We are all governed by madmen

Among other things, Summer Lightning features the return of Lord Emsworth’s former secretary to the castle.  The efficient Baxter is probably one of the more sane individuals ever to inhabit Blandings Castle.  During his tenure, correspondences were dispatched in a timely manner and document signed, with the result that Lord Emsworth spent far too little time with his beloved prize-winning pig, the Empress of Blandings.  It is probably because of his even-tempered approach to Lord Emsworth’s business affairs that he is the only one to be out rightly accused of insanity.  His dismissal followed an episode when he was caught throwing flower pots at his employer’s window in the dead of night.  Unfortunately for Baxter, his activities following his return follow in a similar vein. 

The world of Wodehouse is ruled by those who might be called slightly unhinged.  Although stern types such as lord Emsworth’s sister of Bertie Wooster’s Aunt Agatha try to impose reason on their nearest and dearest, the truth is that they often fail in this quest.  While this might seem to be a comic inversion of the “real world,” the longer that I reside on this planet, the more I am convinced that it is only a slight exaggeration of our reality.  Spode might seem to be an amusing figure with his interest in lingerie, but were he to annex the Crimea, we might be singing a different tune.

While I was reading, I felt torn.  I was rooting, as always, for Baxter’s downfall.  At the same time, I had to admit to myself that, of all of Wodehouse’s characters, he might be the one who comes closest to me in personality.  It made me wonder if the same could be said of a number of people.  There are very few real life risk-takers in this world.  Most of us prefer to keep our heads down and get on with things.  According to Wodehouse, this approach to life results in ridicule and being kept from what one truly wants.  Better to be considered slightly eccentric than to be doomed to a life of efficient mediocrity.  After all, upright behavior can get you kicked out of the castle.

An Early Twentieth Century Version of The Daily Show

Something tells me that Overlook is nearing the end of its project to publish the entire Wodehouse oeuvre.  The press’s latest offering is, in reality, two versions of the same piece.  The first, published in 1909, is the account of an invasion of Britain by numerous foreign powers who are thwarted by the Boy Scouts.  Less a book and more a novella, I zipped through it in record time, assisted by the fact that the text was punctuated by a number of illustrations (deeply unusual for modern printings of The Master).

The second version was the account of an invasion of America by numerous foreign powers that is thwarted by, you guessed it, the Boy Scouts.  This version, which is more a long short story, was published in 1915.  The date made me pause.  Of course, the significance of the date did not escape me.  World War I proper was raging, but the US had yet to make its appearance.  This work is yet another piece of evidence against the argument that Wodehouse was not politically aware.  The US (as Britain was in the earlier work) was mocked in this story for its lassiez-faire attitude as its shores were being breached by the Germans and Japanese.  That the security of an entire nation rode on the small shoulders of Boy Scouts, albeit a group led by a rather formidable one in the shape of Clarence Chugwater, is high satire indeed.  Jon Stewart, eat your heart out.

I must admit that I didn’t quite know exactly what Wodehouse was satirizing in the earlier piece.  Obviously, Archduke Ferdinand was still alive and kicking at that point.  Perhaps there was a general sense that the British were becoming lax in their enforcement of law and order in the Empire.  Maybe the government was taking a more relaxed stance towards the nation’s defense.  Whatever the cause, there is a feeling that Wodehouse could sense that Something was afoot that would be of global significance, and chose to write about it, not just once, but twice.*

*There are other instances of Wodehouse recycling plots, although this was one of the first instances of Overlook putting them in the same volume.

French Leave ~or~ The Pursuit of Money

March’s Wodehouse selection is probably best described as a delightful European romp.  American women are drawn to France, shenanigans ensue, and there is a very happy romantic ending.  Given the plot elements of disguised identities and convoluted marriage schemes, one could almost imagine that Shakespeare could have concocted this one, that is, if he had been alive and well in the 20^th century.

Where the book swerves off its Shakespearean path is its catalyst.  The plot is propelled not by a horrific storm or by the naked desire for power, but by money.  Our heroines are able to travel only thanks to a windfall.  The male romantic lead arrives at the French resort that serves as the book’s setting not on a holiday, but rather to pursue a publishing contract.  His father is also trying to better his lot.  An impoverished French aristocrat, he is seeking an investor for his latest in a series of get-rich-quick schemes.  Even the wealthy American female antagonist is trying to improve her stock portfolio by arranging a union between the heirs of two water companies.

