When I think about Wodehouse’s work, a few images come to mind: Jeeves coolly and brilliantly elucidating a solution to Bertie’s problems; Lord Emswoth sighing contentedly over his prize pig, the Empress of Blandings; and aunts imposing their will on unsuspecting victims. All of these lead me to think about how quickly plots can change with the arrival of one telegram, phone call, or burglar creeping in the night. The few people who do not look at me like a deranged lunatic when I talk about Wodehouse (actually, there is only one, my fantastic Uncle Joe. The rest of my family is fairly patient with me, although they have been probably worn down by years of coping with my numerous quirks.) often remark on the fantastic plots. For a while, I would agree with them. Life always seems to bounce along, and I never gave a thought to how the plot of a life can change drastically in minutes.
This changed a few weeks ago, when there was a massive rain storm in my neck of the woods and my son’s daycare was flooded. This was followed by the equally horrifying news that the center would be closed for two and a half weeks. Suddenly, I went from a mother who happily deposited her offspring securely in the same place everyday and then dashed off to the city to a Sherpa. You see, the most logical place to send him was a branch of the daycare center that just happens to be located across the street from my office. I went from being a single commuter to having a plus one. The littlest commuter had a grand time as he enjoyed being cooed over by a new cohort of adults. Meanwhile, bags hung off of every available limb. My handbag, the bag for my pumping equipment, my lunch, and a bag of my son’s things, not to mention the occasional appearance of an umbrella . One day, as I was pushing the stroller while my child was chewing on his French giraffe in the midst of a downpour, laden with luggage and the aforementioned umbrella, I thought that Wodehouse would have had a field day with this, except there would need to be a valet or wager involved somewhere.
Good old Plum would have also enjoyed witnessing the events surrounding the planning of my mother’s surprise 60th birthday. This followed a more traditional Wodehouse theme, as the entire thing was spring upon me by my de facto aunt, my mother’s charmingly unhinged best friend. Aunts are major catalysts in Wodehouse stories.* Instead of pinching a silver creamer shaped as a cow, my aunt-inspired mission included a photo shoot with my son and long, involved discussions about whether it was better to arrange the salads before or after we reached the party venue. Like Bertie, I realized that the only way I was going to survive was to say yes to everything, and then ignore the plans which were preposterous, such as her suggestion that we reenact the finale from Chicago for the entertainment section of the evening.
What does this have to do with the inestimable Eggs, Beans and Crumpets? Admittedly, not a whole lot. It is a nice collection of short stories, many of which involve one of my favorite tertiary Wodehouse characters, Bingo Little. He has a nice marriage humming along with an author, Rosie M. Banks, and manages to get himself into numerous scrapes. While reading it, I remarked to myself on how a lot of these plots can be a bit bizarre, until I took a good long look at my life and recognized that it too is replete with elements of the absurd. For every call from Aunt Agatha that has sent shock waves through Bertie‘s life, I have had requests to join committees and, lest I forget, my impending divorce was triggered by a telephone. Life has its own bizarre designs, and it is far better to turn them into plots for a mad-cap story rather than dwelling over their more serious implications.
*It is one of my deepest regrets that it looks as though I shall never be a full-fledged aunt. I am an only child, and am in the process of undoing the union that has made me a step-aunt by marriage to people who are only a couple of years younger. My step-niece has also made me a great step-aunt, but that does not have the same ring to it somehow.
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