Agatha and her schemes to get him married, he is rather fond of Aunt Dahlia, despite her tendency to need rescuing from her own overreaching. Thus, you get lines like, “a hearty good morning to you, aged relative.” 

When it comes to Wodehouse audiobooks, there are really only two choices: Martin Jarvis and Jonathan Cecil. I have listened to both, and they both outstanding. Perhaps I would lean toward Cecil for Jeeves, but Jarvis for Lord Emsworth. But that is a matter of taste. You simply cannot go wrong with either of them. Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen was read by Cecil, and was predictably delightful. 

We greatly enjoyed this book, and can recommend it as a good place to start with Wodehouse. 

Cocktail Time by P. G. Wodehouse

Source of book: I own this.

A trip to the beach. (Okay, a trip to the beach to run the world’s greatest 10 kilometer footrace...blame my wife for getting me into running again, and into this race in particular.) Anyway, a trip to the beach requires a propper beach read. And yes, I know I am probably not the sort of person to ask for recommendations - after all, I once tackled Camus on a beach trip - but I do think that it is difficult to do better than Pelham Grenville Wodehouse for the occasion.

I am a big fan of P. G., and have been ever since my high school violin teacher’s husband gave my brother and I some of his old books. (We were his favorites, I think, because we were always happy to discuss Dickens and other Victorian authors with him. I also credit him with introducing me to Anthony Trollope.)

I have read quite a few of Wodehouse’s books over the years. Even though I am not a golfer, his golf stories are most hilarious, and one can usually count on his books to be entertaining, witty, and utterly ludicrous. In any event, here are the books I have reviewed on this blog, along with an introduction to the author himself:

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

The Uncollected Wodehouse

Love Among the Chickens

Jeeves And The Mating Season

Summer Lightning

***

Frederick Altamont Cornwallis Twistleton, the fifth Earl of Ickenham - known to Wodehouse fans more jovially as “Uncle Fred” - is one of Wodehouse’s most delightful creations. An older man, usually tied down by his far more sensible wife, he is a force of nature, a “chaos muppet” of the first water (to use a favorite Wodehouse expression), and a good example of what Psmith might have become given enough age. Wherever Uncle Fred goes, expect the unexpected, the crazy, the bizarre - and the hilarious, of course.

I first experienced Uncle Fred in Uncle Fred in the Springtime, which I read a few years back. He combines the intellect of Jeeves (and the ability to, well, fix things) with the exuberance of Psmith. And perhaps the aversion to battleaxe females of Bertie Wooster. In any event, he is a lot of fun. I understand that David Niven once played him. This sounds promising...

In this book, it is Uncle Fred who starts a whole cascade of crazy events, with a simple amusement. While out at the legendary Drones Club with his nephew Pongo Twistleton, he hears of a marvelous idea: shooting hats off using a slingshot and a Brazil nut. He immediately borrows one, and shoots off the hat of Sir Raymond Bastable, a rising barrister and possible future member of Parliament. “Beefy” Bastable and Uncle Fred also are old acquaintances. Bastable has no idea who did the dirty deed, but suspects the “young people” he sees laughing at him. Burning for revenge, he is given an idea by Uncle Fred, who suggest that someone with actual writing talent would write a scathing novel. Bastable takes this as a challenge, and writes “Cocktail Time,” a novel filled with sex, scandal, and a vociferous denouncement of the younger generation. He submits it under a pseudonym, and, after many rejections, it is published.

It remains mostly unknown, until, by chance, the daughter of a bishop is caught reading it, he denounces it from the pulpit, and the rest is history.

Except for a big problem. It isn’t the sort of novel that an aspiring member of parliament wishes to be known for writing. Enter Uncle Fred again. For a small fee, Bastable’s doofus nephew, Cosmo Wisdom, agrees to accept “credit” for the novel. But Wisdom owes a gambling debt to an American con man and his intimidating wife - and they quickly realize there is a deeper pocket they can plumb. Things get, um, complicated really fast.

