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Posts Tagged ‘P G Wodehouse’

Souffles and spades

All residents of Plumsville face a difficult choice. Does it make sense to view Plum’s narratives through the eyes of the heart? Or, should one use the mind instead and subject his brilliant works to a pitiless analysis?
Here is a thought-provoking post from Plumtopia which endeavours to address this dilemma.

Honoria Plum's avatarPlumtopia

‘You don’t analyse such sunlit perfection, you just bask in its warmth and splendor.’

Stephen Fry

Most Wodehouse readers will be familiar with this quotation, printed on thousands of new editions, and quoted ad nauseam by reviewers and fans alike. Unfortunately it is sometimes bandied about to support the argument that Wodehouse and his work ought not be discussed — that Mr Fry has spoken and we, mere readers, should restrict ourselves to spouting quotations (or better, dignified silence). As someone who blogs about Wodehouse, I naturally take a different view. Nor am I convinced that this is what Stephen Fry meant.

The quotation comes from Fry’s introduction to What Ho! The best of P.G. Wodehouse (republished in The Independent). Fry suggests the ‘miraculous verbal felicities’ of Wodehouse’s writing are best experienced by reading his work. No attempt to explain or analyse the mechanics of Wodehouse’s prose style…

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Often, we hear that age is a mere number,
But also wonder if it makes us dumb and dumber;
Unless proper and timely steps are taken through channels right,
The chances of our becoming dull happen to be bright.

 

The body needs all the care and affection it can get,
The mind needs to be kept active, not to forget;
The soul needs nourishment of a different kind,
Otherwise it is left in torment and in a bind.

 

The zeal of youth makes us leap light-heartedly into traps,
The spirit of adventure keeps us wandering off the known maps;
Romantics at heart, fragile in maturity, we jump at gold coins with strings attached,
We behave like zombies, often getting disappointed over chickens un-hatched.

 ZOMBIES

When advanced in age, our optimism fades, no longer making the spirits lift,
A feeling grows that our guardian angels no longer care to bear a gift;
Our triumphs are many, but all sound mellowed and get under-rated,
The aged machinery creaks, a depression often seeps in unabated.

 

Each day, we shudder to look at a stranger in the mirror,
With brittle bones, fuzzy brains and a heart which is all of a twitter;
Different organs protest, the lining of the stomach seeks our regular attention,
Willing to try any system of medicine, keeping fit being the mere intention.

 

The mellow wisdom of advancing age we often forget to treat as an asset,
Giving back to society and relishing an inner glow before we walk into the sunset;
Doing what we always dreamed of doing does bring in a wholesome joy,
Listening to the body, nourishing it with a healthy diet, is the right ploy.

 

The world is still waiting with open arms, to be explored by us,
Glorious sunsets, resplendent seashores and deep gorges beckon us;
Sunshine eager to bathe us, gentle breeze to caress our wrinkled face,
River rapids and waterfalls aspire to spray us with natural grace.

 VACATIONS

Sleeping under the canopy of a star-studded sky on quiet nights,
The moon showering us with its soft azure rays with full might;
The sweet fragrance of flowers missed on the tortuous highway of life,
Await our attention in a lovely phase with minimum strife.

 

Time to take it easy and have a circle of friends around,
A tissue restorative on one side, a Plum book on the other, and our joy is unbound;
Soaking in the strains of soothing music and catching up on a classic movie,
An outpouring of creative juices, some light exercise, and life is groovy.

 

Basking in the inner glow of satisfaction, enjoying a deep sense of fulfillment,
For having crossed major landmarks of our lives on this firmament;
Oh, the freedom of soaring at will, free of the sap of life’s intricate bee-hives,
Pursuing our hobbies and passions dreamed of all through our lives.

 

Wondering if we can leave behind some marks on the shifting sands of time,
Motivating the coming generations to aspire beyond a penny and a dime;
Living the values, ethics, norms and beliefs we expect them to follow,
Always feeling positive, never believing that we lived our lives hollow.

 

(Related posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/01/12/6-things-to-do-before-you-turn-60

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2016/01/10/ode-to-old-age)

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Ode to a shiner..

Here is a composition by Ms. Sukanya Lakshmi Narayan, an ardent fan of P G Wodehouse. It is based on a true incident, which she has beautifully captured in a typical Wodehousian manner. A fitting tribute, indeed.

