Ok, so I had a suspicion that I would like this book, both Michelle and Emily have raved about this author. Well they were right, I loved it! It is such a lovely, funny, entertaining book I would recommend it to absolutely everyone… This was my first P.G. Wodehouse novel and now I want to read everything he has ever written! His writing style is superb, really, it’s like every word is exactly the right one and every phrase is so elegant…
Bertie Wooster is adorable, I especially enjoyed the way he talks about himself or the Woosters in general, it was endearing and very funny. Apparently he has a habit of getting himself into absurd mix-ups, which make for very enjoyable reading. Bertie’s life is complicated by the people that surround him, like the overzealous police men who kept harassing him due to his ‘unorthodox’ choices of places to sleep. Of course, Jeeves is amazing, so wise and insightful and proper, he is the ultimate problem-solver. With chapter titles like ‘The butter situation’ and ‘Development of the butter situation’ this is truly a hilarious book about rather silly situations that will definitely make you laugh. But it’s not just that it’s funny. There’s a certain ‘englishness’ about Bertie’s and Jeeves’ world that’s comforting and heartwarming. One of the reviews on the cover of my copy mentions that P.G. Wodehouse should be prescribed to treat depression and I couldn’t agree more!
On every other page there were probably half a dozen of phrases that I wanted to write down… Here are a few:
“I was a shade perturbed. Nothing to signify, really, but still just a spot concerned. As I sat in the old flat, idly touching the strings of my banjolele, an instrument to which I had become greatly addicted of late, you couldn’t have said that the brow was actually furrowed, and yet, on the other hand, you couldn’t have stated absolutely that it wasn’t.”
“… Kept calling me ‘Sir’ too, which struck me as dashed silly. I mean, if you’re asking a fellow to come out of a room so that you can dismember him with a carving knife, it’s absurd to tack a ‘Sir’ on to every sentence. The two things don’t go together.”
“You can’t rattle Jeeves. Where scullerymaids had had hysterics and members of the Peerage had leaped and quivered, he simply regarded me with respectful serenity and, after a civil good morning, went on with the job in hand. He is a fellow who likes to do things in their proper order.”
“In this world, Jeeves, you can do one of two things. You can set yourself up as a final authority on whether your fellow man is sane or not, or you can go blacking your face and getting put in potting-sheds. You cannot do both.”