Before things are wrapped up (with no fewer than four marriages), we meet a potty old literary agent - given to knitting and forgetfulness, a battleaxe housekeeper, Bastable’s sister - who resembles a white rabbit, a letter everyone wants for different reasons, yet another butler (of course), and a novelist who can never quite make ends meet. For someone of Uncle Fred’s resourcefulness, this is, of course, just an epic challenge. Between his imagination, his ability to impersonate, and his epically cool demeanor, everything comes right in the end, to great hilarity. (Well, except for the con man and his wife. After all, the “goodness and light” that Uncle Fred has to spread around has its limits, and someone is bound to be left out.)

Wodehouse is so epically quotable. I literally wanted to just reproduce a few chapters. But I did select a few of the best quotes to share.

The whole Britishism affect is hilarious. Not that any of the Brits I know really talk like this. But one can certainly imagine the denizens of the Drones Club doing it. How about this opening exchange?

“Yo ho,” said the Egg.

“Yo ho,” said the Bean.

“Yo ho,” said Pongo. “You know my uncle, Lord Ickenham, don’t you?”

“Oh, rather,” said the Egg. “Yo ho, Lord Ickenham.”

“Yo ho,” said the Bean.

“Yo ho,” said Lord Ickenham. “In fact, I will go further. Yo frightfully ho,” and it was plain to both Bean and Egg that they were in the presence of one who was sitting on top of the world and who, had he been wearing a hat, would have worn it on the side of his head. He looked, they considered, about as bumps-a-daisy as billy-o.

And, soon thereafter, the topic of the Brazil nut catapult comes up.

Lord Ickenham was intrigued. He always welcomed these opportunities to broaden his mind and bring himself abreast of modern thought. The great advantage of lunching at the Drones, he often said, was that you met such interesting people.

“Shoots Brazil nuts, does he? You stir me strangely. In my time I have shot many things - grouse, pheasants, partridges, tigers, gnus, and once, when a boy, an aunt by marriage in the seat of her sensible tweed dress with an airgun - but I have never shot a Brazil nut. The fact that, if I understand you aright, this stripling makes a practice of this form of marksmanship shows once again that it takes all sorts to do the world’s work. Not sitting Brazil nuts, I trust?”

Sir Bastable is decidedly NOT amused by the incident, of course. And he, like many a codger, would prefer that all those annoying young people stay off his lawn.

What had occurred, it was evident, had been one more exhibition of the brainless hooliganism of the modern young man which all decent people so deplored. Sir Raymond had never been fond of the modern young man, considering him idiotic, sloppy, disrespectful, inefficient and, generally speaking, a blot on the London scene, and this Brazil nut sequence put, if one may so express it, the lid on his distaste. It solidified the view he had always held that steps ought to be taken about the modern young man and taken promptly. What steps, he could not at the moment suggest, but if, say, something on the order of the Black Death were shortly to start setting about these young pests and giving them what was coming to them, it would have his full approval. He would hold its coat and cheer it on.

It occurs to me that Wodehouse was a solid 50 or 60 years ahead of our modern era, when the older folks seem to make dissing the Millennials (and whatever the heck my children will be called as an epithet…) But Wodehouse is indeed timeless for many reasons. Here is another. I remember as a kid the clergy of that time getting their panties in a complete knot over The Last Temptation of Christ, a movie which was mediocre at best, and would have died an obscure death had they not rescued it from oblivion by their vehement protestations. In this case, the Bishop of Stortford sees his daughter reading the book - at a particularly racy spot - and then, well, Wodehouse describes it thus:

At twelve-fifteen on the following Sunday he was in the pulpit of the church of St. Jude the Resilient, Eaton Square, delivering a sermon on the text “He that touches pitch shall be defiled” (Ecclesiasticus 13:1) which had the fashionable congregation rolling in the aisles and tearing up the pews. The burden of his address was a denunciation of the novel Cocktail Time, in the course of which he described it as obscene, immoral, shocking, impure, corrupt, shameless, graceless and depraved, and all over the sacred edifice you could see eager young men jotting the name down on their shirt cuffs, scarcely able to wait to add it to their library list.

