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Wodehouse In His Own Words

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Evelyn Waugh admired him, and his books were at the bedside of Eudora Welty. P. G. Wodehouse's enormous output of books can be found in castles and cottages, and have been translated into dozens of languages; the Russian versions are particularly adored. It is true that he doesn't appeal to everybody; I have run into many who think he just put out the same silly comedy with interchanging characters. They are completely wrong, but we can't argue about tastes. Barry Day and Tony Ring are two Wodehouse enthusiasts who had the bright idea of taking bits and pieces from Wodehouse's amusing letters, inserting parts of his work, and tying it all together with a very few notes as a small biography. Their book, _P. G. Wodehouse in His Own Words_ (Overlook) is a great success, but it must be said (and they would agree, I am sure) that its success derives from page after page of quotations from the master.

Woodhouse had a happy early life, and loved school. His public school values of fair play, loyalty, and honesty stuck to him all during his life, and may easily be found within his stories. A dip in his father's fortunes made college impossible, and he entered commerce for which he was completely unfit. He had trouble in the basics like getting to work on time. If his supervisor was as good at dry understatement as Wodehouse was, Wodehouse might have gotten the following warning, which comes from one of his books: "I must ask you in future to try and synchronise your arrival at the office with that of the rest of the staff. We aim as far as possible at the communal dead heat." What he did do with fervor was to write stories. It was tough in the beginning, as he took a while to acquire his tone now familiar. "I wrote nineteen short stories in three weeks, I just sent the stories out... (all of which, I regret to say, editors were compelled to decline owing to lack of space. The editors regretted it, too. They said so.)" But once he found his voice, magazines and book publishers in England and in the U.S. were enthusiastic. He crossed to the U.S., working in the theater and in Hollywood. After being imprisoned in Nazi Germany, he settled into working his last decades in America, writing constantly, and tending his dogs and cats. When he died in 1975, he was in the middle of a novel, and he was writing new lyrics for a musical _Kissing Time_ that he had written in 1918. And less than two months before, he had been given his knighthood.

Wodehouse was not Shakespeare. ("Shakespeare's stuff is different from mine, but that is not to say that it is inferior.") His plots can be clever, his characters unbelievable dolts (as is Bertie Wooster, but as is not the invaluable Jeeves), but his expressions guarantee a smile, and possibly a guffaw, on every page. "The Sergeant of Police... was calm, stolid and ponderous, giving the impression of being constructed of some form of suet." "I don't suppose he makes enough out of a novel to keep a midget in doughnuts for a week. Not a really healthy midget." "I've seen worse shows than this turned into hits. All it wants is a new book and lyrics and a different score." "I was in musical comedy. I used to sing in the chorus, till they found out where the noise was coming from." Day and Ring seem to have read every Wodehouse book with total recall to find comments on butlers, golf, America, clubs, and the clergy. Even displaced from his daffy plots and characters, the many quotations here provide spiffing entertainment, and will remind even the best of fans that it is always a good time to get reacquainted with Lord Emsworth, Gussie Fink-Nottle, Aunt Agatha, Psmith, the Mulliners, and all the rest of the balmy crew.

This splendid little tome, co-authored by Wodehouse fans Barry Day and Tony Ring (the latter of whom is President of the International Wodehouse Society) will tickle every rib of anyone who has ever mined the rich, seemingly bottomless vein of humor that is the work of Pelham Greenville "P.G." Wodehouse.

If it is true that the foundation of all comedy lies in truth, then Wodehouse was a master observer of the human race, every hue, stripe and rosette of it. This book brings together so many wonderul excerpts from various Wodehouse works (and he was prolific, authoring more than 90 books in his lifetime), that it has a place not only on the shelf of Sir W.'s fan's but also in the hands of those who have not yet discovered this enduring genius with an exquisite and masterful grasp of the English language.

The only downside to being a Wodehouse afficianado is that one must own a bookshelf just to house all of the books that are "musts" (and most of them are) ... small price to pay for a library that will keep you in the proverbial stitches, come what may.

This is a great addition to that library -- or a good reason to start one of your own.

