'Morning, Jeeves,' I said.
  'Good morning, sir,' said Jeeves.
  He put the good old cup of tea softly on the table by my bed, and I took a refreshing sip. Just right, as usual. Not too hot, not too sweet, not too weak, not too strong, not too much milk, and not a drop spilled in the saucer. A most amazing cove, Jeeves. So dashed competent in every respect. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I mean to say, just take one small instance. Every other valet I've ever had used to barge into my room in the morning while I was still

Jeeves and Wooster, as portrayed by Stephen Fry (right) and Hugh Laurie (left)
asleep, causing much misery; but Jeeves seems to know when I'm awake by a sort of telepathy. He always floats in with the cup exactly two minutes after I come to life. Makes a deuce of a lot of difference to a fellow's day.

It's just about impossible to strike the right note when trying to introduce the works of P.G. Wodehouse to a new and enthusiastic audience. You go for the light-hearted approach, but it ends up sounding even more strained and uncomfortable than your serious writing; but to employ the tones of a hardened scholar would be completely unsuitable - you are, after all, going to be writing about the greatest humourist of 20th Century Literature. No, the safest bet is to begin with a quote. Begin with a quote, and hope that your audience find themselves either rolling around on the floor in convulsions of Wodehousean laughter, or sufficiently touched by the morning musings of the untroubled (until his meddling Aunt Agatha appears on the scene) Bertie Wooster, to keep their interest ticking over until the next quote comes along.

  I never know, when I'm telling a story, whether to cut the thing down to plain facts or whether to drool on and shove in a lot of atmosphere, and all that. I mean, many a cove would no doubt edge into the final spasm of this narrative with a long description of Goodwood, featuring the blue sky, the rolling prospect, the joyous crowds of pickpockets, and the parties of the second part who were having their pockets picked, and - in a word, what not. But better give it a miss, I think.

It's brilliant, really. To look at a page of Wodehouse from afar, everything looks to be in perfect order: there aren't any ridiclously 'funny' pictures or blank spaces on the page, to make you suspect that everything might not be quite as it seems; but a closer inspection - as with all things worth spending time on - reveals the bounteous delights that Wodehouse has poured into his stories of Jeeves and Wooster. But along with the laughs, there is plenty of pathos in the stories. Periods of reflection, that we can all benefit from, and of course Jeeves is a role-model for us all. The ever-respectful helper when his employer finds himself in a spot of trouble, always in possesion of the perfect solution to every problem, he, the so-called slave to the idle yet loveable Bertie Wooster, is the pinnacle of society, to whom we must all aspire.

Well, I mean to say, what? Absolutely!


Word of the Week

Comedy

comedy n. 1 a a play, film, etc., of an amusing or satirical character, usu. with a happy ending. b the dramatic genre consisting of works of this kind (she excels in comedy. 2 an amusing or farcical incident or series of incidents in everyday life. 3 humour, esp. in a work of art etc.

Definition courtesy of the Concise Oxford Dictionary

No mention of Literature (apart from that side-reference to art, of course - which I'm sure they only subscribe to the painted sort, as opposed to the written)? What's the matter with the people who compiled the Concise Oxford Dictionary? Have they never read P.G. Wodehouse's stories of Jeeves and Wooster?

'Great Scott, Jeeves!'
'Yes, sir.'