This success, naturally, leads to the press wanting to know the real identity of the obviously pseudonymous author. And thus is set in motion the rest of the plot.

 I also have to quote Uncle Fred in a passage involving Albert Peasemarch. Said fellow is an old friend of Uncle Fred from the war. He is wealthy enough, but bored with idleness, so he takes a job as butler for Sir Bastable. He plays the part well, but this irritates Uncle Fred.

“Now listen, Bert. This ‘m’lord’ stuff. I've been meaning to speak to you about it. I’m a lord, yes, no argument about that, but you don’t have to keep rubbing it in all the time. It’s no good kidding ourselves. We know what lords are. Anachronistic parasites on the body of the state is the kindest thing you can say of them. Well, a sensitive man doesn’t like to be reminded every half second that he is one of the untouchables, liable at any moment to be strung up on a lamppost or to have his blood flowing in streams down Park Lane. Couldn’t you substitute something matier and less wounding to my feelings?”

It is this sort of thing that keeps me returning to Wodehouse every year. How about another? The senior (in many ways) literary agent of the publisher that takes on Cocktail Time is Mr. Saxby senior. He has taken up knitting - in a very serious way. As in, he rambles about turning the corner on a sock, and is constantly involved in making sweaters for his grandchildren.

Old Mr. Howard Saxby was seated at his desk in his room at the Edgar Saxby Literary Agency when Cosmo arrived there. He was knitting a sock. He knitted a good deal, he would would tell you if he asked him, to keep himself from smoking, adding that he smoked a good deal to keep himself from knitting.

My wife is seriously into knitting as well - she’s really good at it. So I have to tease her with this one. The knitting keeps coming up throughout the book, usually in hilarious fashion.

Another thread is Lewis Carroll’s most famous book. Several characters are compared to those from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, from Bill the Salamander, to the White Rabbit - who is the pattern for Sir Bastable’s widowed sister Phoebe.

One final line, which is so Wodehousian, fans will recognize it anywhere. Sir Bastable is about to reconcile with his old flame, Barbara Crowe (who is the real power at Edgar Saxby.) He discusses this with Uncle Fred, who has done his best to orchestrate the reconciliation.

“And what steps do you propose to take?”

“I’m going to tell her I’ve been a fool?”

“Doesn’t she know?”

I definitely laughed at that one. Actually, I laughed at a lot of this book. It is classic Wodehouse, with a twisted plot, goofy and memorable characters, and a witty and razor-sharp, yet good natured sense of humor. I recommend books to people all the time. Wodehouse is one of my most regular recommendations. Don’t expect profundity. But humor is indeed the hardest genre to write, and beneath the hilarity often lurks the germ of the truth we don’t want to acknowledge. If you haven’t discovered P. G. Wodehouse, by all means give him a try. If you have, well, he was prolific, so grab another of his books as a summer read.

Summer Lightning by P. G. Wodehouse

Source of book: Audiobook I own jointly with my brother.

My goal has been to either listen to or read one (or more) Wodehouse books each year. Given his prolific output, I would have to live a very long time indeed to finish everything he wrote, but it’s worth the attempt. In 2015, I read one, and listened to two more. Then I missed fitting any in to 2016, which is odd, but there you have it. I started 2017 off right with this book, which we listened to on January 2nd.

While by no means a complete list of Wodehouse books I have read, here is the list of the ones I have discussed on this blog:

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

The Uncollected Wodehouse

Love Among the Chickens

Jeeves And The Mating Season

Wodehouse (WOOD-house) books generally fall into four categories: 1. The Jeeves and Wooster stories 2. The Psmith stories 3. The Blandings/Lord Emsworth stories and 4. Everything else. Although I have read all of the Psmith books, I did so before I started blogging. Those will probably have to wait until I locate an audiobook version so the kids and I can listen on trips. The others are all represented in the above list. 

