Here is a guest post from Mr. Ramendra Kumar which all the fans of P G Wodehouse would relish. It is a juicy summary of the sunlit valleys and the murmuring rivulets of humor which criss-cross through all of Plumsville.
Posted in What ho!, tagged P G Wodehouse on January 6, 2015| 8 Comments »
Here is a guest post from Mr. Ramendra Kumar which all the fans of P G Wodehouse would relish. It is a juicy summary of the sunlit valleys and the murmuring rivulets of humor which criss-cross through all of Plumsville.
Posted in What ho!, tagged Being a couch potato, Exercise, Health, Humor, Longreads, P G Wodehouse, Pranayama, Yoga on January 1, 2015| 22 Comments »
Yet another New Year has dawned. It is time for me to exercise my tiny grey cells and fulfill my obligations to society
by making a resolution. Ideally speaking, I should make one which does not get consigned to the dustbins of my pious intentions before the first week of January gets over.
I happen to be a self-proclaimed couch potato. When it comes to being a lazy bum, I am a leader amongst men. The resolution which has appealed to me since the past several years goes something like this:
‘I hereby resolve, like in all the previous years, to start doing some kind of exercise.’
Had one of the Master Wordsmiths of our times, P G Wodehouse, been around, he might have permitted me to express myself in the following manner.
A couple of decades back, I was content to crawl out of bed and undergo the daily ritual of performing the morning ablutions. I would then proceed to the breakfast table, all geared up to attack the deep-fried stuff on offer, accompanied by liberal helpings of milk, with dates, dry fruits and corn flakes thrown in for good measure. A glorious start to the proceedings of the day!
These days, life presents different challenges. A health-conscious spouse ensures that the breakfast table merely offers a slice of apple, a boiled egg sans yolk, and some oats, which, on my luckier days, come with a dash of soya milk. My digestive juices register a strong protest at the lack of attention being paid to them. My stomach grumbles, but to no avail. The day starts on a somber note.
The epidemic of strict dieting and supreme physical fitness pervades the collective conscience of the denizens of our country. If I am not a member of a gym, I am looked down upon. If I am not following exciting tips on achieving a life eternal on internet and social media, I am considered backward. Friends bandy about health-monitoring apps on their smart-phones, making me feel inadequate, unsuccessful and depressed.
I am continuously exhorted to follow a wide array of exercise regimen, ranging from complicated yogic postures to Larsen exercises popularized by Ashe Marson of ‘Something Fresh’ fame. Physicians of all kinds keep threatening me that if I fail to do so, I shall meet a fate worse than death. To help me achieve a healthier life, a mind-boggling variety of methods are on offer. Each of these is vying for my attention, promising salvation in the form of perfect physique and robust health.
Movies are full of the virtues of having six-pack abs. Heroes, oozing testosterone, routinely thrash villains by the dozen. After surviving all odds, they eventually end up in a tight embrace with a perfectly formed specimen of the delicately nurtured amongst us. Opening a magazine, I run into semi-nude demigods with stiff upper lips and finely chiseled bodies, eyeing me rather condescendingly. Their bulging muscles make me turn green with envy. Switching on a TV channel, I am apt to run into a Bollywood diva imparting lessons on all kinds of aerobic exercises. All this depresses me somewhat. Realization dawns that I have failed to live up to the exacting standards of physique in vogue these days.
The younger ones in the family keep prodding me in the ribs, exhorting me to join a gym of some kind or the other. A
neighbor who fancies himself to be a friend keeps inviting me to join him in his daily morning 5-km walks. He is of the firm opinion that unless one bends, stretches and undergoes a rigorous regimen of gravity-defying yogic poses, one has no hope of being able to survive.
Exercising is not easy. There are insurmountable odds to be overcome. One, the weather often plays spoil sport. If it is too cold, I find it pretty demanding to get out of the warmth of my bedroom. If it is too hot, I shudder at the prospect of sweating profusely after having done the prescribed quota of jogging, push-ups or whatever. If it is raining, I have a perfect excuse to continue to laze around in bed, quietly sipping my morning dose of a tissue restorative. On some mornings, I am just not feeling energetic enough to start the day by troubling my body in any way. On others, the rush to work makes it feel like such a waste of time. Then there are several assignments to be completed even before one heads to office, making it well-nigh impossible to indulge in the luxury of an exercise of some sort or the other.
Then there is the handicap of living in cities. Cocooned in a concrete match-box, one’s endeavors to throw about one’s limbs end up upsetting a lot of stuff. This promptly starts a verbal World War III between me and my better half. If attempted in the small balcony, I am apt to be looked at with derision and amusement by all those enjoying their morning cup of tea in the balconies opposite. If some of them happen to belong to the tribe of the delicately nurtured, my fate is sealed.
Moreover, by their very nature, cities take a jaundiced view of any kind of physical exercise, unless undertaken with some practical object in view. I may run to catch a bus or a metro but no eyebrows would get raised. I may even chase a just-dislodged cap on a busy thoroughfare – without causing adverse comment. I may skip and jump so as to avoid either an auto rickshaw or a speeding car. But, if I run simply because I wish to strengthen my heart or jump because it improves my calf muscles, I merely invite sarcasm and ridicule.