PGWodehouse

Our friend, a thorough and jolly gentleman
On Wodehousian principles his life ran,
Raised by overbearing aunts and grandmas
A La Dahlias and Agathas
Even though nary a one was a gentleman.

The devoted son sent his mother
To the park with the nurse and chauffeur
The nurse got drunk
The chauffeur did the bunk
And the nurse socked the master a shiner.

The sinister saga didn’t end there
There was more mystery and dare
To cut a long story short
The master decided to take a shot
And investigate the matter threadbare.

The hunt began for the missing driver
Anyone and everyone was promised a fiver
He was finally found
After much searching around
Crouching in the garage of a neighbour.

It was like a sneaky midnight raid
He was found to be neither sober nor staid
Hulk he was, and mighty
He was tried and found guilty
Of two timing the mother-in-law’s maid.

One gave him a multi-hued shiner
Another back stabbed like a dagger
Oh Plum! See me through
Only you can, only you
Restore my faith in mankind via laughter.

(Thank you, Sukanya, for permitting me to publish this limerick.)

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We live in times when the only feline creatures we happen to know are from the realm of cat-toons. We knowPGW Doraemon Doraemon, Felix, Garfield, Tom and Top Cat, to name just a few. Their eccentricities we adore. Their haughtiness we endure. Their ingenuity makes our spirits soar. Their ruthless manner in handling mice of all kinds we ignore. To put it simply, in a world dominated by TV and internet, they have become a part of folklore.

Now, one does not mean to offend any of these personalities whose intrinsic felineness is rather unmistakable. But there are several others from the realm of literature who are no less admirable. They were born in times when the printed word was ruling the roost. They have left an indelible impression on the minds and psyches of several generations. They have exemplified the traits of bosses and the bossed-over alike. Surely, once in a while, they also deserve to be remembered, honored and feted for having shaped the mindset of humanity.

Take the case of Plumsville. The feline creatures we meet here have sterling qualities of head and heart. Almost all of them wish their privacy to be respected. Some are outright lazy and must have theirPGW Garfieldand_friends twenty-three hours of beauty sleep. Some love being tickled beneath the ears before extending a paw of friendship. Others would go to any lengths to ensure that they get their daily dose of vitamins.

Some of them believe in the power of collective bargaining. They tend to assemble under the bed of an eligible bachelor and end up ensuring that his betrothal to a female lion tamer gets scratched. Some exercise great influence over horses, making them win or lose races for their masters.

For those of us who wish to shake a friendly paw with them, here is a quick recap.

The Burden of Snootiness

All feline creatures find it difficult to forget that in some ancient civilizations, they were revered as gods.

Cats, as a class, have never completely got over the snootiness caused by the fact that in Ancient Egypt they were worshipped as gods.PGW Tom and Jerry

(The Story of Webster, Mulliner Nights)

One can readily understand the burden of snootiness they carry on their slender shoulders. Perhaps, this also explains the high-handed behavior they exhibit when dealing with humans.

When a Fish wants an Apology

Fans of Bertie Wooster shall forever remain in debt of the bunch of twenty-three cats found underneath his bed. Thanks to this bunch, Bertie could avoid the dreaded prospect of a saunter down the aisle with Honoria Glossop. (The Inimitable Jeeves)

I was about fed up with the whole thing. I mean, cats in your bedroom—a bit thick, what? I didn’t know how the dickens they had got in, but I was jolly well resolved that they weren’t going to stay picknicking there any longer. I flung open the door. I got a momentary flash of about a hundred and fifteen cats of all sizes and colours scrapping in the middle of the room, and then they all shot past me with a rush and out of the front door: and all that was left of the mob-scene was the head of a whacking big fish, lying on the carpet and staring up at me in a rather austere sort of way, as if it wanted a written explanation and apology.

Elsewhere, Pop Glossop appears in a dialogue of this nature:PGW Inimitable_jeeves

‘No, she’s got a lunch date. She’s browsing with Sir Roderick Glossop, the loony-doctor. You don’t know him, do you?’

‘Only from hearing you speak of him. A tough egg, I gather.’

‘One of the toughest.’

‘He was the chap, wasn’t he, who found the twenty-four cats in your bedroom?’