Summer Lightning is a Lord Emsworth story. It was published under the title of Fish Preferred here in the United States, which makes no sense whatsoever as a title.

Clarence, 9th Earl of Emsworth, is a good natured old chap, a wee bit slow when it comes to conversation. He is utterly dominated by his sister, Lady Constance...at least until he is pushed beyond his limits and he is forced to stand up to her. His hobby - and indeed his very life - is his prize winning pig, the Empress of Blandings. Also populating the Blandings universe is Rupert Baxter, formerly the Earl’s secretary, but now banished in disgrace - to the great consternation of Lady Constance; and Beech, the imposing butler; and Lord Emsworth’s neighbor and archrival, Sir Gregory Parsloe Parsloe, whose own pig is the only real rival to the Empress.  

In this particular book, intrigue and love have descended upon Blandings Castle, and, naturally, hilarity ensues.

Lord Emsworth’s disrespectable younger brother Galahad has returned, and is writing his memoirs. Gally had a wild and crazy youth, which is bad enough. But worse, he was a companion to many respectable aristocrats during their wild and crazy youths, and he knows hundreds of embarrassing and juicy secrets. And boy, does he intend to reveal them!

Not happy about this is Sir Gregory, who spent his 20s in dissipation and hijinks. Worst of all would be disclosure of the “prawn incident,” which the book never divulges, but mention of which causes great consternation. Also unhappy about the memoirs is Lady Constance, who, being an aunt and all, is a killjoy.

Love, on the other hand, comes via the younger residents of and visitors to Blandings. Wodehouse would never settle for something as boring as a love triangle. He insists on at least quadrilaterals, or, in this case, a love pentagon.

Lord Emsworth’s niece Millicent has fallen in love with Hugo Carmody, a penniless young man who has taken over for the banished Baxter as Lord Emsworth’s secretary. Hugo returns the affection, but he knows he must somehow win the heart of Lord Emsworth if he wishes to marry above his station. Meanwhile, Lord Emsworth’s nephew, the rather ditzy Ronnie Fish, is madly in love with Sue Brown, a chorus girl, who often danced with Hugo. Ronnie, to win his uncle’s affection, conspires to steal the Empress, then “find” her and be a hero.

Once the Empress goes missing, things start to get crazy. Lord Emsworth dispatches Hugo to London to hire Percy Frobisher Pilbeam, a private detective who is infatuated with Sue, to recover the Empress. Meanwhile, Sir Gregory hires Pilbeam to steal Gally’s manuscript, which is also being sought by Baxter at the behest of Lady Constance. And then circumstances conspire to lead to a misunderstanding between each set of lovers, and, well, I’ll stop there. The result is typical Wodehouse. Wit and humor abound, and nobody is exempt from being the butt of a joke or two.

I should say a word about the audiobook. From what I can tell, there are two camps of Wodehouse audiobook aficionados: those who insist that Jonathan Cecil is the only true interpreter of Wodehouse, and those who say the same about Martin Jarvis. Find a review thread on Amazon, and expect the discussion to get overheated really fast.

We had previously experienced Cecil, but not Jarvis, who narrated this book. I have to say, if you are going to listen to a Jeeves book, go with Cecil. Because nobody (except, of course, Stephen Fry) can bring Jeeves to life like Cecil. His work is simply outstanding. And really, all of the Wodehouse books he has narrated are top notch. Those who favor him are not blowing smoke. He is the real deal. I would even say that everyone should listen to Jonathan Cecil read Wodehouse at least once in their lifetime.