The privacy of my own home is also illusory in nature. Before beginning an exercise routine, I have to ensure the maid is not around, lest my efforts are either greeted with some sly giggles or misconstrued as advances of an amorous kind. If the milk vendor comes in just when I am getting warmed up, an irritating break comes about.
Even if I am able to snatch some precious moments to take care of my body in the privacy of my own home, pretty soon it becomes highly monotonous. Anything done routinely becomes so very boring. If I were to invest in a stationary bicycle, the prospect of having to peddle it while watching a favorite movie on my TV/laptop is so very appalling. The bicycle would merely end up evolving into a frightfully expensive towel stand.
This philosophy – of body over mind – makes me pause and think if all this emphasis on physical improvement does not have an adverse effect on the soul.
If I were to become a very strong person physically, I would cease to be a peace-loving feather-weight crusader of sorts. Given my super size ego, I am sure to become a guy who could impart coaching on the subject of ‘How to Lose Friends and Win Enemies.’ I would give all my colleagues an inferiority complex. I would simply dominate all conversations I become a part of. To me, silence would cease to be golden. I shall go about with my chest expanded, a nuisance to all whom I encounter. All this would drive me further away from my own true self. Given my soft and delicate nature, my soul shall forever be in torment.
It would also affect my moral fiber. Rather than being modest, as at present, I would end up being proud of myself. When I run into a highly intelligent person not being able to touch his toes forty times without bending his knees, I would simply feel superior and look down upon him. The old reverence and the deferential attitude would simply evaporate. This would be morally corrupting.
After having brooded for some time over this predicament of Homo sapiens, I have realized that what humanity
really needs is a system of spiritual exercises which shall develop the soul in a systematic manner. This way, the soul can keep pace with the muscles and the self-esteem.
By joining an organization which conducts group meditations, I have managed to be assured of at least two hours of sitting in a hard-backed chair in an upright posture every single day. During this time, spread over four sessions, I nudge my mind towards creative visualization. I imagine that I am doing all the yogic postures and pranayamas prescribed by the yogis of yore. In between, much like a commercial break on a TV channel, I allow my mind to hover over some pleasurable experience – a chat with the kids, an uproariously funny scene from a Bollywood flick, or a delicious meal enjoyed at a friend’s place recently. All this is done while sitting in my bedroom, or even while sipping my early morning restorative on the balcony.
An approach of this kind, when tried for a week recently, has worked wonders. It has helped me to overcome the deep feeling of guilt for not taking adequate care of my body. My moral fiber is intact. My soul is contented, having been given an opportunity to grow in tandem with my physical self.
To sum it up, my entire being feels happy and joyful. I am still my sober and delicate self. I continue with my humble frame of mind, admirably calculated to nullify the sinful pride generated by rigorous physical exercises.
My friends have already started asking me the secret of my youthfulness. I have no hesitation in spreading some cheer around by sharing with them the special exercise regimen I have developed for myself.
I do believe that I now have a New Year resolution which will not fade away into unsung glory, to be rediscovered only at the end of the year. Hope most of you have also been able to come up with ones which really get fulfilled.
Happy New Year!
(Dedicated to P G Wodehouse. Illustrations done by Tanya are gratefully acknowledged.)
[Related Post: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2012/02/29/a-potato-protests%5D
Posted in What ho!, tagged Christmas, Humour, P G Wodehouse on December 19, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Reiterating a homage to Plum this Christmas!
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Santa asked us what he may bring us the next day.
We share with you the list which made him laugh aloud Ho Ho,
You may expand it, but please do not trim it, What ho!
We want to play with Poppet the dachshund who has a dislike for cats,
He would stop in his tracks, draw back his ears and drive away the gnats.
To play with Dog Bartholomew would be no less interesting,
Perhaps just to see the superior expression on his face vanishing.
Cat Augustus will perhaps become friends with us,
He may consent to doze off on our bed with us.
We hope a permission Lord Emsworth surely gives,
To visit the royal sty where the Empress lives.
Grand-uncle Tom we want to definitely meet in his study,
To offer him some advice on his…
View original post 186 more words
Posted in What ho!, tagged Bertie Wooster, Gussie, Jeeves, Madeline, P G Wodehouse, Pop Bassett, Sidney Carton, Stiffy, Stinker Pinker, The Code of the Woosters on November 9, 2014| 3 Comments »
Howsoever irrational and demanding his pals, Bertie would never let them down. Show him a soul in torment and he would rush in to provide the healing touch. A couple whose union is threatened by either a parent or an uncle gets his unstinted support, even if it means his taking the rap for a misdemeanor he is not at all connected with.
We see him rallying around when a member of the so-called sterner sex is incapable of expressing his tender feelings to a member of the tribe of the delicately nurtured. Often, we find him persuading a member of the opposite sex to end a bitter feud with a friend who has been returned to store on account of some misunderstanding.
At times, we find him charming his returned-to-store pals against running across the Atlantic. This ensures that they remain readily available for a speedy reconciliation between the sundered souls. This also protects him from the perils of losing his own bachelorhood!
This personality trait – to never let a pal down – shines through all memoirs of his. In ‘The Code of the Woosters’, we find him facilitating two love affairs – one involving Madeline Bassett and Gussie Fink-Nottle, and another involving Stephanie Byng and the Rev. Harold Pinker.