‘Twenty-three,’ I corrected. I like to get things right. ‘They were not my cats. They had been deposited there by my Cousins Claude and Eustace. But I found them difficult to explain. He’s a rather bad listener. I hope I shan’t find him at Brinkley, too.’

Suffering from Traumatic Symplegia

In Jeeves in the Offing, we get introduced to the inimitable Augustus. When it comes to a choice between hunting mice and catching up on his sleep, his priorities are very clear.

‘I thought as much, or you would be aware that Augustus is a broken reed to lean on in the matter of catching mice. My own acquaintance with him is a longstanding one, and I have come to know his psychology from soup to nuts. He hasn’t caught a mouse since he was a slip of a kitten. Except when eating, he does nothing but sleep. Lethargic is the word that springs to the lips. If you cast an eye on him, you will see that he’s asleep now.’

‘Coo! So he is.’

‘It’s a sort of disease. There’s a scientific name for it. Trau-something. Traumatic symplegia, that’s it. This cat has traumatic symplegia. In other words, putting it in simple language adapted to the lay mind, where other cats are content to get their eight hours, Augustus wants his twenty-four. If you will be ruled by me, you will abandon the whole project and take him back to the kitchen. You’re simply wasting your time here.’

My eloquence was not without its effect. She said ‘Coo!’ again, picked up the cat, who muttered something drowsily which I couldn’t follow, and went out, leaving me to carry on.PGW JeevesInTheOffing

Then we have the scene depicting an encounter between Augustus and Poppet which gets played out by the side of a lake. The Rev. Aubrey Upjohn, his step-daughter Phyllis, Bobbie Wickham, Wilbert Cream, Kipper and Bertie Wooster have gathered there. As per plans, Bertie is to shove Upjohn into the water, followed by Kipper diving in and saving him. This, it is hoped, would improve the chances of Kipper persuading Upjohn to withdraw the libel case he is planning in connection with a derogatory review Kipper has written of an article of his.

At the moment when Augustus touched ground and curling himself into a ball fell into a light doze, Poppet had completed his tenth lap and was preparing to start on his eleventh. Seeing Augustus, he halted in mid-stride, smiled broadly, turned his ears inside-out, stuck his tail straight up at right angles to the parent body and bounded forward, barking merrily.

I could have told the silly ass his attitude was all wrong. Roused abruptly from slumber, the most easygoing cat is apt to wake up cross. Already Augustus had had much to endure from Phyllis, who had doubtless jerked him out of dreamland when scooping him up in the garden, and all this noise and heartiness breaking out just as he dropped off again put the lid on his sullen mood.

He spat peevishly, there was a sharp yelp, and something long and brown came shooting between my legs, precipitating itself and me into the depths. The waters closed about me, and for an instant I knew no more.

The Object of a high-bred Horse’s Affections

In Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen, we run into a feline creature which exercises great influence on Potato Chip, a race horse.PGW AuntsArentGentlemen

To recover from pink spots, Bertie goes to Maiden Eggesford in Somerset, with its two leading men, Jimmy Briscoe and Pop Cook, their respective horses, Simla and Potato Chip, and their dark rivalry. Aunt Dahlia, a friend of Jimmy Briscoe, has bet on Simla only to find that it isn’t a cinch. Bertie is annoyed to see old enemy Major Plank (previously met in Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves) in residence with Vanessa Cook and her Pop Cook. The latter takes an instant dislike to Bertie when he is found tickling a passing cat which is a favorite of his horse Potato Chip.

Highly bred horses like Potato Chip often develop a strong affection for either a goat or a sheep. In this narrative, the object of his affections is a cat which sleeps in his stall and is there to meet him when he returns from his daily exercise. In the cat’s absence, Potato Chip becomes listless and even refuses any nourishment offered.

We do not get to learn the cat’s name, but Bertie describes his first encounter as follows:

It was a cat of rather individual appearance, being black in its general color scheme but with splashes of white about the ribs and also on the tip of its nose. I chirruped and twiddled my fingers, as is my custom on these occasions, and it advanced with its tail up and rubbed its nose against my leg in a manner that indicated clearly that in Bertram Wooster it was convinced that it had found a kindred soul and one of the boys.

I scratched this one behind the ear, and it received the attention with obvious gratification, purring like the rumble of distant thunder.