But, now that I have heard Jarvis, I will give credit where it is due. Jarvis is a legitimate competitor to Cecil, and has earned his place in the pantheon. While Jarvis doesn’t quite raise Beech to the Jeeves level, Jarvis is simply amazing at the other voices. This book has a wide variety of characters, and there is never a doubt about who is speaking - he makes each voice individual. I was particularly impressed that Millicent and Sue sound very different, despite both being earnest young ladies. Jarvis nails the inflections that each class would use. Galahad is also well done, with a distinctive voice that doesn’t really duplicate any other Wodehouse character.

But the very best is the way Jarvis handles Lord Emsworth. The stutter, the fear around Constance, the affection for the pig. It’s all there, and so very well done.

So, I guess I can’t pick. Probably Cecil for Jeeves, but Jarvis for Blandings. Jarvis would probably nail Psmith too, so I may have to seek out one of those.

Summer Lightning is a delightful and typical Wodehouse comedy, a light and pleasant read.

Jeeves and the Mating Season by P. G. Wodehouse

Source of book: Audiobook from the Library

Okay, so if it isn’t obvious, I love P. G. Wodehouse. This is the second Wodehouse audiobook we listened to on our recent vacation. Here are the other reviews on this blog, which represent just the books I have read since I started the blog in 2010.

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

The Uncollected Wodehouse

Love Among the Chickens

For those who care about all things Jeeves and Wooster, this is the second novel in the “Totleigh Towers” sequence of novels, commencing with The Code of the Woosters. In this group of four novels, Bertie is threatened repeatedly with the horror of having to marry Madeline Bassett. This is not to be confused with the equally horrid prospect of having to marry Florence Cray, in such books as Joy in the Morning.

Whereas Florence is an imposing female of great intellect and forcefulness, softened only by her “wonderful profile,” Madeline is best known for saying, with all the sappiness possible, “Oh, Bertie!”  “The stars are God’s daisy chain,” and, “Every time a fairy blows its wee nose a baby is born.” You get the idea. She is perfectly portrayed in the outstanding BBC series, Jeeves and Wooster (the brilliant collaboration of Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry) by Elizabeth Heery.

Both The Code of the Woosters and Jeeves and the Mating Season are prime sources for the series. The first gives the infamous “cow creamer” incident, and this one gives a case of swapped identities.

So here is the basic setup: Gussie Fink-Nottle, engaged to Madeline, has a fight with her, and drowns his sorrows with "Catsmeat" Potter-Pirbright, a former classmate of himself and Bertie. As a result of the shenanigans, he is arrested, and thus cannot make his appearance at Deverill Hall. If he doesn’t, it will get back to Madeline, who will then wish to marry Bertie, and so on. So Bertie impersonates Gussie, Catsmeat impersonates “Gussie’s” valet. And then, when Gussie does get free and shows up, then he has to impersonate Bertie, while Jeeves plays himself. Meanwhile, Catsmeat is trying to woo the heiress Gertrude Winkworth, who may be in danger from the outrageously handsome and dashing Esmond Haddock, who is secretly engaged to Catsmeat’s sister…

And, well, one could say about most Wodehouse plots, “complications ensue.”

Or perhaps, “hilarity ensues,” which is much the same thing.

It takes all of Jeeves’ legendary ingenuity to untangle this web before someone who actually knows Bertie or Gussie shows up and blows everyone’s cover.

Most of the Bertie and Jeeves stories are narrated by Bertie, who combines and obviously educated vocabulary with an utter lack of anything resembling good sense, which makes for stuffy yet ludicrous lines throughout.

One other thing of note in this book is that Wodehouse references his feud with A. A. Milne by tasking Bertie with reciting a Christopher Robin poem, and making it seem like a sore trial indeed. Like the great war between the respective fans of Brahms and Wagner, this one seems a bit silly in retrospect as both Wodehouse and Milne are now recognized as luminaries of British humor and fiction of their time.

My kids have really taken to Wodehouse, after we started them on one of the Jeeves books on a previous vacation. My older girls are big fans of Psmith in particular, and I can’t disagree with their taste. If you haven’t already fallen for the charms of ol’ Pelham Grenville, what are you waiting for?