As the narrative unfolds, we find him advising the first pair. As to the second pair, despite his better judgment, he gets persuaded by Stiffy to carry out some of her fruity schemes, leaving him all-of-a-twitter.
An Altruistic Nature
Madeline has severed her ties with Gussie and declared her willingness to instead make Bertie happy. Bertie is trying to establish that Gussie’s motives in being intimate with Stiffy were as pure as the driven snow, namely, to secure his notebook which contains some juicy references to Sir Watkyn Bassett and Roderick Spode.
‘It is useless, Bertie. I know, of course, why you are speaking like this. It is that sweet, generous nature of yours. There are no lengths to which you will not go to help a friend, even though it may mean the wrecking of your own happiness. But there is nothing you say that will change me. I have finished with Augustus. From tonight he will be to me merely a memory – a memory that will grow fainter and fainter through the years as you and I draw ever closer together. You will help me to forget. With you beside me, I shall be able in time to exorcise Augustus’ spell.’
Bertie once again tries his best to prove to Madeline that Gussie is more to be pitied than censured.
‘And you say Stephanie has hidden this notebook in Daddy’s cow-creamer?’
‘Plumb spang in the cow-creamer.’
‘But I never heard such an extraordinary story in my life.’
‘Bizarre, yes, but quite capable of being swallowed, don’t you think? What you have got to take into consideration is the psychology of the individual. You may say that you wouldn’t have a psychology like Stiffy’s if you were paid for it, but it’s hers all right.’
‘Are you sure you are not making this all up, Bertie?’
‘Why on earth?’
‘I know your altruistic nature so well.’
Advising a Newt-fancier
Despite having shown the notebook to Madeline, Gussie manages to get Pop Bassett to ban his marriage to her. It is then left to Bertie to advise him on the right course of action.
‘Listen, Gussie,’ I said. ‘I think I’ve got it.’
His face lit up. I could see that optimism had stirred and was shaking a leg. This Fink-Nottle has always been of an optimistic nature. Those who recall his address to the boys of Market Snodsbury Grammar School will remember that it was largely an appeal to the little blighters not to look on the dark side.
‘Yes, I believe I see the way. What you have got to do, Gussie, is pinch that cow-creamer.’
The Risk of a Saunter down the Aisle
Denizens of Plumsville would recall that – in another narrative – when Gussie Fink-Nottle had shrunk from pleading his cause with Madeline Bassett, he had asked Bertie to plead for him. The result was that Madeline thought that Bertie was pleading his own case. So, when Gussie fell out of favor (after a sozzled-up prize-giving ceremony at the school), Madeline had lost no time in attaching herself to Bertie and returning Gussie to store.
Mercifully, things had got straightened out, saving Bertie the trauma of having to spend the rest of his life with Madeline.
Mourning for a Loony Pal
Constable Oate’s pinched helmet has been hidden by Stiffy in a suitcase of Bertie’s. Its discovery by the butler has landed Bertie in a soup. He faces the prospect of thirty days without the option.
Meanwhile, Pop Bassett has forbidden the union between Stiffy and the Rev. Pinker. Bassett Senior has taken umbrage at the part played by Pinker in allowing the purloiner of the cow-creamer to effect her/his escape.
Does Bertie feel happy at the misfortune being faced by Stiffy? No. Despite the predicament in which he finds himself – entirely due to Stiffy – he still wishes the young loony well and mourns for her in her hour of disaster.
The Inheritance of Combined Loopiness
Bertie is not only worried about the relationship between Stiffy and Stinker Pinker getting blesses by her uncle. He is even concerned about the upcoming generation.
‘The more the thoughts dwell on that young shrimp, the more the soul sickens in horror. One peers into the future, and shudders at what one sees there. One has to face it, Jeeves – Stiffy, who is pure padded cell from the foundations up, is about to marry the Rev. H. P. Pinker, himself about as pronounced a goop as ever broke bread, and there is no reason to suppose – one has to face this, too – that their union will not be blessed. There will, that is to say, ere long be little feet pattering about the home. And what one asks oneself is – Just how safe will human life be in the vicinity of those feet, assuming – as one is forced to assume – that they will inherit the combined loopiness of two such parents? It is with a sense of tender pity, Jeeves, that I think of the nurses, the governesses, the private-school masters and the public-school masters who will lightly take on the responsibility of looking after a blend of Stephanie Byng and Harold Pinker, little knowing that they are coming up against something hotter than mustard.’
Never Letting a Pal Down
Stiffy invokes the Code of the Woosters to get Bertie to fall in line, ensuring that Pinker does not have to take the rap for stealing Constable Oate’s helmet and thereby face the prospect of getting defrocked.
‘I can’t have my precious angel Harold doing a stretch.’
‘How about your precious angel Bertram?’
‘But Harold is sensitive.’
‘So am I sensitive.’
‘Not half so sensitive as Harold. Bertie, surely you aren’t going to be difficult about this? You’re much too good a sport. Didn’t you tell me once that the Code of the Woosters was ‘Never let a pal down?’
She had found the talking point. People who appeal to the Code of the Woosters rarely fail to touch a chord in Bertram. My iron front began to crumble.
‘That’s all very fine-‘
‘Bertie, darling!’
‘Yes, I know, but, dash it all –‘
‘Bertie!’
‘Oh, well!’
