[9/10]
Once again P.G.Wodehouse explores the subject of romance in this new Jeeves and Wooster novel. It is somewhat inevitable, because:
This is springtime, the mating season, when, as you probably know, a livelier iris gleams upon the burnished dove and a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
As a result of a hilarious opening scene involving Gussie-Fink-Nottle, the search for newts inside the fountain in Trafalgar Square and a policeman, Bertie is forced to intervene in order to save his relationship with Madeline Bassett. He reluctantly leaves the comfort of his London apartment for a weekend in the country at Deverill Hall, Hampshire. In this idyllic location ( one of those villages where picturesque cottages breed like rabbits ) , Cupid has been real busy and only the stalwart Jeeves could hope to unravel the tangled relationships involving : Claude Cattermole Pirbright - a.k.a. Catsmeat, his sister Cora Pirbright a.k.a. Corky - a persuasive young gumboil and former partner of Bertie in dancing school, Esmond Haddock - amateur singer at village festivals, his cousin Gertrude Winkworth, Queenie - a parlourmaid at Deverill Hall and her beau - village Constable Ernest Dobbs. Complicating matters as usual are a bevy of aunts - no less than five, when usually one is more than enough. Adding to the mayhem are Bertie's nephew Thomas and a dog with an intense animosity for policemen.
In all this romance saturated atmosphere, Bertie Wooster is the only one who regards marriage with dread, as exemplified in this dialogue with Jeeves:
- I tell you Jeeves, the spirits are low. I don't know if you have been tied hand and foot to a chair in front of a barrell of gunpowder with an inch of lighted candle on top of it?
- No, sir, I have not had the experience.
- Well, that's how I'm feeling. I'm just clenching the teeth and waiting for the bang.
His Nemesis is once again Madeline Bassett, an encounter between the two producing my favorite scene from the book, when in trying to retrieve a compromising letter, Bertie is caught in flagrante and compared to a tragedy stricken lover from a book by Rosie M. Banks.
As usual for a P. G. Wodehouse novel, his similes are insanely hilarious, like this introduction of reverend Sidney Pirbright : A tall, drooping man, looking as if he has been stuffed in a hurry by an incompetent taxidermist . My respect for him as an author was raised to a new high when I come upon this passage, where he rips the "fourth wall" and addresses the reader directly with his professional credo:
In dishing up this narrative for family consumption, it has been my constant aim throughout to get the right word in the right place and to avoid fobbing the customers off with something weak and inexpressive when they have a right to expect the telling phrase. It means a bit of extra work, but one has one's code.
The passage was originated when the author, not satisfied with the word "came" in a previous phrase, replaced it with "curvetted". To give an idea of his incredible range, here is what Wodehouse substitutes in the book for "drunk" :
- scrooched,
- fried to the tonsils,
- pie-eyed,
- lathered,
- a mite polluted,
- doing the Lost Weekend,
- getting tight,
- pleasantly mellowed
I've reached the end of the book, as usual, with a happy smile on my face, and with the pleasant thought that there are still so many books by the author waiting patiently for their turn on my reading list.