Things get muddy when Aunt Dahlia gets a neighborhood poacher to steal the cat in the hope to impede its horse friend, embroiling Bertie in the to-do.

As always, Jeeves rises to the occasion. Thanks to him, Bertie avoids getting married to Vanessa Cook. He also avoids getting into the bad books of Aunt Dahlia.

Tabby Terror

Ever met a cat who has a black heart hidden by a sleek coat of tabby fur? We would consider stroking one such cat a luxury, little knowing that its shapely head hides a scheming brain. Moreover, like other members of its species, this cat has a conscience as well.

The struggle between Prater’s cat and Prater’s cat’s conscience was short, and ended in the hollowest of victories for the former. The conscience really had no sort of chance from the beginning.

When a can of sardines is found empty on the premises, investigations of a Sherlock-Watson nature are undertaken. Considering the harsh reality that the alleged culprit troops in without knocking, different ways to get rid of the feline menace get deliberated upon.PGWodehouse

At tea on the following evening the first really serious engagement of the campaign took place. The cat strolled into the team room in the patronising way characteristic of his kind, but was heavily shelled with lump sugar, and beat a rapid retreat… From that moment its paw was against every man, and the tale of the things it stole is too terrible to relate in detail. Like Death in the poem, it knocked at the doors of the highest and the lowest alike. Or rather, it did not exactly knock. It came in without knocking.

In the hands of P G Wodehouse, animals display not only their intrinsic traits. They also acquire characteristics which set them apart from the rest of the crowd. Pigs charm us by their majestic manner. Dogs regale us with their propensity to bite the rozzers who disrupt the normal flow of our carefree lives.

Cats also get etched out with the attention to detail they deserve. They acquire personable traits. Pointy ears, whiskers, round eyes and a propensity to meow could, after all, also describe a person. But in Plumsville, cats evolve into real characters with a distinctive personality of their own, often surpassing human beings in more ways than one.

A real cat scene, so to say!

[Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/08/26/delightful-characters-of-the-canine-kind-in-plumsville, https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/06/17/seven-traits-that-bosses-share-with-cats%5D

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PGWodehouse

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.

Wodehouse: The Wizard Of Words

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Yet another New Year has dawned. It is time for me to exercise my tiny grey cells and fulfill my obligations to societyExercise 1 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. AExercise 2 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 humanityExercise 3 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

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Reiterating a homage to Plum this Christmas!

ashokbhatia's avatarashokbhatia

photo(5)

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…

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I extended my hand from under the blanket, and rang the bell for Jeeves. Promptly, he shimmered in, with one of hisPGW HughLaurie-BertieWooster pick-me-ups on a silver salver.

‘Good evening, Jeeves.’

‘Good morning, sir.’

‘Is it morning?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘But it seems pretty gloomy and dark outside,’ I said.

‘Winter is already upon us, sir. In the depth of winter, we learn that within us lies an invincible summer, sir.’

‘Shakespeare, Jeeves?’

‘Albert Camus, sir.’

I sipped the tissue restorative in a mood of quiet repose.

‘Well, what goes on in the great world?’

‘There are several messages for you on WhatsApp, sir. On Facebook, you have messages from Mr. Gussie Fink-Nottle, Ms. Florence Craye and Ms. Stiffy Byng. Aunt Dahlia wants to chat with you over Skype. A blogger oninternet image 1 WordPress desires to have an audience with you. On LinkedIn, Sir Watkyn Bassett wishes to connect with you. Several tweets await your attention. Also, there are some other items which might interest you on Reddit, Digg and Pinterest, sir.’

I shuddered at the prospect of having to brave the world at such an early hour.

‘Jeeves, I have somehow come to despise this extra dose of, what do you call it, something sounding like gravity?’

‘Perhaps you allude to the term connectivity, sir?’

‘Absolutely. Both have the same pull for all of us these days. You know, this intricate world-wide-web we have woven around ourselves? The world was such a quieter place when this was not there. To avoid aunts, all one had to do was to sprint across the Atlantic. Now, one gets chased all over the planet. Civilization’s foundations are quivering. Something ought to be done about it.’

‘But you may wish to consider that it has also made life much simpler, sir.’

