Aunts aren’t Gentlemen by P. G. Wodehouse

And so, I finished Aunts aren’t Gentlemen, the last of the Jeeves and Wooster novels. Once again, I found myself in the perfect, sunlit world of P. G. Wodehouse and enjoyed a heavy dose of Englishness and Bertie Wooster’s philosophy.

I’ll never get tired of saying this: no matter how sad/grumpy/lonely I’m feeling these novels never fail to life my spirits. I suspect it has something to do with the beautiful, elegant writing and the funny stories where nothing really bad ever happens, and even if it does, Jeeves sorts it out in the end.

It’s a bit upsetting that I have no more Jeeves and Wooster novels to read, I’ve been reading one every few months for the past couple of years. Thankfully, I have three collections of short stories featuring the adventures of my soulmate and his gentleman’s gentleman. Plus, I suspect that the books will still be enjoyable as re-reads for when I want a Wooster fix. (I’ve been thinking that in the second time around I won’t be lazy and I will actually write down all the sage words of Bertie Wooster (the man’s wisdom knows no limits) to form a -slightly- silly guide to life.) Not to mention the dvds of the tv series with Fry & Laurie, a beloved birthday present from The Boy last year.

I think I’ll include the first volume of short stories, The Inimitable Jeeves, in my Readathon list. I can’t think of a book better suited to keeping me awake and in a good mood in the wee hours. (A bit of a tangent here, but have you signed up yet? If not, I suggest that you do so immediately, it’s really fun!) And I know P. G. Wodehouse wrote lots and lots of other novels, do you have any favourites to recommend?

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