This audiobook was read by Jonathan Cecil, who made quite a collection of Wodehouse audiobooks. If you can find them, they are outstanding.

Love Among the Chickens by P. G. Wodehouse

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

This book was one of the selections for our recent road trip to Colorado. I picked it because, well, who wouldn’t want to read a book entitled Love Among the Chickens by that Wodehouse fellow.

I am quite fond of Wodehouse, to say the least, having been introduced to him in my teens by my violin teacher’s husband.

Here are the previous Wodehouse posts on this blog:

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

The Uncollected Wodehouse

This book was published in 1909, making it one of Wodehouse’s earliest novels. Indeed, it predated both the Psmith books and the Bertie and Jeeves stories, to say nothing of Lord Emsworth. It is also the only full length novel featuring Stanley Featherstonehaugh Ukridge. (YOOK-ridge - which I was unclear on before hearing this. I assume Jonathan Cecil knows what he is doing.)

Ukridge is of the same breed as Beriah Sellers (created by Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner in The Gilded Age, reviewed here), the gregarious and persuasive personality, ever ready with a get-rich-quick scheme, and always lacking ready funds. Ukridge convinces the narrator, his friend Jeremy Garnet, a successful pulp novelist, to assist him in starting a chicken farm. Never mind that neither Garnet nor Ukridge, nor his long-suffering wife have zero knowledge or experience. Ukridge considers this a virtue: no preconceived notions to get in the way of success!

In typical Wodehouse fashion, hijinks ensue, complicated by, of course, a girl. Garnet falls madly in love with the daughter of a professor who is spending his summer in the country. Ukridge manages to mess everything up, and Garnet decides to risk it all in a stunt straight from one of his own novels.

I won’t attempt to go further than that with the plot. No sense in spoiling the fun. Although this is an early work, it showcases the comic timing, sense of the absurd, and thoroughly British humor that would characterize the mature Wodehouse. Ukridge may not be quite as subtle as Psmith, or as naive as Lord Emsworth, but he is quite memorable, and a fine example of a Wodehousian character. The plot, as usual, is well thought out, full of twists and turns and inspired silliness.

A few things appear in this book which presage future Wodehouse fixtures. First is the appearance of a butler. Beale isn’t Jeeves, obviously. There is only one Jeeves, and everyone else is just an imitation. But Beale is recognizably a British butler, resourceful and laconic, with a good deal more common sense than either of the main characters.

Second is an extended golf scene which is crucial to the plot. I’m not a golfer. But Wodehouse’s golf stories are hilarious and full of memorable lines. ("I killed him with my niblick," said Celia.

I nodded. If the thing was to be done at all, it was unquestionably a niblick shot.)

This audiobook was narrated by the late Jonathan Cecil, known for his work on the screens, stage, and radio. The Spectator once called him “one of the finest upper-class-twits of his era,” which makes me laugh just to say. In any event, he does a truly outstanding job on this book (and his other Wodehouse books - of which there are many). Each character, male or female, gets a distinctive voice and style, making the dialogue easy to follow. While I am partial to printed books as a general rule, I recommend that everyone experience a Wodehouse book as a Cecil narration at least once. It’s that delightful.

The Uncollected Wodehouse

Source of book: Lent to me by my friend Peter, who, among his many good qualities combines a love for Wodehouse and the good sense to visit Powell’s whenever he finds himself in Portland.

I have made it my goal to read at least one Wodehouse book per year. This won’t get me through his entire output unless I live an extraordinarily long life, but it’s worth a shot.

Previous Wodehouse reviews on this blog:

Introduction to P. G. Wodehouse

Uncle Fred in the Springtime 

The Adventures of Sally

Biffen’s Millions

Thank You Jeeves

This particular book contains previously uncollected works from the very dawn of Wodehouse’s career. There are a number of the more obscure short stories, including an unpublished “Reggie Pepper” story. (Pepper was the prototype for Bertie Wooster.) In addition, there are a number of miscellaneous bits that Wodehouse wrote for newspapers and magazines, before he made his name enough to set off on his own as a writer.

