Hello and welcome to my channel. And welcome to this week’s Wednesday Interlude
in which I discuss my reading progress of the books that I have been reading since last
Wednesday, and in which I turn the spotlight on Bertie Wooster and P.G. Wodehouse.
And if you enjoy these Spotlight On episodes and don’t want to miss future episodes be
sure to subscribe and ring the notifications bell.
But before that, I read The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara, which is a reconstruction
of the Battle of Gettysburg. I read this for the Try a Chapter Tag – Take Two, which
will be published on Sunday 26 May. So, I won’t say any more about it until then.
Now let us turn the spotlight on Bertie Wooster and P.G. Wodehouse.
Bertie Wooster is a fatuous idiot. Juvenile, foolish, immature, shiftless, useless and
a blot on society. Can’t help loving him. His memoirs are a delightful romp through
Edwardian society of the privileged rich who frequent clubs and country houses without
a care in the world, pampered by servants and whose greatest concern is to be properly
attired for dinner and social gatherings. We shouldn’t like this character or for
anything he stands for, but Bertie writes his memoirs with verve, sparkling prose and
the sheer joy of life, which carries you along, involves you in his petty concerns and provides
some innocent fun and it must be said, some dark and disturbing moments occasioned by
the presence of his strange and somewhat sinister gentleman’s gentleman, the controlling and
self-opinionated Jeeves. But first a little background information
on his creator, P.G. Wodehouse. P.G. Wodehouse was born in England on 15 October
1881in Guildford, Surrey. His full name was Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. His first name
was contracted to Plum and he was affectionately called Plum by his family and friends and
this was how he signed his letters to them. Wodehouse was a prolific author, he wrote
ninety-six books, wrote or collaborated in the writing of sixteen plays, wrote the lyrics
or some of the lyrics for twenty-eight musical plays, and collaborated in the libretti of
eighteen of these. He wrote more than 300 short stories, much humorous verse and the
scenario for half a dozen films. Writing in the 1920’s and 1930’s Wodehouse
wrote the lyrics and sometimes part of the book of twelve musical comedies which were
performed in London and New York and he wrote or adapted seven straight plays. His Broadway
musical comedies which he wrote in collaboration with Guy Bolton and Jerome Kern played an
important part in the development of the American musical.
Wodehouse achieved worldwide fame during his lifetime and his books sold millions of copies
all over the world. Leading contemporary writers praised him as a writer. Hilaire Belloc described
him as ‘the best writer of our time: the best living writer in English.’ and as ‘the
head of my profession.’ Evelyn Waugh spoke of him being ‘touched by the sacred flame,’
which ‘burned with growing brilliance for half a century.’
The University of Oxford conferred an honorary doctorate of letters on him in June 1939.
I first discovered Wodehouse in my public library when I was thirteen years old in 1959
while Wodehouse still had sixteen productive years ahead of him. I was enthralled by his
masterly use of the English language and by his unique style and consumed all the Jeeves
books I get my hands on one after the other. Wodehouse created many other characters for
whom he wrote a series of books, but my favourite will forever remain Bertie Wooster and his
servant Jeeves. I like the fact that the stories are written as memoirs from Bertie’s perspective.
The one novel that Wodehouse wrote in the third person, Ring for Jeeves, in which Jeeves
figures without Bertie is good, but not brilliant. It lacks that, watchumacallit, Jeeves.
I fancy you mean, Je ne sais quoi , sir. Exactly, Jeeves.
And, now, of course, I must give you a taste of Wodehouse’s style and Bertie’s flippant,
but delightful manner of writing and speaking. This is from page one of Wodehouse’s 1960
novel, Jeeves in the Offing. Jeeves placed the sizzling eggs and b. on
the breakfast table, and Reginald (Kipper) Herring and I, licking the lips, squared our
elbows and got down to it. A lifelong pal of mine, this Herring, linked to me by what
are called imperishable memories. Years ago, when striplings, he and I had done a stretch
together at Malvern House, Bramley-on-Sea, the preparatory school conducted by that prince
of stinkers, Aubrey Upjohn M.A., and had frequently stood side by side in the Upjohn study awaiting
the receipt of six of the juiciest from a cane of the type that biteth like a serpent
and stingeth like an adder, as the fellow said. So we were, you might say, rather like
a couple of old sweats who fought shoulder to shoulder on Crispin’s Day, if I’ve
got it right. The plat du jour having gone down the hatch,
accompanied by some fluid ounces of strengthening coffee, I was about to reach for the marmalade,
when I heard the telephone tootling out in the hall and rose to attend to it.
‘Bertram Wooster’s residence,’ I said, having connected with the instrument. ‘Wooster
in person at this end. Oh hullo,’ I added, for the voice that boomed over the wire was
that of Mrs. Thomas Portarlington Travers of Brinkley Court, Market Snodsbury, near
Dulwich – or putting it another way, my good and deserving Aunt Dahlia. ‘A very
hearty pip-pip to you, old ancestor,’ I said, well pleased, for she is a woman with
whom it is always a privilege to chew the fat.
‘And a rousing toodle-oo to you, young blot on the landscape,’ she replied cordially.
‘I’m surprised to find you up as early as this. Or have you just got in from a night
on the tiles?’ I hastened to rebut this slur.
‘Certainly not. Nothing of that description whatsoever. I’ve been upping with the lark
this last week, to keep Kipper Herring company. He’s staying with me till he can get into
his new flat. You remember old Kipper? I brought him down to Brinkley Court one summer. Chap
with a cauliflower ear.’ From 1946 until 1975 Wodehouse lived in America
becoming an American citizen in 1955. He was awarded a knighthood in January 1975
but suffered a heart attack and died on 14th February 1975 at the age of 93.
In this brief introduction I could only hit some of the highlights, but if you would like
to read more then check out the free resources in the show notes below. There is a full-length
novel for you to enjoy and a link to the TV series with Hugh Laurie as Wooster and Stephen
Fry as Jeeves.
Let me know in the comments below if after hearing the extract from Bertie’s memoirs
you are not tempted to try reading some of Wodehouse’s novels or short stories of this
character. There are 4 omnibus volumes available, such
as these. I can also recommend Wodehouse on Wodehouse
which contains three books that effectively make up his Autobiography.
In this week’s Sunday Morning Meet-Up I will be presenting The Try a Chapter Tag – Take
Two. So, be sure to subscribe and ring the notifications bell if you want to hear my
take on that Tag. So, That’s all folks! And remember to comment,
subscribe, like and share and I’ll be back soon with another BookTube Video.