I'm not one of those who automatically turn to Wodehouse for comfort reading. But I needed to finish some book, and Psmith, Journalist was the first one I came to which fitted these criteria:
- I would feel like I'd achieved something by reading it. (It's on the BBC 2019 "Novels that Shaped Our World" list. Having read it, I'd guess it was a teenage favourite of a panellist, because it's harder to imagine loving this story if reading it first time in middle age)
- Yet it also seemed relatively inconsequential, and I wouldn't feel I had to think deeply about it and pore over every word
(People don't talk about it much, apart from that BBC list, and only 3 GR friends have even shelved it.)
- It was written and set at a time when people were used to serious infectious disease (published 1915)
- short
It passed the time amicably enough, but I found a lot of it very silly, and not in the best way.
- The wrong sort of fantasy. An ambitious reporter in maybe his mid-twenties, stuck working for a magazine not unlike the People's Friend, befriends a couple of rich foreign 20-year olds he meets in a bar and lets one of them turn the magazine into an investigative journalism and sports outlet? This would all sound a lot of fun if you were reading it aged 14 or something (I'd guess whichever BBC panellists loved it discovered it as teenagers), but if you're twice Psmith's age and reading this for the first time, it's less believable than a bunch of wizards, elves and talking animals.
- The Noo Yawk gangsters' speech looks (to me, a 21st century Brit) more like a mixture of Chicago and the way African-American speech used to be written by white writers 100+ years ago. Generally, the Americans are all stereotypes and I imagined them as Hanna Barbera cartoons. I'm not sure whether it would help or hinder enjoyment of the novel to have more background knowledge than merely having seen the film Gangs of New York 18 years ago - but I'd love to know what someone who knew a lot about these gangs thought of Psmith, Journalist.
- Psmith - perhaps it stands out because no other character talks like him - has that jovial, ornate unintentional pomposity now found mostly in middle-aged geek-goth men who wear Terry Pratchett hats with long coats, were into real ale long before it was fashionable, and are serious about Linux or swords, or sometimes both. I often quite like these people; however when they appear in fiction it is usually as figures of fun. I suppose I can't quite place Psmith; I don't understand how he's supposed to seem to his contemporaries and he feels incongruous now. (I preferred him in Leave It to Psmith where, being slightly older and an assistant to elder characters, he seemed less ridiculous.)
- Old Etonians winging it with their harebrained schemes (Psmith is one) have become less of a fun subject for quite a lot of people in Britain over the last few years.
- There is something a little too frustratingly easy in the way Psmith solves a big problem by being very rich and buying his way out of it.
- The structure is odd sometimes. There isn't a detailed scene about preparing the crucial new first issue, the nerves as it goes to press, its reception etc, as you would expect from a story about journalism. It often feels unclear how much time has elapsed, and there isn't enough info about what is in subsequent issues of the mag. It feels as if it was a draft where the author had thought he'd go back and write those bits later because he didn't feel inspired on the first couple of goes.
On the plus side:
- It is curious and interesting to see Wodehouse writing about social issues: namely slum landlords, corruption in local politics and the police (albeit in the USA) - and Psmith stands up against other characters who denigrate others based on ethnic stereotypes. (This is back when Italian Americans, Irish Americans etc were still 'ethnic'.) There are a few historically revealing details, such as the urban gangsters mostly being stunted (inevitably one imagines the Ant Hill Mob), whilst guys from the midwest are strapping and healthy.
However the cartoonish nature of many of the characters, who felt more predictable and less rounded than Wodehouse's usual array of English gentry, takes away from all this a little.
- It is kind of "Famous Five do journalism", with grown-up level crime stakes. That may sound good or bad, and I think it sounds more fun in retrospect than it was to read at the time.
- It is all very genial and wraps up nicely; all's well that ends well, as so many readers want from Wodehouse.
This could have been a lot worse and I am still happy to have read it. But I am concluding more and more that the only Wodehouse I really enjoy is the Blandings series.
(read & reviewed late March 2020)