Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘What ho!’ Category

Given an opportunity, would you hire Jeeves? Many of us would jump at the prospect. With a super human intelligence by our side, life could be so very smooth. But some of us may brood. We might resent our being taken for granted. Our fiercely independent soul may revolt at the prospect of submitting to his superior intelligence.

Which school of thought do you belong to?

Here is yet another juicy post from Plumtopia which examines this question in-depth. As always, it endeavours to – and does – provide satisfaction!

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

Meet Jeeves, the world’s most famous valet and P.G. Wodehouse’s best known character. The name Jeeves has come to symbolise the epitome of efficient service to millions who’ve never even read Wodehouse. Among fans, he is spoken of with a reverence usually reserved for deities. And how many of us have wished for a Jeeves in our lives? But is this rosy view of Jeeves’ as Bertie Wooster’s domestic saviour justified, when so often it is Jeeves who contrives the situations from which Bertie must be rescued? Nor is his support lacking in self-interest. In Wodehouse’s idyllic world, is Jeeves more serpent than servant?

The story of Jeeves’ introduction to the Wooster home is told in ‘Jeeves Takes Charge’ (Carry On Jeeves). Jeeves enters Bertie’s employment after Bertie’s previous man, Meadowes, is caught pinching his socks.

I was reluctantly compelled to hand the misguided blighter the mitten and…

View original post 745 more words

Read Full Post »

Often, on Facebook, some fans raise a question as to who the most lovable character is; or, which is the best work of P G Wodehouse. Futile, I say. Pointless, I state. Because when it comes to making any comparisons in Plumsville, the mind boggles. Each character has a couple of traits we can readily identify with. Each narrative has a situation which we can relate to. We just need to roam around in Plumsville’s valleys lit with sunny humour and quietly lend an ear to the rivulets of gentle mirth murmuring past us.

Here is one of the several exceptional posts from Plumtopia which demonstrates (if that is the word I want) this simple fact of life.

Enjoy.

Pip pip!

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

Wodehouse, as a nonagenarian

Henry glanced hastily at the mirror. Yes, he did look rather old. He must have overdone some of the lines on his forehead. He looked something between a youngish centenarian and a nonagenarian who had seen a good deal of trouble.

The Man with Two Left Feet (1917)

I feel much like Henry did, as I glance in the mirror to inspect the remains of my former self on the eve of what I’ll just call a ‘significant’ birthday.  But I shall resist the urge to impersonate the great Russian novelists, and reflect instead upon some of my favourite Wodehouse moments. I have selected five favourite novels to share, representing one for each completed decade, and one for the future. I do hope you will indulge me.

My first selection is a school story, published in magazine (The Captain) and book format under various…

View original post 1,313 more words

Read Full Post »

In the post-matrimony phase, we find Bingo Little to be a devoted husband. Maintaining matrimonial peace and harmony is the sole purpose of his life. When it comes to keeping his lady-love happy and contented, there is little that he leaves to chance.

If a childhood friend has to be persuaded to soften up an uncle, he does it. If having the same friend being held to be a VeryGoodJeeveslooney helps him to make the dove of peace flap its sonorous wings over his abode, he does not hesitate.

If a cook of the stature of Anatole has to be sacrificed to ensure that his social reputation does not nosedive, so be it.

In Jeeves and the Impending Doom (Very Good, Jeeves), we find him struggling hard to earn his subsistence by tutoring a despicable kid like Thos. He has to ensure that he is not discovered to be a pal of Bertie. He has to also ensure that the kid’s misdemeanours do not get reported to his mother.

Bingo shares his predicament

When Bertie runs into Bingo at Woollam Chersey, he is exhorted to behave like a perfect stranger.

The letter ‘was to tell you that I was down here tutoring your Cousin Thomas, and that it was essential that, when we met, you should treat me as a perfect stranger.’

‘But why?’

Bingo raised his eyebrows.

‘Why? Be reasonable, Bertie. If you were your aunt, and you knew the sort of chap you were, would you let a fellow you knew to be your best pal tutor your son?’

Eventually, the mystery unfolds thus.

‘I will also now reveal why I am staying in this pest-house, tutoring a kid who requires not education in the Greek and Latin languages but a swift slosh on the base of the skull with a black-jack. I came here, Bertie, because it was the only thing I could do. At the last moment before she sailed to America, Rosie decided that I had better stay behind and look after the Peke. She left me a couple of hundred quid to see me through till her return. This sum, judiciously expended over the period of her absence, would have been enough to keep Peke and self in moderate affluence. But you know how it is.’

Odd women and an angry swan

What poor Bingo regarded as a cautious and conservative investment camecupid unstuck. The horse in question came in last, making him blow up the entire allowance in a single go. He has had to find the means of keeping his body and soul together till Rosie’s return, so she does not discover what has occurred.