‘Faugh! Earlier, I could saunter across to the telephone in the hall in my bath robe and mauve pajamas to hobnobSkype_logo with the aged relative. Now, I have to worry about the dark circles below my eyes and the dress I am wearing before saying tally-ho to her over Skype.’

‘This does present some challenges, sir.’

‘And how could anything be called Twitter? I thought only birds indulge in that pastime. Don’t we have any birds’ Twitter_bird_logoassociations? Would one of those not like to raise the issue of a serious infringement of birds’ intellectual rights?’

‘I believe the contingency is a remote one, sir.’

‘Consider Google. It has too much of information, making it difficult to chug along in life. One, it is no longer easy to pinch umbrellas. Those carrying umbrellas on their shopping sprees often keep a tab on my location and do the vanishing act whenever I happen to be in the vicinity. Two, it has reduced whatever little thinking I was earlier able to do on my own. I once told Stiffy Byng how I was much superior to Gussie Fink-Nottle when it came to being pumpkin-headed. Now, thanksGoogle_2013 to Google, I am no longer too sure.’

‘You feel, sir, that you have become mentally more negligible?’

‘Yes. I also shiver at the prospect of a Big Brother prying into my searches and building up an intimate profile of what I like and what I don’t. What has happened to the civilized norms of privacy?’

‘We have to take the good with the bad, sir.’

‘Then think of Facebook. It is high time someone like Roderick Spode spoke to Mark Zuckerberg. He might take a dictator who designs women’s underclothing on the side more seriously. How can one place all one’s friends on the same level of intimacy? Are we not entitled to have few who are really close and intimate, some others who are useful in some way or the other, and all the others who are mere acquaintances?’

‘There is some merit in what you say, sir.’

‘Of course. And why is everyone posting only about the good and positive things happening to them? Do you think I mind posting the number of times I have been nicked for fines or have been jugged into a chokey for thirty days without the option?’

‘Your openness on social media deserves to be heartily applauded, sir. It might interest you to know that some people have formed SPIN – a Society for Prevention of Narcissism on Internet. They wish to see you in person, ostensibly to request you to accept to be the President of the outfit.’Facebook

‘Right, ho. That is how I have preserved my bachelorhood status all these years. After all, who would risk having me as a son-in-law or a nephew? Is that not the reason Justices of the Peace wish to connect with me? They just wish to keep a tab on what I am up to, possibly forewarning police constables in my vicinity to strap their helmets a wee bit tighter.’

‘That is being clever indeed, sir.’

‘‘Yes. Consider all the delicately nurtured ones who shiver at the prospect of taking a saunter down the aisle with me. Still, I have a long list of those wanting to befriend me over Facebook. I wonder why they wish to connect with me. The mind boggles.’

‘Perhaps to capitalize on your generosity, sir? Several times in the past, you have assisted young ladies in getting affianced to the real love of their hearts. You had done so, if you may recall, by first declaring your intentions of marrying the young women yourself. This had left their guardians all-of-a-twitter, much relieved to eventually allow an alliance with the true heart-throb instead.’

‘I am sure my record in such acts of chivalry is beyond reproach. What I resent is the commercialization of all our relationships. Look at LinkedIn. One would like to have a large circle of influence. But to what avail? We end up LinkedIn_Logonetworking only with those who could be used by us to further our own career interests. What we need instead is a platform where we can connect only with those we admire for their sterling qualities of head and heart.’

‘Well said, sir, but you would readily appreciate the difficulties involved. Perhaps there could be better ways to filter out only those who love and admire one and one’s work.’

‘Jeeves, I do think I have one such idea!’

‘Indeed, sir?’

‘I think I should start a blog of my own.’

His left eyebrow went up a quarter of an inch. I braced myself with the old Wooster grit. I persisted.

‘The more I publish my own escapades and my several acts of mercy, the quieter my life would be! In fact, the journal at the Junior Ganymede Club – could that not be serialized to great effect?’WordPress_logo

‘The rules of the club are rather strict, sir.’

I bridled at him.

‘Jeeevs, if you could get the Eulalie stuff on Roderick Spode once, surely this would not be difficult?’

‘I fear, sir-.’

‘OK, I know what you are going to say next,’ said I, waving an imperial hand. ‘Don’t you think having a blog of one’s own helps? Would you know how one starts and develops a blog?’