‘You will take the rap?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Thank you, Bertie darling. I knew you would be sweet about it. I can’t tell you how grateful I am, and how much I admire you. You remind me of Carter Paterson…no, that’s not it…Nick Carter…no, not Nick Carter…Who does Mr Wooster remind me of, Jeeves?’
‘Sidney Carton, miss.’
‘That’s right. Sidney Carton. But he was small-time stuff compared with you, Bertie.’
Whenever Bertie finds a friend of his in peril of any nature, the milk of human kindness sloshing about within his bosom comes to the fore. There is nothing he would not do to save a friend in need. This personality trait forms the core of the Code of the Woosters.
(Part 5 of a 6-part series of posts on The Code of the Woosters)
[Related Posts:
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/bertie-wooster-and-the-art-of-breaking-bad-news-gently/
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/26/when-bertie-wooster-decides-to-assert-himself/
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/30/of-bertie-goofy-females-and-the-wooster-clan
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/11/05/some-finer-shades-of-the-code-of-the-woosters
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/11/16/de-codifying-the-code-of-the-woosters%5D
Posted in What ho!, tagged Bertie Wooster, Constable Oates, Cow-creamer, Helmet, Jeeves, Madeline Bassett, P G Wodehouse, Pop Bassett, Stiffy, The Code of the Woosters on November 5, 2014| 5 Comments »
The code that Bertie Wooster follows while interacting with the denizens of Plumsville has several finer shades to it.
Here are some more examples, as gleaned from The Code of the Woosters.
Being a Boy Scout and a Bulldog
Bertie is invariably happy when playing the role of a boy scout. Performing little acts of kindness makes him happy. When Aunt Dahlia sends him off on a mission to sneer at the cow-creamer in an antique shop, he does not mind his morning plans getting changed.
When he arrives at the shop on Brampton Road, he runs into Sir Watkyn Bassett, CBE. The bulldog strain in the Woosters comes into play. He does not run away. He stands firm.
A Resilience of Nature
These are his feelings when, prodded by Jeeves and Stiffy, he agrees to go and tell Pop Bassett that he plans to marry Stiffy.
It has been well said of Bertram Wooster by those who know him best that there is a certain resilience in his nature that enables him as a general rule to rise on stepping-stones of his dead self in the most unfavourable circumstances. It isn’t often that I fail to keep the chin up and the eye sparkling.
The Chin-up Attitude
When Bertie decides to go and search Stiffy’s room for Gussie’s notebook containing some juicy references to Pop Bassett and Roderick Spode, he is not very delighted at the prospect of carrying out his own plans.
I hate these surreptitious prowlings. Bertie Wooster is a man who likes to go through the world with his chin up and both feet on the ground, not to sneak about on tiptoe with his spine tying itself into reef knots.
When a butler tells Bertie that Madeline Bassett desires him to spare a moment for her, he can foresee the impending doom.
I gazed at the man dully, like someone in a prison cell when the jailer has stepped in at dawn to notify him that the firing squad is ready.
I braced myself with the old Wooster grit. Up came the chin, back went the shoulders.
‘Lead on,’ I said to the butler, and the butler led on.
Being Humane
Bertie is not fond of Sir Watkyn Bassett, CBE. He is the magistrate who had pinched Bertie for five quids by way of a fine at Bosher Street.
While being a guest of Aunt Dahlia’s, he has the audacity to make a job offer to Anatole, God’s gift to gastric juices. When Uncle Tom tells him about a silver cow-creamer being held for him at an antique shop on Brampton Road, he hatches a devilish plot to beat him to it. A sumptuous lunch made up of cold lobsters and sliced cucumber follows, making Uncle Tom miss his rendezvous with the shop keeper. Pop Bassett then nips across and buys the cow-creamer himself.
When Bertie is a guest of his at Totleigh Towers, he is not averse to getting his room searched for either a cow-creamer or a policeman’s helmet. Nothing in his record suggests that he possesses a niceness of feeling and a respect for the basic laws of hospitality.
But Bertie is a gentleman at heart. Having just given Pop Bassett a shock by stating that he intends to marry his niece Stiffy, he does not like the idea of Madeline rushing in to tell her father that she wants to marry Bertie. His humane instincts come to the fore.
I started. I could still see Pop Bassett’s face when he had thought that he was going to draw me for a nephew. It would be a bit thick, I felt, while he was still quivering to the roots of the soul at the recollection of that hair’s-breadth escape, to tell him that I was about to become his son-in-law. I was not fond of Pop Bassett, but one has one’s humane instincts.
‘Oh, my aunt!’ I said. ‘Don’t do that!’
A Stickler to Rules
When policemen’s helmets have to be pinched, there is a standard technique to be followed. Giving the forward shove before the upwards lift is the right way to going about it. But when Stinker Pinker swings into action, Constable Oates has taken his helmet off and put it on the ground. Pinker merely creeps up and grabs the desired object.
Bertie believes this to be a wrong way of pinching a helmet. He considers Stinker Pinker’s behavior morally tantamount to shooting a sitting bird.
Members of the Drones Club have strong views on these things. Even in acts of a goofy nature, rules must be scrupulously followed.
The Pumpkin Quotient
Bertie is quite clear when it comes to his ranking on a scale which measures the extent to being pumpkin-headed.
‘I can’t understand you, Bertie – the way you’re always criticizing poor Harold. I thought you were so fond of him.’
