There is something about Jeeves and Wooster that always makes me want to talk like them. Bertie, especially. What ho. Pip pip and all that. I think I did this a bit backward, though. On somebody-or-other’s recommendation a while back, we put Fry and Laurie’s Jeeves and Wooster series on our Netflix queue (that was complicated) and loved it. Well, they did this book over two episodes, pretty much word-for-word (or at least scene-for-chapter). And while it didn’t ruin the book for me (they did an excellent job), it did take… something… away from the reading experience.

For those who haven’t seen the episodes, or read Wodehouse, or even don’t know what the heck I’m talking about…. Bertie Wooster has friends that are in trouble. Specifically, this time, Gussie Fink-Nottle (Wodehouse is brilliant with names). Gussie’s in love with Madeline Bassett and can’t bring himself to propose to her. So, Bertie hatches a plan (which involves sending Gussie to Bertie’s Aunt Dahlia’s house) to get them together. Meanwhile, Bertie’s friend Tuppy Glossop (another great name!) has had his engagement with Angela (who happens to be Bertie’s cousin) broken off over a spat about a shark (don’t ask; too long to explain). Bertie, again, comes up with a plan to save their relationship. After much hilarity, everything (of course) goes awry, and finally Jeeves steps in, makes a bit of a fool out of Bertie, saving the day for everyone.

Confusing? But the plot isn’t the point. I’m sure you could also read some sort of social critique of the idleness of the upper class. For heavens sake, Bertie — nor any of his friends — doesn’t DO anything. Perhaps Wodehouse was trying to say something about this idleness, especially making the servant the useful, brilliant one. It reminds me of this exchange from The Importance of Being Earnest:

Lady Bracknell. I feel bound to tell you that you are not down on my list of eligible young men, although I have the same list as the dear Duchess of Bolton has. We work together, in fact. However, I am quite ready to enter your name, should your answers be what a really affectionate mother requires. Do you smoke?

Jack. Well, yes, I must admit I smoke.

Lady Bracknell. I am glad to hear it. A man should always have an occupation of some kind. There are far too many idle men in London as it is.

Same principle. But as I was saying, that’s not the point either. The point is comedy. It’s silly. It’s slapstick. It’s the complete insanity of it all. Jeeves is the ultimate straight man, always the foil for Bertie’s goofiness. And Bertie is lovably goofy. I do have to say, though, that Jeeves really didn’t come off as brilliant in this book — if I hadn’t had seen the series, I’d be wondering what the big deal is. Most of his brilliance was alluded to. Not that it mattered. (Not the point.)

I enjoyed this. I’m not sure if I’ll go out and read a whole bunch of Wodehouse, but I’m glad I’ve read at least one. It was a lot of fun. (I need to find a use for oojah-cum-spiff — as in “things are not looking to oojah-cum-spiff at the moment” — in a sentence sometime….)