What ho, I say! Sebastian Faulks has penned an homage to the English Country House master P.G. Wodehouse. During this time of Season 4 of Downton Abbey episodes, Jeeves and Wooster B. are more for my liking. Companion to the times, this is the lighter approach to all of those stiffback Gentlemen & Ladies.
As a devotee to the talent of P.G.W, or Plum, as those who find him enduring refer to him, I find that Faulks catches the tone just right, and neither presses on nor glances over the phrasings and plot twists essential to any good Plum novel.
For the most part, less inclined as I have been instructed to avoid grammatical passive sentence construction, it is all too fitting to cast the old caution to the wind and take up the turnéd phrase at ease. After all, it all makes sense after the fifth g & t has restored one’s cares to abandon and roams through the English Country house for a fun filled, and always complicated, romp with the upper crust and all of their quirky entanglements.
For the umpteeth time, a Wodehouse miscellany delivers the goods amongst the plot that one never wishes to fall away: boy infatuated with girl, girl infatuated with other boy, father’s estate way in over its head, and domineering aunts and dowagers is the formula that never fails in the PGW corner of the globe (in this book, all with this and a cricket match, too.) And if this is not enough, a full steady subtext stream from Wm. S. the Bard of A. Midsummer’s Night Dream certainly rounds out this excursion, oer that I hope Mr. Faulks will offer again. Wildly mad turns and subterfuges abound in a seemingly everyday manner, a manner which is only believable when you step outside of London for the Country excursion on a superb May morn.
Wodehouse fans should be pleased with Mr. Faulks addendum to Wodehousian lore; and for the newcomer, hopefully this tome will inspire the virgin to enter the rich, uncharted waters, which provide a world of flight and fancy (far from the madding crowd, indeed; indeed, also a far cry from stuffy Downton.)
Pip, pip until later. Tally-ho and the rest. (Now where has that darn Isis run off to?)