P.G. Wodehouse: Something New

Years ago when I was in my teens, P.G. Wodehouse was one my paternal grandmother’s favourite English humorists, and I liked his works as well (incidentally we preferred Blandings Castle to Jeeves). Recently it occurred to me I’ve never read any of his books since my early twenties (nor in fact in the original); I decided to find out whether I’d still like his style after all those years. With the help of Wikipedia and Gutenberg I chose and downloaded Something New (aka Something Fresh) I’d never read before and I wasn’t disappointed. The constant twists and turns of the plot, the humour based more than on what is described on how it is described, the quirky similes were there pretty much the way I remembered from the old days. These are not books to take to a desert island, but they are perfect companions for a long train ride, a dull visit of one’s relatives or a lazy hot summer afternoon.



My life has been such a series of jerks. I dash along—then something happens which stops that bit of my life with a jerk; and then I have to start over again—a new bit. I think I’m getting tired of jerks. I want something stodgy and continuous.
(Joan Valentine)



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