Right ho!

"A splendid Wodehouse vade-mecum; no home should be without a copy. No hotel,tavern,or public accomodation,either. Perhaps the Gideons can be persuaded to branch out and include a copy of this estimable little volume with their other reading matter."

Roger Kimball
Managing Editor of The New Criterion

"A collection of quotations from the Master's letters,essays and fiction loosely connected by witty,fact-filled commentary by Barry Day,to form a concise,bried biography...This belongs on the same shelf with "Wodehouse Nuggets" and "The Wodehouse Companion" - except that you will want to keep it by your bedside or carry it around in your pocket. At the very least,"Wodehouse In His Own Words" will send you scurrying out for Plum's novels and short story collections."

- Michael Dirda
The Washington Post

This book is a great introduction for all new P.G. ("Plum") Wodehouse fans. It provides an easy to read, accessible biographical overview of Plum's life built mostly (say 90%) upon extracts from Plum's books, plays and letters. This means that whilst learning about Plum, you are actually reading Plum, so it kills two thingamajiggies with the one thingamajiggy, as Bertie would say.

So the whole damned idea behind this book is pretty damned good. And the two clever chaps who have put pen to paper here really seem to be know their onions, Plum onions. Besides the normal life history caper that most Plum beginners probably know, his English boarding school education, comic writing and that dashed nasty business of being captured by Jerry in World War II, Misters Day and Ring, dig into some less well known aspects. In particular his Broadway and Hollywood careers, rather than being a sideshow, these two adventures were old Plummy's bread and butter for give or take three decades, and if he hadn't also been something of a big shot in the old quilled pen and printing press department, Plum's career as a lyricist for musical comedy alone would have rocketed him up to the hallowed ranks of the fabulous famous flibbedyjibbets.

The book, and I read the hard cover version, published by the lads at "The Overlook Press", is not to be overlooked. It is a physically fine edition, a decent size, not so big you need your gentlemens' gentlemen to carry it for you, and not one of these flimsy five and dime jobs that self destruct after the first reading either. And did I say the fonts, paper quality and printing is a bang up job too? It even smells like a good book.

And another thing too. Poor old Plum always managed, or so it now seems to me after reading all about it in "In His Own Words", to put his foot firmly in his mouth (Bertie style) whenever he was cornered by one of those journalist johnnies into inquisition by interview. The painful story of how old Plum, recently released by the Jerries from internment ...they considered him too old to worry about, kind of like an undersized trout in a patrolled pond, ...but before moustache face, Tojo and Musso were hit for six by Winston, Ike and Uncle Joe, ...is well known. Essentially a Yankee news hound chap wanted Plum to tell the folks back home via wireless how things were in his enforced jerrie internment stay. Anyhow old Plum spun them a humorous yarn, Bertie Wooster stuff, but quite accurate about playing cricket with the other fish and catching up on his writing. Just what he thought his audience would want to hear. Unfortunately stiff upper lips back home in the Old Blightey were not, shall we say, amused, they wanted Luftstalag 17 stuff with Plum digging tunnels and all that. For a while at least our hero was sent to Coventry, without actually ever visiting Coventry. In fact Old Plummy was probably afraid that if he tried to visit Coventry he would have ended up in Dartmoor. Well if you chaps want to read about that Mr. 1984 himself, Georgie Orwell has written all you'd ever want to know about the whole sordid episode. Still Day and Ring shed extra light.

Well before I got so rudely interrupted by World War Two, I was telling you how Plum only opened his mouth in interviews to change feet. Well the same bother happened before WW2 when he was interviewed about his Hollywood career. Plum's humorous musings were received like a bally lead balloon by the puffins of Beverley Hills. He damned near had himself run out of town on a rail, at least blackballed from the club by members of the species studio tycoonicus. Anyhow as in all those Wooster books, alls well that ends well of course ...and, as in the damned embarassing business repeated just around closing time for WW number two, Plum did manage to get back into the everyone's good books in Hollywood after a brief enforced hiatus. And he did so just by being Plum. Anyhow it's a shame he didn't have Jeeves to look after him.