‘Rosie is the dearest girl in the world; but if you were a married man, Bertie, you would be aware that the best of wives are apt to cut up rough if she finds that her husband has dropped six weeks’ housekeeping money on a single race. Isn’t that so, Jeeves?’

‘Yes, sir. Women are odd in that respect.’

Eventually, Mr Filmer, the Cabinet Minister, faces retribution for having reported Thos smoking in the shrubbery. On a rainy day, he is made to get stranded on an island, facing a swan which has taken serious offence at its family having been disturbed.

Even after he has been rescued, Mr Filmer keeps wondering if Thos was the one who had set his boat adrift. Jeeves manages to shift the burden of this misdemeanour on to Bertie. This saves Bertie from being considered for the position of Mr Filmer’s private secretary, an unagreeable prospect. However, he has to slide down a pipe to avoid an unpleasant confrontation with Aunt Agatha.

Little Bingo ends up retaining his tutoring assignment, thereby securing matrimonial peace. To him, sacrificing a bosom pal’s social reputation for the sake of having peace at home is a worthy trade-off in life.

A rare beauty in Bertie’s nature

Some of us could wonder as to why Bertie keeps helping Little Bingo from time1923 The Inimitable Jeeves mycopy to time. All of us know that he is an ardent follower of The Code of the Woosters. The extent to which he goes out of his way to help his pals, sublimating his own ego, is truly amazing. This is a point which he himself attempts to clarify in yet another narrative, entitled Comrade Bingo (The Inimitable Jeeves):

‘I don’t know why, ever since I first knew him at school, I should have felt a rummy feeling of responsibility for young Bingo. I mean to say, he’s not my son (thank goodness) or my brother or anything like that. He’s got absolutely no claim on me at all, and yet a large-sized chunk of my existence seems to be spent in fussing over him like a bally old hen and hauling him out of the soup. I suppose it must be some rare beauty in my nature or something.’

Friends like Bertie Wooster certainly make our lives sweeter and simpler!

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/01/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-1-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/04/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-2-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/04/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-4-of-4)

Read Full Post »

When it comes to attaining a state of matrimonial bliss, hapless husbands have to resort to tactics of all kinds. TheirVeryGoodJeeves misdemeanours should not come to the notice of the better half. The satiation of their gastric juices has to be accorded a lower priority. The social reputation of their bosom pals has to be sacrificed at the altar of marital peace.

‘Jeeves and the Old School Chum’ (Very Good, Jeeves) is a short story where Bingo Little’s food habits come in for harsh criticism at the hands of Laura Pyke, an old school mate of Rosie M. Banks. Bertie fears that continuous feedback of this nature could result into marital relations between the couple turning sour. However, a missed lunch basket, and a sorely missed afternoon cup of tea, lead to a bitter argument between the school chums. Laura Pyke walks out of their lives. Matrimonial peace continues to reign.

This is how the narrative unfolds.

When two hearts beat like one

‘Oh, sweetie-lambkin, isn’t that lovely?’

‘What?’

‘Laura Pyke wants to come here.’

‘Who?’

‘You must have heard me speak of Laura Pyke. She was my dearest friend at school. I simply worshipped her. She always had such a wonderful mind. She wants us to put her up for a week or two.’

‘Right-ho. Bung her in.’

‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. Any pal of yours…’

‘Darling!’ said Mrs Bingo, blowing him a kiss.

‘Angel!’ said Bingo, going on with the sausages.

All very charming, in fact. Pleasant domestic scene, I mean. Cheery give-and-take in the home and all that. I said as much to Jeeves as we drove off.

‘In these days of unrest, Jeeves,’ I said, ‘with wives yearning to fulfill themselves and husbands slipping round the corner to do what they shouldn’t, and the home, generally speaking, in the melting pot, as it were, it is nice to find a thoroughly united couple.’

‘Decidedly agreeable, sir.’

‘I allude to the Bingos – Mr and Mrs.’

‘Exactly, sir.’

‘What was it the poet said of couples like the Bingeese?’

‘“Two minds but with a single thought, two hearts that beat as one”, sir.’

‘A dashed good description, Jeeves.’

‘It has, I believe, given uniform satisfaction, sir.’

An innate tendency to reform husbands

Rosie is absolutely potty about Laura Pyke who holds strict views on what should be eaten and how. The cuisine of the house gets shot to pieces. Cocktails get banned, because they corrode the stomach tissues.

‘Are wives often like that? Welcoming criticism of the lord and master, I mean?’

‘They are generally open to suggestion from the outside public with regard to the improvement of their husbands, sir.’