‘Sir, having had the privilege of assisting an avid blogger earlier, I can say that it is hard work, indeed.’

‘I don’t believe this. Blogging would be like a song and a lark. That is what Bingo Little told me last night at thePinterest_Logo Drones. His wife’s popularity has gone up since she became an active blogger. You just bang on the keyboard whatever you happen to be thinking of at the time. You hit the ‘publish’ button. That is all there is to it.’

‘One also needs to do so regularly, sir. To do this, one has to learn to read with great fervor. One has to keep the interest of the readers in mind. One has to edit a piece thoroughly before deciding to publish it.’

‘Reading? You mean some juicy stuff others keep writing?’

‘Wisdom would dictate that writers of the stature of Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Spindrift and Spinoza could provide regular inspiration, sir.’

‘What? One has to read such blokes just to be able to blog?’

‘A course you would be well advised to pursue, sir.’

‘But that would be tough on the nerves, Jeeves. I remember when Florence had expected me to read some stuff on Reddit_logoTypes of Ethical Theory or whatever. Is there any other procedure one is supposed to follow?’

‘Yes, sir. You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. The latter implies that there are no free lunches. Blogging is work, with uncertain rewards. And courtesy demands that one promptly replies to all comments coming in, howsoever impolite these might be.’

‘Oh, that does not sound very simple, does it? It would consume a lot of my time, I guess.’

‘Indeed, sir. Blogging needs dedication. It also strains the cerebellum to some extent.’

‘Is there any other requirement?’

‘The place where you write must be one of solitude. It would be advisable to hire a secluded hamlet far away from the temptations of a city life, sir.’

‘Oh, but then we should have no boy scouts prowling around on their acts of mercy in the vicinity, cleaning chimneys and burning cottages.’

‘Yes, sir. One has to minimize the probability of such an occurrence. Allow me also to point out that availability ofMona Lisa connectivity would be a sine qua non.’

‘That would be a disaster. I was not aware that you need to depend on internet to be able to blog. So, if I were to take up blogging, I would end up feeling like someone on whose head all the sorrows of the world had descended. Who was it you had once mentioned, Jeeves?’

‘Perhaps, you allude to the Mona Lisa, sir.’

‘Well, if she calls up now, tell her that I do know just how she feels when confronted with the harsh slings and arrows of life.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘By the way, Jeeves, what are all these applications I keep hearing of these days? What do people keep applying for?’

‘If I have understood the query correctly, sir, you perhaps refer to some programs specifically developed for smart phones, sir.’

‘And what do these do?’

‘These are used for simplifying some mundane tasks of life, sir. First, we had WhatsApp. Then we had Line and HikeWhatsApp_logo apps. Now, we have Viber which is catching the fancy of the people. I believe there are about 1.3 million Android apps and Apple’s app store hosts 1.2 million of the things. By comparison, Windows has only around 300,000, Amazon 240,000 and Blackberry 130,000 or so, sir. ’

‘The mind boggles, what? But is this not a delightful affirmation of human ingenuity and creativity, Jeeves?’

‘True, sir. But the reality is that while there are indeed some creative programmers producing elegant, witty or ingenious apps, there are also some misleading programs which entrap one for an uncalled for burden on one’s wallet.’

‘Oh, a prospect better avoided, then?’

‘Depends on how one looks at it, sir. Let us say, you wish to replace your Alpine hat with a more suave version. UsingViber-logo some applications on your cell phone, you can sell as well as buy.’

‘But I do not wish to replace my Alpine hat, Jeeves.’

‘Sir, I just sold it using one of the apps on your cell.’

‘What? These smart phones are making me even more dumb. Let us get rid of it right away.’

‘As you say, sir.’

‘Yes. I am just getting fed up with this continuous slavery of today’s technology. All day long, messages keep beeping, giving one no respite. Is there no place left on earth where one could get some rest and repose? What about that World Cruise we were discussing sometime back? Do ships have internet, Jeeves?’PGWodehouse

‘Not necessarily, sir.’

‘So why don’t you book us on a voyage to Antarctica or some such place where one can really live life to the fullest, devoid of all e-distractions and boy scouts? You had better get the tickets tomorrow.’

‘I have already procured them, sir. Before we proceed on our voyage, may I suggest your meeting the representative of SPIN – the Society for Prevention of Internet Narcissism, sir?’