‘I love him like a b. But that doesn’t alter my opinion that of all the pumpkin-headed foozlers who ever preached about Hivites and Jebusites, he is the foremost.’
‘He isn’t half as pumpkin-headed as you.’
‘He is, at a conservative estimate, about twenty-seven times as pumpkin-headed as me. He begins where I leave off. It may be a strong thing to say, but he’s more pumpkin-headed than Gussie.’
Being aware of one’s Pumpkin Quotient is a quality many of us can learn.
Never Allowing the Upper Lip to Unstiffen
Depression comes in all sizes and shapes. But irrespective of whether it is U-shaped, V-shaped or W-shaped, we would do well to remember this advice from Bertie Wooster.
‘A short while ago, the air was congested with V-shaped depressions, but now one looks north, south, east and west and descries not a single cloud on the horizon – except the fact that Gussie’s wedding is still off, and that can’t be helped. Well, this should certainly teach us, should it not, never to repine, never to despair, never to allow the upper lip to unstiffen, but always to remember that, no matter how dark the skies may be, the sun is shining somewhere and will eventually come smiling through.’
Code of the Woosters has several facets. Each one tells us how (or how not) to lead our lives. The appeal of Bertie Wooster’s character perhaps lies in the fact that these aspects of his conduct touch our inner chords, that too in a manner which is light-hearted and liberally laced with heady humor.
(Part 4: Decodifying the Code of the Woosters)
[Related Posts:
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/bertie-wooster-and-the-art-of-breaking-bad-news-gently
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/26/when-bertie-wooster-decides-to-assert-himself
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/30/of-bertie-goofy-females-and-the-wooster-clan
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/11/16/de-codifying-the-code-of-the-woosters%5D
Posted in What ho!, tagged Aunt Dahlia, Bertie Wooster, Jeeves, P G Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters on October 30, 2014| 17 Comments »
The character of Bertie Wooster is a study in contrasts. He has a dreamy sweetness about him. He is soft and chivalrous. He has a generous soul. He declines all proposals of marriage in a very polished manner. He never bandies about a woman’s name. 
But very often he also displays a unique strength of character. He can also speak his mind. If there is a fruity scheme which might result in the Code of the Woosters getting compromised, he is not game.
The delicately nurtured invariably corner Bertie and persuade him to do something truly goofy and get him into a jam. Gwladys puts her boyfriend with a broken leg in his flat. Pauline Stoker invades his rural cottage at the dead of night in a bathing suit. Florence Craye, Pauline Stoker, Roberta Wickham, Vanessa Cook, Nobby and Stiffy Byng are some other characters which immediately spring to one’s mind.
Not to be left behind, his rough and tough aunts also come up with demands which put the hapless Bertie in a fix. But unlike other members of the opposite sex, they also stand up and protect him when they notice a threat to the Wooster clan.
In The Code of the Woosters, both Aunt Dahlia and Stiffy exhort him to pinch a silver cow-creamer. He does not fall prey to their machinations. His views on the opposite sex in general and on aunts in particular reveal to us the underlying code of conduct he normally follows.
When the Delicately nurtured Lie
When girlfriends and wives give the men in their lives a build-up, they often end up overdoing it. They never know when to stop while doing so. But do they lie in the process?
I remember Mrs Bingo Little once telling me, shortly after their marriage, that Bingo said poetic things to her about sunsets – his best friends being perfectly well aware, of course, that the old egg never noticed a sunset in his life and that, if he did by a fluke ever happen to do so, the only thing he would say about it would be that it reminded him of a slice of roast beef, cooked just right.
However, you can’t call a girl a liar; so, as I say, I said: ‘Well, well!’
Being a Preux Chevalier
Bertie has perfected the art of retaining his bachelorhood. This is how he explains his reasons for not willing to take a saunter down the aisle with Madeline.
‘I should feel just the same about marrying many of the world’s noblest women. There are certain females whom one respects, admires, reveres, but only from a distance. If they show any signs of attempting to come closer, one is prepared to fight them off with a blackjack. It is to this group that your cousin Madeline belongs. A charming girl, and the ideal mate for Augustus Fink-Nottle, but ants in the pants to Bertram.’
Being a Shrewd but Level-headed Pig
It is understandable that parents do not normally approve of their daughters marrying curates. Same goes for uncles who are concerned about their nieces. Since Stiffy would like to get married to a curate – Stinker Pinker – she must find a way to sell him to her uncle, Pop Bassett. Bertie’s services are requisitioned. However, Bertie has no intentions of becoming a part of any of her loathsome schemes.
I told myself that I must be firm. But I could not but remember Roberta Wickham and the hot-water bottle. A man thinks he is chilled steel – or adamant, if you prefer the expression – and suddenly the mists clear away and he finds that he has allowed a girl to talk him into something frightful. Samson had the same experience with Delilah.
Plain praise would not work, she feels. Pinker saving a drowning uncle from a boat in the lake is an idea shot down by both of them, simply because there is no lake around. A friend dressing up as a tramp and attacking the uncle, followed by the man in shining armor dashing in and rescuing him, is an idea which is quashed by Bertie. Stiffy then comes up with another terrific idea – that of Bertie stealing Uncle Watkyn’s cow-creamer! Pinker would then secure the object d’art and hand it over to her uncle, thereby earning his gratitude and a vicarage. Bertie refuses to oblige, earning a reprimand from Stiffy.