Bertie is worried for his pal, who is under relentless criticism for his dietary habits. Bingo is being projected to his wife as a sort of human boa-constrictor. Under such circumstances, love could wither.

‘You see, what makes matters worse is that Mrs Bingo is romantic. Women like her, who consider the day ill spent if they have not churned out five thousand words of superfatted fiction, are apt even at the best of times to yearn a trifle. The ink gets into their heads. I mean to say, I shouldn’t wonder if right from the start Mrs Bingo hasn’t had a sort of sneaking regret that Bingo isn’t one of those strong, curt, Empire-building kind of Englishmen she puts into her books, with sad, unfathomable eyes, lean sensitive hands, and riding boots. You see what I mean?’

‘Precisely, sir. You imply that Miss Pyke’s criticisms will have been instrumental in moving the hitherto unformulated dissatisfaction from the subconscious to the conscious mind.’

‘Once again, Jeeves?’ I said, trying to grab it as it came off the bat, but missing it by several yards.

The perils of a missed cup of afternoon tea

At the Lakenham races, Jeeves connives to miss the carefully piled up lunch basket. Bertie is of the opinion that Bertie imagemissing the afternoon tea could instead provide the requisite ammunition.

‘I fear you have not studied the sex as I have. Missing her lunch means little or nothing to the female of the species. The feminine attitude towards lunch is notoriously airy and casual. Where you have made your bloomer is in confusing lunch with tea. Hell, it is well-known, has no fury like a woman who wants her tea and can’t get it. At such times the most amiable of the sex become mere bombs which a spark may ignite.’

Jeeves manages to drain out petrol from one of the cars. The result is that both the school chums get stuck in a deserted spot, with only a small house visible in the distance.

Fissures soon appear in their relationship, and a fight ensues. Laura Pyke decides to part company, whereupon Bingo blackmails the baby-sitting house occupant into offering some tea to Rosie.

Romance is back on its throne

‘Well, you jolly well aren’t going to,’ said young Bingo. ‘Unless you go straight to the kitchen, put the kettle on, and start slicing bread for the buttered toast, I’ll yell and wake the baby.’

The Bandit turned ashen.

‘You wouldn’t do that?’

‘I would.’

‘Have you no heart?’

‘No.’

‘No human feeling?’

‘No.’

The Bandit turned to Mrs Bingo. You could see his spirit was broken.

‘Do your shoes squeak?’ he asked humbly.

‘No.’

‘Then come on in.’

Thank you,’ said Mrs Bingo.

She turned for an instant to Bingo, and there was a look in her eyes that one of those damsels in distress might have given the knight as he shot his cuffs and turned away from the dead dragon. It was a look of adoration, of almost reverent respect. Just the sort of look, in fact, that a husband likes to see.

‘Darling!’ she said.

‘Darling!’ said Bingo.

‘Angel!’ said Mrs Bingo.

‘Precious!’ said Bingo.

In place of a tankard of ale, hot Scotch-and-water is planned to be served at home that evening. Unalloyed marital bliss prevails.

To sum up, when it comes to ensuring peace at home, Bingo does not believe in flexing his muscles. He does not assert himself. Instead, he makes great sacrifices. He makes full use of Bertie’s milk of human kindness. He requisitions the services of Jeeves, the stout fellow who is full of fat-soluble vitamins.

Perhaps all husbands, whether permanent members of the Self-harassed Husbands’ Association or otherwise, have a chivalrous Bingo Little squirming within themselves. What they lack is a bosom pal like Bertie and a marvel like Jeeves to help them out in times of marital friction.

A Bertie-Jeeves Heart Reuniting Service?

When it comes to bringing soul mates together, Bertie and Jeeves have an impeccable record. The Mating Season PGW HughLaurie-BertieWoosteritself is a clear demonstration of their prowess in uniting as many as half a dozen pairs of hearts. Trials and tribulations of Bingo Little establish their credentials for married couples as well.

You might tend to agree that if ever they decide to start a Heart Reuniting Service specializing in bringing and keeping sundered hearts together, society would stand to gain. Wedding planners, caterers and trousseau marketers would continue to prosper. Divorce rates would plummet. Judges assigned to family courts would breathe easy. Children would be happier.

Perhaps the only ones to complain would be the lawyers specializing in divorce and settlement cases; they might be found crying all the way to their respective banks.

Bingo Little’s Tips Summarized

1. Reputation of devoted friends is a small price to pay for the dove of peace and harmony continuing to flap its sonorous wings over your abode.

2.  Protect your social reputation with mercenary zeal. Be prepared to make supreme sacrifices, as and when necessary. A spirit of renunciation helps.

3.  When the spouse plans to go to the press with some intimate details, take prompt steps through proper channels and nip all such endeavours in the bud.

