Take a decent helping of P.G. Wodehouse, a soupçon of Wilde's epigrammatic wit, then season with the bloodthirsty malevolence of Edward Lear and Roald Dahl, and you will have an approximation of the inimitable genius of Hector Hugo Munro (alias Saki), the most hilarious and savage exponent of the short story in the English language. His flawlessly-etched cautionary tales, which invariably involve wild animals, tell of country parties where upper-class twits and bores meet with fittingly macabre accidents, where the children are always beastly, and where his urbane and naughty young heroes get the better of their peers using barbed sarcasm and elaborate hoaxes. Saki exposes his upper-crust guests to the menace of Nature—always perched, just out of sight, waiting to claim its next victim.
British writer Hector Hugh Munro under pen name Saki published his witty and sometimes bitter short stories in collections, such as The Chronicles of Clovis (1911).
His sometimes macabre satirized Edwardian society and culture. People consider him a master and often compare him to William Sydney Porter and Dorothy Rothschild Parker. His tales feature delicately drawn characters and finely judged narratives. "The Open Window," perhaps his most famous, closes with the line, "Romance at short notice was her specialty," which thus entered the lexicon. Newspapers first and then several volumes published him as the custom of the time.
So far: so dry. Excellent bedtime reading. Every tale is perhaps three pages long and soooo arch:
" (...and I quote)
"Youth," said the Other, "should suggest innocence." "But never act on the suggestion. I don't believe the two ever really go together. People talk vaguely about the innocence of a little child, but they take mighty good care not to let it out of their sight for twenty minutes. The watched pot never boils over. I knew a boy once who really was innocent; his parents were in Society, but they never gave him a moment's anxiety from his infancy. He believed in company prospectuses, and in the purity of elections, and in women marrying for love, and even in a system for winning at roulette. He never quite lost his faith in it, but he dropped more money than his employers could afford to lose. When last I heard of him, he was believing in his innocence; the jury weren't."
(An ideal counterpoint to the very serious, rotten long Vollman tome I'm buried under at the moment, certainly.)
Saki acts as a daily spiritual guide for me. The take-home message is always that CHAOS WILL INVADE, AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT. Every short story in here is a delight.
Recommended by Christopher Hitchens so read and found the British humor and wisdom in the short stories worth the time:
"I love Americans, but not when they try to talk French. What a blessing it is that they never try to talk English."
"Who are those depressed-looking young women who have just gone by?" asked the Baroness; "they have the air of people who have bowed to destiny and are not quite sure whether the salute will be returned."
"In the course of the next few days Blenkinthrope discovered how little the loss of one's self-respect affects one when one has gained the esteem of the world."