‘Sure! Jeeves, you stand alone.’

‘I merely endeavor to provide satisfaction, sir.’

(Note from Jeeves: Those of you who have enjoyed this line of thought may like to check out https://www.facebook.com/SocPrevInN)

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https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2016/09/23/bertie-jeeves-and-the-internet-of-things

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/08/04/mirror-mirror-on-the-wall-who-is-the-smartest-of-them-all; https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/01/23/why-become-a-slave-to-technology)

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Most of us love Bertram Wilberforce ‘Bertie’ Wooster. Unlike some goofy female characters who would not mind taking ‘a whack at the Wooster millions’, we do not love him for his money. We love him for his self-less attitude and simplicity.CodeOfTheWoosters

Some of us pity him for being ‘mentally negligible’. His tendency to keep getting into one soup or the other often makes us feel superior to him. Whenever he gets stuck, Jeeves rallies around. He keeps pulling him and his pals out of the kind of predicaments they keep facing from time to time. If ever Bertie’s pride gets hurt and he decides to untangle an issue all by himself, disaster lurks around the corner.

All through, Bertie’s actions are governed by The Code of the Woosters which is essentially about never letting a pal down. However, I do believe that there are several finer shades to it. Each facet of the Code of the Woosters represents a set of values, which are as relevant today as they were when originally penned by Plum, a Master Wordsmith of our times.

The Wooster Code De-codified

As we have seen from the series of earlier posts, aimed at decoding the Code of the Woosters, following features stand out.

1. Never let a Pal down
The Goofiness Index of any scheme may be high, but if it results into bringing the sunshine back into the life of a pal, give it a good shove. If blackmail is necessary, so be it. Never bother about your own discomfort or image in society. Always live and behave like a boy scout, out on an errand of mercy. If two loopy characters happen to be affianced, be concerned. Subject their union to a pitiless analysis, especially with reference to their progeny.

Support your colleagues when they happen to run into trouble.

2. Stand up for the Wooster ClanCode of the Woosters Cover 6
Respect the feudal spirit. Be prepared to make sacrifices, wherever and whenever necessary. Health and happiness of a beloved relation is far more important than even a thirty-day stint in the prison without an option. Stand up to blackmail by retired magistrates. Pay them back in their own coin by subjecting them to a bite, if possible.

Cultivate and respect a sense of loyalty.

3. Be a Preux Chevalier
Never say no to a proposal from one of the delicately nurtured, howsoever padded the person might be from the top of the head to the tips of her toes. When it comes to carrying out a goofy scheme dished out by the opposite sex, be flexible. Never ever bandy about the name of a woman. When she gives a build-up to the man in her life, never tell her upfront that she lies.

Be respectful to your colleagues; never take undue advantage.

4. Have a bulldog spirit
Walk with your chin up, your eyes sparkling and with both feet on the ground. Be positive. Never repine, never despair, never allow the upper lip to unstiffen. Always remember that, no matter how dark the skies may be, the sun is shining somewhere and will eventually come smiling through.

Be positive, even if a deadline sounds impossible.

5. Be humane; Noblesse Oblige
Consider the psychology of the individual. Be considerate when breaking a bad news to a person, whether a friend or an adversary.Code of the Woosters Cover 3

Before you hand over the pink slip, counsel the person over a cup of coffee. Take responsibility, authority will follow.

6. Stick to rules
Howsoever goofy the act, always follow proper procedures.

Expected to do some hanky-panky? Build a safety net and a cushion for yourself first.

7. Be aware of your Pumpkin Quotient
Knowing your own weaknesses helps. Navigating through the choppy waters of life becomes easier.

Guide those who rank higher; be guided by those who rank lower.

8. Refuse to be a doormat
When necessary, assert yourself. Restrain erring friends and relatives. Put across an objective analysis of your viewpoint. Reason it out.

Learn to say a polite ‘no’.

9. Always meet the Boss half way through
In order to continue to enjoy Anatole’s delicious spreads, never antagonize Aunt Dahlia. When you find stealing a cow-creamer to be an impossible task, analyze the situation carefully. Always keep her informed without any delay.

Get back to the boss before she/he starts twiddling her/his thumbs trying to figure out what is happening.