4.  Do not blow up six-week’s sustenance allowance on a race horse with unproven credentials.

5.  If the sporting spirit to make speculative gains is too strong, ensure that the allowance for the same is suitably camouflaged and covered in the regular sustenance allowance.

6. Discourage the better half’s school chums from coming over. If unavoidable, subject their dietary preferences to a pitiless analysis. At the earliest possible opportunity, facilitate a rift between the centre of your universe and her school chum.

7. Ensure that she gets her favourite tissue restorative at the appointed hour. Behave like a knight in shining armour when dealing with baby-sitting bandits who stand in her way.

Do this (and much more) and the dove of peace shall continue to flap its wings over your abode!

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/01/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-1-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/04/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-2-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/07/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-3-of-4)

Read Full Post »

In ensuring a state of peace and harmony at home, Bingo demonstrates himself to be a man of chilled steel. In order to be able to protect his social prestige, he even agrees to dispense with the services of God’s gift to our gastric juices – Anatole. For a foodie like him, who, upon noticing a glorious sunset, would be apt to say that it reminded him of a slice of roast beef, cooked just right, this is indeed an instance of supreme sacrifice.

The perils of marrying an author

In ‘Clustering Round Young Bingo’ (Carry On, Jeeves), Rosie M. Banks gets commissioned by Aunt Dahlia to PGW CarryOnJeeveswrite an article for Milady’s Boudoir. Bingo is understandably all of a twitter, because the article, entitled “How I Keep the Love of My Husband-Baby”, has some juicy comments concerning him. If made public, Bingo’s reputation would surely go for a toss.

This is how he shares his predicament with Bertie.

‘…..you have about as much imagination as a warthog, but surely even you can picture to yourself what Jimmy Bowles and Tuppy Rogers, to name only two, will say when they see me referred to in print as “half god, half prattling, mischievous child”?’

‘She doesn’t say that?’ I gasped.

‘She certainly does. And when I tell you that I selected that particular quotation because it’s about the only one I can stand hearing spoken, you will realize what I’m up against.’

Much to the credit of the housewife in Mrs Bingo, she has managed to dig up a Frenchman of the most extraordinary vim and skill. Since this amazing cook, popularly known to all of us as Anatole, has arrived at their home, Old Bingo is said to have picked up at least ten pounds in weight.

However, where she makes her bloomer is in inviting Uncle Tom and Aunt Dahlia over for dinner. A combination of consommé pate d’Italie, paupiettes de sole a la princesse and caneton Aylesbury a la broche ends up reviving Uncle Tom like a watered flower.

A rudimentary sense of morality

Jeeves is commissioned by Aunt Dahlia to somehow persuade Anatole to join her. Bingo is aghast to hear this.

‘What! Is that – that buzzard trying to pinch our cook?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘After eating our bread and salt, dammit?’

‘I fear, sir,’ sighed Jeeves, ‘that when it comes to a matter of cooks, ladies have but a rudimentary sense of morality.’

Jeeves manages to pull off this feat. A breach of cordial relations between the two ladies ensues. Mrs Little declines to contribute the ghastly article for Aunt Dahlia’s rag. Matrimonial peace prevails.

Jeeves even manages to get Mrs Little a proficient housemaid. He also persuades Bertie to be away from the scene of action, since the latter fails in pinching the cylinder of the recording machine containing the article from Bingo’s house. Bertie proceeds to spend some time with Uncle George who is desperate to have some company while at Harrogate.

To go into sordid figures, a gratified Old Bingo Little gifts twenty pounds to Jeeves. Aunt Dahlia, at twenty-five pounds, turns out to be the most generous. Mrs Little pitches in with ten pounds for finding her a satisfactory housemaid. Uncle Thomas matches the generosity of Aunt Dahlia. Uncle George hands over a cheque of ten pounds. When told about the appreciable increase in his savings, even Bertie hands over a fiver to Jeeves!

A deep sense of renunciation

The risk in marrying an author is that one has to be ceaselessly vigilant about the kind of ripe or unripe stuff the spouse is being expected to churn out. In case intimate and unsavoury details are likely to get publicized, prompt steps have to be taken through proper channels to nip the same in the bud. Great sacrifices are called for. Nerves of chilled steel need to be developed.

When there is a choice to be made between public disgrace of some kind and God’s gifts to one’s gastric juices, the latter have to be given up with a feeling of utmost detachment. Willingly parting company with someone of the stature of Anatole is a supreme sacrifice which deserves to be heartily applauded.

Matrimonial peace does not come cheap; often, one has to cultivate a deep sense of renunciation. Old Bingo’s married life is a shining example of this kind. Not for him a confrontation with the better half. Not for him a cold disapproving look at the love of one’s life. No lodging a protest. No wavering in the deep appreciation of the qualities of a soul mate. Sheer resignation to fate. A meek surrender to the superior intelligence of Jeeves. A spirit of renunciation.