‘I do mean I won’t do it.’
‘Well, I think you are a pig.’
‘A pig, maybe, but a shrewd, level-headed pig.’
Stiffy then offers a reward to Bertie – return of Gussie’s notebook with juicy comments about Pop Bassett and Roderick Spode. Bertie shudders at the prospect.
The Royal Disapproval
Jeeves and Bertie agree that the modern emancipation of women may not have the royal seal of approval.
‘The whole fact of the matter is that all this modern emancipation of women has resulted in them getting it up their noses and not giving a damn what they do. It was not like this in Queen Victoria’s day. The Prince Consort would have had a word to say about a girl like Stiffy, what?’
‘I can conceive that His Royal Highness might quite possibly not have approved of Miss Byng.’
The effect of a Woman’s Grief
‘But you are going to help us, aren’t you?’
‘I am not.’
‘Well, I do think you might.’
‘I dare say you do, but I won’t.’
Somewhere about the first or second line of this chunk of dialogue, I had observed her eyes begin to moisten and her lips to tremble, and a pearly one had started to steal down the cheek. The bursting of the dam, of which that pearly one had been the first preliminary trickle, now set in with great severity. With a brief word to the effect that she wished she were dead and that I would look pretty silly when I gazed down at her coffin, knowing that my inhumanity had put her there, she flung herself on the bed and started going oomp.
It was the old uncontrollable sob-stuff which she had pulled earlier in the proceedings, and once more I found myself a bit unmanned. I stood there irresolute, plucking nervously at the cravat. I have already alluded to the effect of a woman’s grief on the Woosters.
When Aunts aren’t Gentlemen
Aunts play a stellar role in Bertie’s life. But their affection often comes with a price tag. An invitation to the dining table at Brinkley Court could get withdrawn in case of any deficiency in service.
‘If I had my life to live again, Jeeves, I would start it as an orphan without any aunts. Don’t they put aunts in Turkey in sacks and drop them in the Bosphorous?’
‘Odalisques, sir, I understand. Not aunts.’
‘Well, why not aunts? Look at the trouble they cause in the world. I tell you, Jeeves, and you may quote me as saying this – behind every poor, innocent, harmless blighter who is going down for the first time in the soup, you will find, if you look carefully enough, the aunt who shoved him into it.’
‘There is much in what you say, sir.’
‘It is no use telling me that there are bad aunts and good aunts. At the core, they are all alike. Sooner or later, out pops the cloven hoof. Consider this Dahlia, Jeeves. As sound an egg as ever cursed a foxhound for chasing a rabbit, I have always considered her. And she goes and hands me an assignment like this. Wooster, the pincher of policemen’s helmets, we know. We are familiar with Wooster, the supposed bag-snatcher. But it was left for this aunt to present to the world a Wooster who goes to the houses of retired magistrates and, while eating their bread and salt, swipes their cow-creamers. Faugh!’ I said, for I was a good deal overwrought.
‘Most disturbing, sir.’
Standing Up for the Clan
Aunt Dahlia may be too demanding at times. But when the honor of the Wooster clan is at stake, she does not hesitate to put her foot down. Here are two instances which go on to prove this point.
Stopping Spode in his tracks
‘I must ask you to leave us, madam,’ he said.
‘But I’ve only just come,’ said Aunt Dahlia.
‘I am going to thrash this man within an inch of his life.’
It was quite the wrong tone to take with the aged relative. She has a very clannish spirit and, as I have said, is fond of Bertram. Her brow darkened.
‘You don’t touch a nephew of mine.’
‘I am going to break every bone in his body.’
You aren’t going to do anything of the sort. The idea!….Here, you!’
Getting Bertie dismissed without a Stain on his Character
Butterfield, the butler, has just brought in the missing helmet of Constable Oates on a silver salver. While airing Stiffy’s dog sometime earlier, he has observed Bertie Wooster dropping it from his window. Aunt Dahlia takes the floor, trying to protect Bertie. First, she reasons, the helmet could have been dropped from some other window. Then, she proposes that the butler had himself stolen the helmet and was merely trying to pass on the buck to Bertie. Saintly looking butlers with a furtive eye come in for a sharp criticism.
Overall, Aunt Dahlia injects into the proceedings a very pleasant atmosphere of all-pals-together and hearty let’s-say-no-more-about it. However, Pop Bassett is not inclined to dismiss Bertie without a stain on his character. He sees no reason to revise his earlier resolve to get the perpetrator of the crime to serve a prison sentence.
‘Here, come, I say now, Sir Watkyn, really, dash it,’ she expostulated, always on her toes when the interests of the clan were threatened. ‘You can’t do that sort of thing.’
‘Madam, I both can and will.’
When her repeated pleadings fail, she negotiates a deal with the retired magistrate: he gets Anatole while Bertie gets his release!
The Feudal Spirit
Bertie is profoundly moved when he discovers that Aunt Dahlia is prepared to dispense with the services of Anatole merely to save him from getting bunged into a chokey for a month.
‘You were actually contemplating giving up Anatole for my sake?’ I gasped.
‘Of course.’
‘Of course jolly well not! I would not hear of such a thing.’
‘But you can’t go to prison.’