It is difficult to know what to make of all of this financial anxiety.  Certainly, this is not the only Wodehouse text that has the pursuit of filthy lucre as a primary motivation.  Even in Shakespeare’s work, it is possible to argue that the happiest of marriages that are produced at the finale involve an element of financial improvement.  Perhaps this forthright Wodehousian preoccupation with money is a reflection of his time.  After all, he lived through two World Wars and a major economic depression.  The subject also had a personal element, as he eschewed the land of his birth for a residence in the US mostly to avoid the UK’s income tax.  Money and love are both very personal elements for Plum, so perhaps it is not so odd to see them intertwined frequently in his works.

Writers on Writers

The last book of the Psmith chronicles put us in familiar territory, namely, Blandings Castle.  Crossovers like this happen every now and again in the Wodehouse universe, and it is something that I tend to enjoy.  The feeling is akin to slipping into comfortable clothes after a long and particularly trying day. 

The main action is featured around authors, both real and imposter.  In this case, both types are poets, one male and the other female.  Going by his portrayal of them, Wodehouse does not seem to have much time for the discipline.  The female poet’s oeuvre is of the twee and sentimental variety.  Wodehouse’s scorn is palpable, even more so when it is revealed that she has quite a lucrative career from it.  Perhaps not coincidentally, she is also a master con-artist, so take that as you will.  The implications are scathing, and make me wonder if Wodehouse had an enforced diet of treacle-laden verse shoved down his throat when he was in school.

The other author is a male poet who pens verse that no one seems to comprehend.  He is impersonated by Psmith, who attempts to present the man as a more relatable fellow than he verses would suggest.  Many comments are made about how he is not what people were expecting.  It is likely that the comment was made to heighten the comic effect of the impersonation, but I start to wonder if Wodehouse was plagued by poets whom he found to be tedious.  After all, he would continue the trope of a schoompy poetess in Madeline Bassett, whose signature damming phrase is that she refers to stars as, “Nature’s daisy chain.”

The one author that Wodehouse seems to respect if Rosie M. Banks, who does not appear in this novel.  She specializes in women’s literature (probably early 20^th century chick lit), but her character is sensible enough to earn admiration.  Ms. Banks is not the sort to lapse into mooning text, and I sense that Wodehouse saw a lot of himself- or another author that he admired- in her no nonsense approach to giving people what they want.  It also helps that she is not hurting for cash and is one of a long line of Wodehouse female characters who is the economic powerhouse of the couple, but that falls into the list of things that need to be addressed at another time.

Shocking the Dead

I spent the second half of my 2013 reading life immersed in the worlds of Wodehouse and Game of Thrones.  It was a strange juxtaposition.  On the one hand, Wodehouse presents an idealized world where fortune and personal happiness might be in the balance, but never one’s life.  I have yet to meet a body count in Plum’s oeuvre.  On the other hand, we have Westeros.  The body count there has surpassed mere calculations and just about everyone is too occupied in a life-or-death struggle to pause and consider if they are happy with their situation.  Even when the characters indulge in a tea, these occasions are generally laced with intrigue and political malice.

One thing that Wodehouse and Martin are both able to do is provide the reader with engaging stories and characters.  Both can plot a twist in a story like no one’s business.  Admittedly, Martin takes his twists to the extremes with beheadings and whatnot, but it is important to acknowledge that both authors have the ability to surprise the reader.  Interrupting the reader’s expectations goes a long way in my definition of a successful book.  It is good to have your worldview refreshed every now and again, and much less devastating if it can happen within the confines of two covers.

The best part about catching up with my husband in the Song of Ice and Fire is that he is no longer at the point of implosions when we discuss plot developments.  I also miss some of the characters and I keep hoping for some sort of an update on how they’re getting on.  Conversely, it be a long time before I run out of books that keep me abreast on the doings of Bertie and his lot, although when it happens, I know that will be the final word (although goodness knows when Martin will get around to publishing his fifth book).*  Although I’ll miss them for now, one nice thing about waiting for Book Six is that I am now free to read other things.  For now, this means that I am able to indulge my taste for non-fiction and leaving the shocking turns to Plum.  Unless Bertie Wooster becomes a paid assassin, I think that my literary shocks for the future will be of the tame variety.

*As the reader might have surmised, I persist in my refusal to acknowledge any book involving a Wodehouse character not written by Plum to be canon.