(Related Posts: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/01/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-1-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/07/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-3-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/04/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-4-of-4)

Read Full Post »

Present tense, future perfect

Many of us, the residents of Plumsville, are familiar with eligible bachelors and spinsters who dot its magnificent landscape. Their attempts at attracting each other, as well as their romantic rifts, keep us glued to many a narrative. Incurable optimists that we are, we believe that once they have tied the knot, they would live happily ever after. Their present may be tense, but their future would surely be perfect.

But life has this innate tendency to keep them baffled. The harsh slings and arrows of Fate continue to torment them with equal ferocity even after they have sauntered down the aisle with their soul mates and we, the gullible readers, have mistakenly decided to breathe easy.

To PG Wodehouse’s credit, he etches out the struggles of married couples with as much aplomb as he does those of bachelors and spinsters in his narratives.

The curious case of Bingo Little: Pre-nuptials

Take the case of Bingo Little. We know that he is a diehard romantic, perennially in love with some dashing female or Wodehouse charactersthe other. Even when at school, he is reported to have had the finest collection of actresses’ photographs; at Oxford, his romantic nature was a byword. He is inclined to fall in love at first sight on a regular basis and become highly emotional about his affections.

Residents of Plumsville are aware that objects of his affection have included a waitress named Mabel; Honoria Glossop, the formidable daughter of Pop Glossop; Daphne Braythwayt, a friend of Honoria; Charlotte Corday Rowbotham, a revolutionary; Lady Cynthia Wickhammersley, a family friend of Bertie’s; and Mary Burgess, niece of the Rev. Francis Heppenstall. After each failed affair, Bingo does not necessarily sulk. The scales fall from his eyes, and he suddenly realizes that the next girl alone is his true soul mate.

After many failed affairs, Bingo ends up marrying the romance novelist Rosie M. Banks, an author whose outlook on life happens to match well with that of his.

The not-so-curious case of Bingo Little: Post-nuptials

However, in the post-matrimony phase, we find a Bingo Little who is completely transformed. He is singularly devoted to his wife. Maintaining matrimonial peace and harmony is the sole purpose of his life. When it comes to keeping his lady-love happy and contented, there is little that he leaves to chance.

If a childhood friend has to be persuaded to soften up an uncle, he does it. If having the same friend being held to be a looney helps him to make the dove of peace flap its sonorous wings over his abode, he does not hesitate.

If a cook of the stature of Anatole has to be sacrificed to ensure that his social reputation does not nosedive, so be it.

If the pocket allowance granted by the better half gets blown away on a racing misadventure, he starts supplementing his income by tutoring a despicable kid like Thos. His idea is that the lapse on his part should not come to the notice of the better half.

If the afternoon cup of tea held in high esteem by the better-half has to be delayed so as to drive a nutrition freak out of the couple’s life and burnish up his own image in the eyes of his lady-love, he does not twiddle his thumbs.

In this series of posts, we try to learn from Bingo Little the art of surviving and doing well in a matrimonial relationship.

A king in Babylon meets a Christian slave

We get introduced to the future Mrs Little in the short story ‘Bingo and the Little Woman’ (The InimitablePGW Inimitable_jeeves Jeeves). She pops up as a waitress at the Senior Liberal, where the youngest member is about eighty-seven. Bertie portrays her as a tallish girl with sort of soft, soulful brown eyes. She has a nice figure and rather decent hands. She raises the standard of the place quite a bit. Predictably, she casts a spell on Bingo.

Jeeves is sounded out.

‘Is Mr Little in trouble, sir?’

‘Well, you might call it that. He’s in love. For about the fifty-third time. I ask you, Jeeves, as man to man, did you ever see such a chap?’

‘Mr Little is certainly warm-hearted, sir.’

‘Warm-hearted! I should think he has to wear asbestos vests.’

Within a span of ten days, Bingo announces that he has been successful in his latest endeavour.

‘Good Lord! That is quick work. You haven’t known her for two weeks.’

‘Not in this life, no,’ said young Bingo. ‘But she has a sort of idea that we must have met in some previous existence. She thinks I must have been a king in Babylon when she was a Christian slave. I can’t say I remember it myself, but there may be something in it.’

Gift of a literary kind softens up Uncle Bittlesham, who agrees not to pit himself against the decrees of Fate and approves of the marriage. Bingo’s allowance continues to flow in every quarter.