‘I certainly can, if my going means that that supreme maestro will continue working at the old stand. Don’t dream of meeting old Bassett’s demands.’
‘Bertie! Do you mean this?’
‘I should say so. What’s a mere thirty days in the second division? A bagatelle. I can do it on my head. Let Bassett do his worst. And,’ I added in a softer voice, ‘when my time is up and I come out into the world once more a free man, let Anatole do his best. A month of bread and water or skilly or whatever they feed you in these establishments, will give me a rare appetite. On the night when I emerge, I shall expect a dinner that will live in legend and song.’
‘You shall have it.’
Opinion on Bertie’s intellectual capabilities could be divided. But there is no doubt that his heart is in the right place. Even if it turns out to be that of chilled steel, the milk of human kindness sloshing about within makes him yield to pressure from pals and aunts alike. Yet, the core of his heart glows with a dazzling sparkle – that of a diamond called the Code of the Woosters.
(Part 3: Decodifying the Code of the Woosters)
[Related Posts:
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/bertie-wooster-and-the-art-of-breaking-bad-news-gently
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/26/when-bertie-wooster-decides-to-assert-himself
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/04/12/different-shades-of-women-in-plumsville
https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/01/28/bertie-wooster-needs-your-opinion%5D
Posted in What ho!, tagged Aunt Dahlia, Bertie Wooster, Jeeves, P G Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters on October 26, 2014| 15 Comments »
When it comes to delivering bad news gently, Bertie Wooster is good. His technique involves an adequate amount of foreplay and inane conversation, followed by the news which is likely to leave the other person all-of-a-twitter.
However, when the situation demands, he can also be tough on the errant person, putting him or her in place. Mind you, he does not offend. He merely follows the Code of the Woosters and plays firm and steady. He does so till the time the object of his derision wilts and relents.
He asserts himself. Much like the ancient Roman gladiators, he also chooses to be aggressive at times, whereupon his agility and nippiness knows no bounds. If he is sarcastic, his nonchalant manner rules supreme. It is another matter that his brand of subtle sarcasm is often lost on a hard-boiled party of the other part.
Here are some instances from ‘The Code of the Woosters’ which demonstrate Bertie’s power to assert himself.
Standing up to Gussie’s Amorous Plans
Gussie’s notebook containing juicy remarks on Pop Bassett and Rederick Spode continues to be in Stiffy’s possession. Gussie comes up with a fruity scheme to retrieve the notebook from her.
‘Well, listen. You could easily engage her in a sort of friendly romp, if you know what I mean, in the course of which it would be simple to…well, something in the nature of a jocular embrace…’
I checked him sharply. There are limits, and we Woosters recognize them.
‘Gussie, are you suggesting that I prod Stiffy’s legs?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’m not going to.’
‘Why not?’
‘We need not delve into my reasons’, I said, stiffly. ‘Suffice it that the shot is not on the board.’
He gave me a look, a kind of wide-eyed, reproachful look, such as a dying newt might have given him, if he had forgotten to change its water regularly.
Unfortunately, Gussie proceeds with his plans. This prompts Madeline Bassett to scratch their engagement, thereby putting both Gussie and Bertie in a limbo.
Restraining Aunt Dahlia
Saying no to a loving aunt like Dahlia is no mean task. But Bertie is able to stand up to her machinations by placing a pitiless analysis of the situation at hand. Dahlia wants Bertie to pinch the cow-creamer from Pop Bassett’s silver collection. Thanks to the magic of ‘Eulalie’, the obstacle faced from Spode has been neutralized. However, Gussie’s note book with juicy comments about Pop Bassett and Spode continues to be in Stiffy’s possession.
This is how Bertie places his case before his aunt.
‘My dear old faulty reasoner, you miss the gist by a mile. As long as Stiffy retains that book, it cannot be shown to Madeline Bassett. And only by showing it to Madeline Bassett can Gussie prove to her that his motive in pinching Stiffy’s legs was not what she supposed. And only by proving to her that his motive was not what she supposed can he square himself and effect reconciliation. And only if he squares himself and effects reconciliation can I avoid the distasteful necessity of having to marry this bally Bassett myself. No, I repeat. Before doing anything else, I have got to have that book.’
Aunt Dahlia appreciates the logic and eventually ends up pinching the cow-creamer herself!
Reining in a Hippopotamus
By way of self-defense, Gussie Fink-Nottle has just hit Roderick Spode with an oil painting. Unfortunately, rather than using the picture sideways, Gussie has used the flat side of the weapon. This leaves Spode blinking, with the painting around his neck like a ruff. Bertie seizes the opportunity thus:
Give us a lead, make it quite clear to us that the party has warmed up and that from now on anything goes, and we Woosters do not hang back. There was a sheet lying on the bed…and to snatch this up and envelop Spode in it was with me the work of a moment.
Once the ‘Eulalie’ secret has been discovered, Bertie can afford to put Spode in his place firmly. When he finds Spode banging on the door of Gussie’s room, hoping to break his neck, Bertie loses no time in taming him. Note the polished manner in which he does it.
‘What do you mean by disturbing the house with this abominable uproar? Have you forgotten already what I told you about checking this disposition of yours to run amok like a raging hippopotamus? I should have thought that after what I said you would have spent the remainder of the evening curled up with a good book. But no. I find you renewing your efforts to assault and batter my friends. I must warn you, Spode, that my patience is not inexhaustible.’