10. Taming a Hippopotamus by Teamwork
When life pits you against someone like Roderick Spode, a Dictator who heads a Fascist organization like Black Shorts and who designs women’s underclothing on the sly, how do you check his enthusiasm to beat yourselves and your pals to pulp? Think of some nifty team work. Someone like Aunt Dahlia can think of finding a secret against him. Someone resourceful like Jeeves can unearth the secret and you can use it to chilling effect.

You can’t do everything yourself. Use teamwork.

Possible Origins of the Code

What could have been the possible sources of the values that the Code of the Woosters covers?Code of the Woosters Cover 4

Values come to us from our ancestors, handed down from generation to generation. The way our folks conduct themselves at home defines our own value systems. Teachers and friends play an important role in our formative years.

The Woosters are said to have come over from France with William the Conqueror and were extremely pally with him. Some members of the family apparently fought at Agincourt and others did their bit in the Crusades. The origin of the Woosters’ fine sense of noblesse oblige and their strong feudal spirit can be traced to their fine pedigree.

Magdalen College, Oxford

Magdalen College, Oxford

Woosters’ manners are impeccable. Their conduct is above reproach. Even if one of their heirs decides to indulge in such misdemeanors as pinching a policeman’s helmet, a proper procedure is invariably followed. The sentiment to never let a pal down is ingrained in Bertie’s DNA.

Bertie is believed to be an orphan who inherited a large fortune upon the death of his parents. Vacations with aunts and uncles would have shaped his flawless character. The style of living at stately homes and castles would have imparted to him good values, extreme politeness and decent manners.

Bertie’s desire to be a preux chevalier perhaps owes its origin not only to his ancestors but also to the fine schooling he has had. His memoirs often capture his escapades at Malvern House Preparatory School, Eton and Magdalen College at Oxford. Incidentally, all of these happen to be single-sex all-male institutions. This can perhaps explain the presence of an undercurrent of the old-boys-club-feel across all his memoirs.

A Jaundiced View of Life

Many of us bemoan the present ills of our society. Treatment of women continues to be a cause for serious concern. Friendships have become a means to ensure that we have the right contacts in the right places. There is little place in our lives for selfless relationships. Only relationships which enhance our economic and social status survive the onslaught of time. Many of us survive and grow in the corporate jungles we operate in by being Yes-men. We have forgotten how to either register a protest or say a ‘no’.

When it comes to standing up for our families, we suffer from selective amnesia. The definition of ‘family’ itself has got constricted. We take pride in breaking rules. In the relentless pursuit of economic gains, our Boy Scout spirit has faded away. When we see a person facing a traumatic situation, many of us do not care to stop by, enquire and provide a healing touch.Code of the Woosters Cover 1

When a juicy target pops up, we have a tendency to rush towards it without making a realistic assessment of our own capabilities. We fail to enthuse and take along team members we despise for personal and subjective reasons. We do not pay attention to their psychology or what makes them tick. Often, loyalty to the companies we work for gets determined only by the material gains it offers. An inner sense of peace and satisfaction is ignored.

Interpersonal relationships often pose a challenge. Some of us live our lives as if the burden of the whole universe is upon our frail shoulders. We forget to smile. We forget to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. We no longer have a positive outlook.

Our profession does not matter. Our location does not matter. Our technical knowledge does not matter. Our skills do not matter. Instead, what matters is our having the right attitude.

Of Hippopotami and White Hunters

All this brings home the everlasting relevance of the Code of the Woosters. If followed rigorously, it has the potential to effectively counter many of the challenges being faced by us at present. Many a problem can be made to wilt and retreat, much like a young and nervous hippopotamus coming face to face with its first White Hunter.

Let us resolve to be White Hunters, armed with rifles carrying the bullets of the C of the W.

Time to recall our bulldog spirit, walk with our chins up, our eyes sparkling and with both feet firmly on the ground. Not to repine. Not to despair. Not allowing our upper lips to unstiffen.

Pip, pip!

(Concluding Part of the Series on The Code of the Woosters)

[Related Posts:

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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/2014/11/09/bertie-never-lets-a-pal-down%5D

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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.Code of the Woosters Cover 5

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

Sidney Carton confessing his feelings to Lucie Manette

Sidney Carton confessing his feelings to Lucie Manette

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)

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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

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