The Code of the Woosters

A complication arises in the shape of Bertie himself, who never shies away from helping a pal in distress. Earlier on, he had been introduced to old Bittlesham as an author using a pseudonym – Rosie M. Banks. Mrs Little, upon meeting the old boy, stakes her claim to the name and proves her case. Before she has a chance of accosting Bertie seeking an explanation, Jeeves advises his master to scoot off to Norfolk, honouring a shooting invitation.

By the time Bertie is back, peace prevails. Uncle and the little woman have become great pals, discussing literature and other things. Bingo has no hesitation in telling Bertie that his uncle is convinced that he is a looney.

‘He – what!’

‘Yes. That was Jeeves’ idea, you know. It’s solved the whole problem splendidly. He suggested that I should tell my uncle that I had acted in perfectly good faith in introducing you to him as Rosie M. Banks; that I had repeatedly had it from your own lips that you were, and that I didn’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be. The idea being that you were subject to hallucinations and generally potty. And then we got hold of Sir Roderick Glossop – you remember, the old boy whose kid you pushed into the lake that day down at Ditteredge Hall – and he rallied round with his story of how he had come to lunch with you and found your bedroom full up with cats and fish, and how you had pinched his hat while you were driving past his car in a taxi, and all that, you know. It just rounded the whole thing off nicely. I always say, and I always shall say, that you’ve only got to stand on Jeeves, and fate can’t touch you.’

In ensuring a state of peace and harmony at home, Bingo demonstrates himself to be a man of chilled steel. Quoting their togetherness at school and college, he continues to persuade Bertie to smoothen things out between himself and his uncle. But when the situation warrants his establishing Bertie’s credentials as a looney, he does not hesitate. In managing uncles and in unraveling his own goofy scheme, projecting Bertie as Rosie M. Banks, he proves himself to be a ruthless husband.

The members of the so-called sterner sex who happen to be permanent members of the Self-harassed Husbands’ Association can perhaps learn a lot from Bingo Little’s example.

(Illustrations courtesy www)

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/04/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-2-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/07/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-3-of-4

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/05/04/attaining-matrimonial-bliss-some-tips-from-bingo-little-part-4-of-4)

Read Full Post »

Like in so many other realms of knowledge, P G Wodehouse displays great expertise in being a meteorologist as well.

Here is yet another delightful post from the inimitable Honoria Plum. Enjoy!

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

1939 Uncle Fred in the SpringtimeIt is commonly understood that, far from representing a bygone age, P.G. Wodehouse created an  idealised England that never really existed. Personally, I remain determined to find fragments of Wodehouse in reallife, and last October I immigrated to England in search of Plumtopia.

I arrived in time for a glorious Autumn –  my favourite season. Surprisingly, Wodehouse sets only one novel in Autumn (that I can recall).

I reached out a hand from under the blankets, and rang the bell for Jeeves.
‘Good evening, Jeeves,’
‘Good morning, sir’
This surprised me.
‘Is it morning?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Are you sure? It seems very dark outside.’
‘There is a fog, sir. If you will recollect, we are now in Autumn – season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.’
‘Season of what?’
‘Mists, sir, and mellow fruitfulness.’

The Code of the Woosters (1938)

Autumn 2012 in Berskhire

After a stunning Autumn – mellow and…

View original post 823 more words

Read Full Post »

Bertie imageAs one of the foremost champions of true blue chivalry, Bertie Wooster might have never suspected that the f of the s could even be disliking it. It transpires that some of the delicately nurtured find it stifling. They resent it. They detest it.

Here is a juicy post which draws our attention to this aspect of chivalry. Members of the so-called sterner sex stand warned.

lopamitra's avatarThere Are So Many People in the World

These days denizens of India are smarting in the aftermath of the airing of the documentary ‘India’s Daughter’, and crimes against women in general. However, this post is not about rapes, molestations, domestic violence and other kinds of harsh slings and arrows of life the female of the species face. Instead, it is about the softer kind of harassment we, the f of the s, beget from some of the members of the so-called sterner sex. It is the harassment of chivalry – feigned or otherwise. I believe it is equally discriminatory in nature.

The softer variety of discrimination robs us ladies of the kind of equality we secretly yearn for. It is the persecution of the “parfait gentle knights”, who abound in our society. Fuelled with a misplaced sense of chivalry, they are determined to serve the fairer sex, come what may. In a milder form, it…

View original post 623 more words

Read Full Post »

Leaders break the rules with aplomb. Famous authors also do it all the time. They have the courage of conviction to think out-of-box in matters of themes they choose, the structure of the narrative they come up with, or the language as well as expressions they use. P G Wodehouse is no exception. Literary agents of today, upon receiving one of his manuscripts, might end up twiddling their delicate thumbs and deciding to junk it without any remorse, thereby depriving us of some delightful stuff.
Here is a highly illuminating post on this subject from the inimitable Honoria Plum.
Enjoy!