Eventually, Spode disappears from the scene, leaving Gussie in the safe company of Bertie.
Putting a bite on Pop Bassett
Pop Bassett, having accused Bertie of stealing his cow-creamer and also pinching Constable Oates’ helmet, has had to eat humble pie. Bertie has a solid alibi as far as the cow-creamer is concerned. Jeeves has managed affairs in such a way as to persuade Spode to confess having stolen the helmet, thereby exonerating Bertie. However, when it comes to uniting two pairs of lovers, namely Madeline and Gussie and Stiffy and Stinker Pinker, Pop Bassett continues to play a spoil sport. But Jeeves has a solution – put a bite on him!
Accordingly, Bertie proceeds to threaten Pop Bassett thus:
‘There is something you wish to say to me, Mr Wooster?’
‘There are about a dozen of things I wish to say to you, Bassett, but the one we will touch on at the moment is this. Are you aware that your headstrong conduct in sticking police officers on to pinch me and locking me in my room has laid you open to an action for – what was it, Jeeves?’
‘Wrongful arrest and defamation of character before witnesses, sir.’
‘That’s the baby. I could soak you for millions. What are you going to do about it?’
Bertie then proceeds to get an OK on both the unions, makes Pop agree on keeping quiet upon discovering that the cow-creamer has popped up in Uncle Tom’s collection and even manages to secure his five quids back – the fine he had to pay in his formal encounter with Pop Bassett much earlier.
Jeeves and the Stiff Upper Lip
Bertie often runs counter to the tastes and wishes of Jeeves. However, when Jeeves has extricated him from a tricky situation, he has the good grace and flexibility to accept defeat and fall in line.
In ‘The Code of the Woosters’, the bone of contention is a Round-The-World cruise. Jeeves is rather keen on it. Bertie is not.
‘Jeeves,’ I said, ’this nuisance must now cease.’
‘Travel is highly educational, sir.’
‘I can’t do with any more education. I was full up years ago. No, Jeeves, I know what’s the matter with you. That old Viking strain of yours has come out again. You yearn for the tang of the salt breezes. You see yourself walking the deck in a yachting cap. Possibly someone has been telling you about the Dancing Girls of Bali. I understand, and I sympathize. But not for me. I refuse to be decanted into any blasted ocean-going liner and lugged off round the world.’
‘Very good, sir.’
However, by the end of the narrative, Totleigh Towers has ceased to disturb Bertie’s peace of mind. The love lives of Gussie-Madeline and Stinker Pinker-Stiffy are progressing smoothly. Uncle Tom has received his cow-creamer back. Anatole continues to be in service at Brinkley Court. Bertie has just escaped being bunged into a chokey without the option for a month. Constable Oates is still on duty, prowling about below the window of his room, braving violent rain.
All this is thanks to Jeeves’ ingenuity. When it comes to being pretty hot in an emergency, Bertie rates him higher than Napoleon. Bertie relents.
‘Perhaps that cruise won’t be so very foul, after all?’
‘Most gentlemen find them enjoyable, sir.’
‘Do they?’
‘Yes, sir. Seeing new faces.’
‘That’s true. I hadn’t thought of that. The faces will be new, won’t they? Thousands and thousands of people, but no Stiffy.’
‘Exactly, sir.’
‘You had better get the tickets tomorrow.’
‘I have already procured them, sir. Good night, sir.’
Many of us can learn the art of saying a ‘no’ from Bertie. He does so without causing an offence. He is firm and polite. He knows how to be assertive. He also knows when to give in and be flexible.
Moreover, he has a unique way of expressing his disagreement and registering a protest. He wins over the situation by using his analytical skills, building up and supporting his case using impeccable logic and pitiless analysis. When backed with a legally sound argument, he can even put a bite on someone like Pop Bassett to bring some sunshine into the lives of his pals, aunts and uncles!
(Part 2: Decodifying the Code of the Woosters)
(Related Post: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/bertie-wooster-and-the-art-of-breaking-bad-news-gently)
Posted in What ho!, tagged P G Wodehouse on October 24, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Here is an excellent piece putting the record straight in respect of P G Wodehouse’s often misunderstood actions during the last World War. In the minds and heart of his fans, he would always be remembered for the sunlit valleys and sparkling lakes of wisdom, humor and wit he has left behind for us to roam about in and explore to our heart’s content.
Bestsellers: Popular Fiction Since 1900 (2002) by Clive Bloom
In many respects, Clive Bloom’s ‘Bestsellers’ is an excellent book that I would recommend to anyone with an interest in the history of publishing, reading, and the emergence of ‘the bestseller’ in the twentieth century. Happily for me, Bloom also chooses some of my favourite authors (P.G. Wodehouse, George MacDonald Fraser, John Buchan, Agatha Christie) to illustrate his points.
Bloom tracks the development of ‘the bestseller’ alongside increasing literacy levels in Britain, showing how new literature classifications emerged (high-brow and low-brow) to keep class distinctions alive in literature (previously the lower classes had been illiterate). Bloom exposes ‘literary fiction’ as (arguably) little more than snobbery. ‘Serious literature, made purposefully unfathomable and dire, ensure that it remains the province of an expensively-educated elite. As Bloom says:
No use of literary language can claim, ab initio, an…
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