P.G. Wodehouse is A Wonder

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why we – especially those of us who want to write – should read often, and read the same books over and over again.

Firstly, because we’re generally thick and it takes a time or two or six to get things through our heads.

Secondly, because sometimes an author does something so subtle it takes several readings and several changes of state of mind to catch what’s going on.

Take this, for example, from P.G. Wodehouse’s Right Ho, Jeeves:

“So you think I’m going to strew prizes at this bally Dotheboys Hall of yours?” [asks Bertie Wooster of his Aunt Agatha after she’s asked him to present prizes at the school where she serves on the board of governors]

“I do.”

“And make a speech?”

“Exactly.”

I laughed derisively.

“For goodness’ sake, don’t start gargling now. This is serious.”

“I was laughing.”

“Oh, were you? Well, I’m glad to see you taking it in this merry spirit.”

“Derisively,” I explained. “I won’t do it. That’s final. I simply will not do it.”

Three things going on here, one of them very subtle, but the main point I want to make.

First, the not-so-subtle. There’s little attribution here – and that’s excellent. Putting the he-said she-said in would slow down the pace of this scene, and it’s clear enough already what’s going on. Additionally, rather than a said for Bertie’s last quote, we get an “explained.” Normally, I would say change that to said – but it helps set off the subtle third little bit.

First, Bertie laughs derisively. Yes, that’s an adverb. Mark Twain recommends killing them. But we see Wodehouse use the adverb twice – the second time in a quote. Wodehouse, I think, is having fun with a frowned-upon writers’ convention by having Bertie show his derisiveness by repeating the adverb.

Yeah, I know. Subtle. But a real knee-slapper for word nerds.

And now, this: (Not from any Wodehouse work, but certainly something fitting for the time and something that would have amused him as a writer if he’d thought of it.)

Character Play

It’s time to play every writer’s favorite game show, “Pretend to Know What the Writer Was Thinking.” Brought to you by Dave Barry Enterprises, where We Believe if You Regularly Come up with Idiot Interpretations of Novels, you Should Major in English.

Today’s subject: “My Man Jeeves,” by P.G. Wodehouse.

First, let me say I have nothing but respect for Wodehouse. I love his novels. His Jeeves and Wooster characters are among the funniest I’ve read.

But in reading My Man Jeeves, a collection of short stories in which Jeeves and Wooster play only a 50 percent part, it’s interesting to see how Wodehouse played with character and narrative to decide which were going to work the best for the stories he wanted to tell.

Winners: Jeeves and Wooster (Really, us, because we get to read Jeeves and Wooster).

Evidence: Reggie Pepper. Reggie Pepper is a character that plays the central role in about half the stories in My Man Jeeves. He is basically the Jeeves character: The smart schemer always ready with a plan to help fix the relationship or monetary foibles of the hapless, morose character who is in trouble at the moment.

These are the Jeeves and Wooster tales told from the point of view of Jeeves but without the gormless Wooster present.

The Reggie Pepper stories work to a point, but it’s clear in even the simplest of Jeeves and Wooster tales that it’s the character chemistry between the two that make the stories work as humorously as they do. Both the Reggie Pepper and Jeeves and Wooster stories have the smart chappie fixing the hapless’ problems (or sometimes fixing them, given the happenstance of unintended consequences and acting on incomplete information, hallmarks of the best Wodehouse stories) and the victim, but not the Wooster go-between. Reggie Pepper is both Jeeves and Wooster. And while those stories are amusing, they’re better told with two characters rather than just one.

Why do we need Wooster? Because Jeeves would never narrate one of his own stories. 

Self-effacement is a major portion of his character. The silent brain, you know. It’s out of character for Jeeves to be bot the doer and the teller. Wooster is the teller. Jeeves is the doer. And whoever is fortunate or unfortunate enough to wander into their path is what the doer acts on (with celerity and good grace) and what the teller tells (with sympathy, pathos, emotion and wise-acreing).

Conclusion: Am I right? I don’t know. But it feel right.

And now this: