The nice thing about taking a chronological approach to this
last leg of my Reading Wodehouse challenge is that I am finishing up with some
strong examples of a master still in possession of his talents. I don’t believe that Overlook published the
books in order by publication year, although they very sweetly held off on
publishing Sunset at Blandings, the unfinished book that awaits me in April, to
the very end. Who knows why. Certainly I know very little about the
publishing world.** Perhaps it was a
rights issues, occupying a team of copyright lawyers for months on end. Perhaps someone just wanted to get his or her
favorite ones out first, and then felt a twinge of remorse looking at the
other, neglected titles. Perhaps they
were led by the data analytics that seems to lead a great many people these
days, to varying effects.*** Who knows,
the publication order might have just as easily been determined by throwing a
dart at a list.
The book is a masterclass in plotting and the result is so skillful
that I deeply wish I had a Galahad Threepwood in my life. There really is not much else that I can say
about this book except that if one is in need of a mental diversion, and after
the past few months I think this applies to anyone, regardless of what side of
the political divide you fall on, this is just the ticket. It seems that when Wodehouse himself was in
need of a diversion when he wrote the book.
It was published in 1964 and refers to the 1929 stock market crash as if
it was a recent event. It’s not often
that we get such an exact historical marker for a book, and indeed, I have seen
some of the later titles adapt to modern times by having the leads be
stewardesses instead of private secretaries.
This makes me wonder if Plum needed an out as well. Modern life, even fifty years ago, can be too
much.
*Read January 2017
**The little I do know of it is via an old friend of mine
who is a literary agent. The life is not
as glamorous as one might think. Her old
office was plagued by a race of super mice who took no notice of the
mind-scrambling sonic traps that were scattered around the place. She also works all the hours God sends and
has told me stories of deeply uncivilized behavior. Never mind the fact that everyone is running
about gleefully proclaiming that print is dead.
It’s enough to make one consider establishing a Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty for the Literary Field.
***Off-topic maybe, but this calls to mind the recent reboot
by Netflix of the Gilmore Girls series.
The stories chronicling the decision to commission these episodes stated
that the executives were impressed by how many people were still watching it on
the service. They then took the Give the
People What They Want approach (often a mistake and possibly an explanation for
the deluge of superhero movies drowning our local multiplexes). My suspicion is that it paid off dividends
for the company, although I was annoyed by a great deal of the story. Sometimes, just because you can do something
does not mean that it will be executed wonderfully, and I believe that the
creative duo responsible for the show ultimately did their creation a
disservice. Artistic vision often needs
to be tempered; just look at what the sonnet format did with Shakespeare’s brilliance. I do hope that the producers of Will and
Grace are listening somewhere, because I have Grave Concerns about that
endeavor, which was nicely wrapped up years ago.
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