My dear lady, it is one of life’s great mysteries—up there with why socks vanish in the laundry and why aunts are so keen on matchmaking—that you have managed to toddle along this far without encountering the inimitable P.G. Wodehouse, “Plum” to his friends and devotees.
But take heart! The discovery of Wodehouse is like stumbling upon a hidden cache of vintage port in one’s cellar: a joy that comes not a moment too late and promises many evenings of unparalleled cheer. His prose is the very nectar of humor, distilled with such skill that one feels positively effervescent in its presence.
As to your snort-laugh at the mention of fig leaves and strategic locks of hair—well, you’re clearly primed for Wodehouse, where snort-laughing is as inevitable as a Wooster entanglement with the dreaded Madeline Bassett. Waste not another moment—dive in! Life is short and Wodehouse wrote a lot.
Ah, excellent news! You are on the brink of discovering a world where laughter springs eternal, like champagne from a freshly uncorked bottle.
“Sometime” is a fine start, but may I suggest making it sooner rather than later? For once you’ve met the likes of Bertie Wooster and Jeeves, or joined Blandings Castle’s gang of eccentrics, you’ll wonder how you ever managed without them. Happy reading, old bean—you’re in for a treat!
One does not merely read Wodehouse; one is enveloped by him, as by a well-knit scarf on a chilly day with a brisk northerly breeze. His works, like the best of knitting patterns, invite us to labor not in fear but in faith that the end result will be as satisfying as the process itself—a balm to the soul and a testimony to the beauty of creation.
Speaking of knitting, the rolls of yarn, the knocking of needles, so to speak, there is a curious kinship between Wodehouse’s world and the fine art of knitting. Both are pursuits of precision and creativity (much like an idea forming in Jeeves’ brain) requiring the skill to loop one thing seamlessly into another, until a tapestry—be it wool or word—is produced, radiating both charm and utility. As the knitter draws together disparate strands to craft something of lasting value, so Wodehouse weaves plots and characters into a fabric of pure delight.
The Blandings collection. ‘the Empress of Blandings’. The Golf stories are great if you know a golfer. 😂
I have a large Wodehouse collection bit much is audio. Its great to listen to in the car
Why have I never heard of Wodehouse before??? From you or from anyone else? Where has he been all my life?
I’m intensely interested in good writing that makes me laugh! 😁
Speaking of humorous writing, this made me snort-laugh—
“They realize they're...you know, nekkid. Fig leaves, loincloths, strategically placed locks of hair.”😂
My dear lady, it is one of life’s great mysteries—up there with why socks vanish in the laundry and why aunts are so keen on matchmaking—that you have managed to toddle along this far without encountering the inimitable P.G. Wodehouse, “Plum” to his friends and devotees.
But take heart! The discovery of Wodehouse is like stumbling upon a hidden cache of vintage port in one’s cellar: a joy that comes not a moment too late and promises many evenings of unparalleled cheer. His prose is the very nectar of humor, distilled with such skill that one feels positively effervescent in its presence.
As to your snort-laugh at the mention of fig leaves and strategic locks of hair—well, you’re clearly primed for Wodehouse, where snort-laughing is as inevitable as a Wooster entanglement with the dreaded Madeline Bassett. Waste not another moment—dive in! Life is short and Wodehouse wrote a lot.
👏🏻😁 Sold! Wodehouse now tops my Christmas list.
Wodehouse? I like to laugh. I’ll check that out sometime. Appreciate your insights.
Thanks Cherie! Let me know what you think. My fave so far is Heavy Weather. 😁
Ah, excellent news! You are on the brink of discovering a world where laughter springs eternal, like champagne from a freshly uncorked bottle.
“Sometime” is a fine start, but may I suggest making it sooner rather than later? For once you’ve met the likes of Bertie Wooster and Jeeves, or joined Blandings Castle’s gang of eccentrics, you’ll wonder how you ever managed without them. Happy reading, old bean—you’re in for a treat!
One does not merely read Wodehouse; one is enveloped by him, as by a well-knit scarf on a chilly day with a brisk northerly breeze. His works, like the best of knitting patterns, invite us to labor not in fear but in faith that the end result will be as satisfying as the process itself—a balm to the soul and a testimony to the beauty of creation.
Speaking of knitting, the rolls of yarn, the knocking of needles, so to speak, there is a curious kinship between Wodehouse’s world and the fine art of knitting. Both are pursuits of precision and creativity (much like an idea forming in Jeeves’ brain) requiring the skill to loop one thing seamlessly into another, until a tapestry—be it wool or word—is produced, radiating both charm and utility. As the knitter draws together disparate strands to craft something of lasting value, so Wodehouse weaves plots and characters into a fabric of pure delight.
I was so captivated by the colors of yarn in your knitting, that I didn't hear a word that you said. Except Wodehouse. Off to check him out.
Ha 😂👏🏻