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

“I am no stranger to butterfly belly. A man who has had to pass himself off as Gussie Fink-Nottle to four aunts in a chilly Hampshire dining room with only orange juice in the carburettor knows the meaning of fear.”

Jeeves and the Wedding Bells

Sebastian Faulks presumably knows the feeling pretty well too. As the author of Jeeves and the Wedding Bells, Faulks has risked the ire of Wodehouse fans (already disgrunted after the BBC Blandings fiasco) and potentially his own reputation as a writer. For one of the problems with imitating Wodehouse in the 21st Century is that his style runs somewhat contrary to prevailing ideas about ‘good writing’. For an idea of the depths to which modern writing has sunk, consider these Ten rules for writing fiction:

1933 Heavy Weather cropped1 “Never open a book with weather.”

If Wodehouse were starting out today, he could expect to…

View original post 1,999 more words

Read Full Post »

Some residents of Plumsville may like to join me in recalling our pre-adolescence days. Our first ever encounter withVeryGoodJeeves Cupid’s arrows. The time when innocence slowly started giving way to half-baked romances of a transient nature. The neighborhood crush and the chance encounters. The classroom and the furtive glances. The one-sided affections. The attempts at showcasing gallantry and modesty. The unfulfilled desire to share tips on demystifying Romeo and Juliet. The relentless yearning for companionship. The possibility of a picnic where the presence of a certain person made our hearts go all of a twitter.

A more sinister restlessness crept in when we got infatuated with someone within the dark confines of a cinema hall. Posters of an upcoming movie featuring the adored person invariably got more attention than any text-book at hand. Sneaking off to a matinée, while giving a skip to the homework assigned, was also attempted at times. This, despite the grave risks involved – either getting ticked off at home for errant behavior, or getting some of the juiciest ones on the soft spots by the Miss Tomlinsons and the Rev. Aubrey Upjohns in our lives.

In ‘The Love that Purifies’ (Very Good, Jeeves), we come across boys of a tender age who happen to be infatuated with Hollywood divas. We have Thos, who is besotted with Greta Garbo. We have Bonzo, who is in awe of Lilian Gish. Then, we have Sebastian Moon, whose affections are focused on Clara Bow.

How these infatuations transform the behavior of young boys is the nub or crux of the story. We are reminded that even menaces to society in general assume a saintly disposition when under the influence of the charms of their transient heart throbs.

Thug Thos, Pest Bonzo and Candid Moon

Greta Garbo

Greta Garbo

Many of us would recall that Thos, son of Aunt Agatha, happens to be a juvenile thug. When a Cabinet Minister reports him for smoking, he ends up getting marooned on an island, that too, when it is raining, and with no company but that of a nasty-minded swan. But when Thos comes under the spell of a Hollywood diva, his benevolent self emerges. He thinks nothing of walking a couple of miles, just to fetch a newspaper for Bertie Wooster.

Bonzo, the son of Aunt Dahlia, has a sound reputation as a pest. But if Thos sets a gold standard in devilry, Bonzo is merely a good, ordinary mischief-maker. His proud mother compares the two as follows:

‘Whenever it comes to devilry, Bonzo is a good, ordinary selling-plater. Whereas Thomas is a classic yearling.’

When Bonzo is in love, his nature gets altered. He tries to lead a finer, better life. When tempted to climb on the roof and boo down Mr Anstruther’s chimney, he refuses to oblige. When prompted to burst a paper bag below the chair of a resting old man, he merely walks off in a huff.

Jeeves is not wrong when he avers that ‘Love is a very powerful restraining influence at the age of thirteen.’

Sebastian Moon has goggle eyes and golden curls. He has a breezy candidness about him. Few years junior to both Thos and Bonzo, he happens to have long nourished a deep regard for Miss Clara Bow.

The Good Conduct Competition and the Wager

Lilian Gish

Lilian Gish

Bertie lands at Aunt Dahlia’s place without Jeeves, who is off on his annual vacation to Bognor for shrimping. He meets Mr. Anstruther, a moth-eaten septuagenarian, who had been a close friend of Aunt Dahlia’s late father. He is an agreeable cove but often suffers from nervous breakdowns. Also visiting are Aunt Dahlia’s son, Bonzo, and Aunt Agatha’s son, Thomas.

Anstruther, in an effort to get peace and quiet, has instituted a Good Conduct competition between the boys. The winner will earn a prize of five pounds.

Aunt Dahlia tells Bertie that she has entered a wager that if Thomas wins the prize, Aunt Dahlia will exchange the services of her chef Anatole for those of Lady Snettisham’s kitchen maid. Aunt Dahlia tries to persuade Bertie to get his man Jeeves down to Brinkley Court to ensure that Thomas does not win the contest, but Bertie claims he has a plan to accomplish this result.