As typical for juvenalia, these works are a bit uneven, and do not capture the full Wodehouse experience - although his future genius shows through in bits. Several are quite hilarious indeed, but they are not quite unmistakably “Wodehouse,” as he appears in the mature works. Eh, they are fun anyway. I laughed at a number of lines.

So, I would not recommend them as a first Wodehouse experience, but as a bit of fun for the confirmed fan.

One of the fun things about this collection is seeing some new perspectives on the author and on the times he lived in. Wodehouse finally made his break in 1909 from salaried work, and went freelance after he sold a story to...Cosmopolitan. One must imagine that said publication has taken a sad journey down the ladder of taste to go from ol’ Pelham Grenville to “10 Ways to Transform Your Makeup In Under 60 Seconds.” Now if Wodehouse had written that article, it would have been great.

It was also interesting to read his poetry. Well, doggerel poetry, at least. Wodehouse also wrote lyrics for musical stage productions, so he could certainly make a humorous rhyme. In this case, he sold a few poems telling of the misadventures of love, with plots similar to some of his later short stories.

One of the best bits, in my opinion, is “The New Advertising,” a short bit indulging in a fantasy about what honest advertisements would look like.

For a patent medicine:

“We Hate to Seem to Boast,

but

Many Who have Tried It Are Still

Alive”

For a novel entitled The Dyspepsia of the Soul (the very name makes me laugh):

“We advise all insomniacs to read Mr. Logroller’s soporific pages.”

Also worth a chuckle was “My Battle With Drink.” The narrator finally manages to kick his addition to the unhealthy and socially dubious ice cream sundae by replacing it with the more hale and healthy habit of booze.

Another short bit with a twist is “My Life As A Dramatic Critic,” in which the narrator notes, “If I say a piece is bad, it dies. It may not die instantly. Generally, it takes forty weeks in New York and a couple of seasons on the road to do it, but it cannot escape its fate.”

Snappy lines eventually became one of his calling cards, which he combined with an utter lack of seriousness about everything. In “Misunderstood,” a low level pickpocket sort gets accosted by a policeman, and finds himself a bit tongue-tied.

“Um,” said Mr. Buffin. If he had a fault as a conversationalist, it was a certain tendency to monotony, a certain lack of sparkle and variety in his small talk.

These little witticisms can be missed if you read carelessly, because Wodehouse doesn’t always telegraph them in advance. Blink, and you might miss it.

Another one that I couldn’t resist noting is from “The Best Sauce.” The heroine is dreading the presence of a certain young suitor.

There is a type of man who makes love with the secrecy and sheepish reserve of a cowboy shooting up a Wild West saloon. To this class Peter belonged.

Speaking of young men with odd courting habits:

“The fact that we cannot meet without your endeavoring to plant a temperamental left jab on my spiritual solar plexus encourages me to think that you are beginning at last to understand that we are affinities. To persons of spirit like ourselves the only happy marriage is that which is based on a firm foundation of almost incessant quarreling.”

I should also mention “Death at the Excelsior,” which is an actual mystery story. Well, with a Wodehousian twist, of course. He prefaces it with a gripe about women being allowed into mysteries. Because they inevitably end up getting “shoved into cupboards with a bag over her head.” Wodehouse also sends up a few other tropes: the ticking bomb, the dumb “heavy,” the incompetent minions, and so on. And then, he proceeds to write a remarkably serious mystery story, except with the right kind of intelligent woman involved.

One last one: I know a number of real writers (as opposed to people like me that write little blogs for fun and not profit), and rejection letters are a way of life, even for those who eventually break through. Wodehouse clearly got it, and wrote a hilarious little bit featuring those disappointing letters. You can read it for free online here: “An Unfinished Collection.”