He tries to get Thomas to lose control by making snide remarks, which are promptly laughed off by Thos. Soon, things take a sinister turn when Thos is found walking around six miles at an early hour, merely to fetch the Sporting Times for Bertie. This unselfish act of kindness gets him a bonus of twenty marks.

Bertie loses no time in reporting the matter to Aunt Dahlia.

She was stunned. Aghast, you might call it.
‘Thomas did that?’
‘Thos in person.’
‘Walked six miles to get you a paper?’
‘Walked six miles and a bit.’
‘The young hound! Good heavens, Bertie, do you realize that he may go on doing these Acts of kindness daily – perhaps twice a day? Is there no way of stopping him?’
‘None that I can think of. No, Aunt Dahlia, I must confess it. I am baffled. There is only one thing to do. We must send for Jeeves.’

Golden Curls and Despondency

Jeeves, when called upon to offer a solution, suggests bringing in Master Sebastian Moon, the boy with golden curls.

Clara Bow

Clara Bow

Jeeves thinks that strongest natures are sometimes not proof against long golden curls. He goes on to elaborate as follows:

‘I do not think I am too sanguine, sir. You must remember that Master Moon, apart from his curls, has a personality which is not uniformly pleasing. He is apt to express himself with a breezy candour which I fancy Master Thomas might feel inclined to resent in one some years his junior.’

However, the plan to let Thos and Moon be alone somewhere and let Nature do the rest comes unstuck. Upon Moon getting a nail in his shoe, a saint-like Thos carries him on his back in hot sunshine all the way back home. After all, Thos’ idea is to spend the remainder of his life trying to make himself worthy of Greta Garbo.

Depression sets in. This is how Bertie confesses his skepticism towards taking things for granted.

You know, the older I get the more firmly do I become convinced that there is no such thing as a pip in existence. Again and again have I seen the apparently sure thing go phut, and now it is rarely indeed that I can be lured from my aloof skepticism.

Anatole’s cooking streak fails to lift the spirits of the members of the Wooster clan. Food melts in the mouth but eyes are invariably full of unshed tears. The prospect of losing Anatole is too much to bear.

The Thug succumbs to Jeeves’ cunning!

Then, on the very last afternoon of Mr Anstruther’s stay, Thos, who gets the top slot in Bertie’s Rogue’s Gallery of repulsive small boys, succumbs to Jeeves’ cunning.

It is a warm, drowsy and peaceful afternoon. The birds are hopping, the butterflies are fluttering, the bees are buzzing and the old Mr Anstruther is enjoying his afternoon siesta in the garden when all hell breaks loose.

While playing together in the stable-yard, Thos is stirred to his depths by some brutally disparaging remarks made by Master Sebastian in respect of Miss Garbo. Prompted by Jeeves, Sebastian apparently conveys his opinion that Greta Garbo is definitely inferior to Clara Bow – both in beauty and talent!

Predictably, an altercation follows. In the ensuing melee, the old man gets rudely woken up and somehow gets drenched in a bucketful of water. Moving adroitly for his age, he picks up a stick which is lying around and goes into action like a two-year old, chasing Thos round the house.

Marie Lloyd

Marie Lloyd

Thanks to Jeeves, Bonzo wins the Good Conduct Contest, Aunt Dahlia wins the bet and Anatole continues to churn out his lavish spreads at her place at Worcestershire.

Bertie remarks thus:

‘Jeeves, this Younger Generation is hot stuff.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Were you like that in your day?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Nor I, Jeeves. At the age of fourteen I once wrote to Marie Lloyd for her autograph, but apart from that my private life could bear the strictest investigation.’

Jeeves wins an extended holiday at Bognor, obviously giving a tough time to all the shrimps which attempt to pit their feeble cunning against him.

Cupid’s arrows happen to be democratic in nature. These do not discriminate based on religion, sex, ethnicity or age. One could be of an advanced age. One could have attained adulthood. One could even be of a very tender age.

These also have an uplifting effect on the soul. One aspires to lead an exemplary life. One wishes to rise in the esteem of the beloved. One aspires to be worthy of the adored person.

Unluckily, such infatuations happen to be transient in nature. Were these to last long, there would perhaps be no need to have reformatory systems in place for the kind of heinous crimes pre-adolescents appear to commit at times!

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/06/09/some-plumsville-kids-and-the-richter-scale-of-roguishness-part-1-of-3

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/06/17/some-plumsville-kids-and-the-richter-scale-of-roguishness-part-2-of-3

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/06/25/some-plumsville-kids-and-the-richter-scale-of-roguishness-part-3-of-3)

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »