Have you seen the movie “40 days, 40 nights”? For the
unfortunate few who have missed out on the charms of this testosterone fueled comedy,
it is about a guy who takes a vow to not have any sexual activity for the
aforementioned number of days. At the end of the period, he experiences a
volcanic release. That is the kind of orgasmic joy which the reader would get from
every episodeof this splendid collection of Wooster and Jeeves tales.
This collection has eleven stories out of which at least
five, for me, are among the best that Wodehouse has written.
Jeeves takes the
cake in the appropriate titled “Jeeves and the song of songs” when he arranges
far too many performances of a song which is much favored by the bathroom
singers, in front of an unappreciative crowd. Then there is the tale of the
impending doom wherein a cabinet minister is marooned on an island without a
boat and the sea is infested with foul tempered swans. Aunt Agatha’s dog
MacIntosh also makes a memorable appearance in what turns out to be a harrowing
experience for Wooster.
“The inferiority complex of Old Sippy” tells the tale of
Sipperley, Wooster’s friend and an editor, who cannot gather courage to propose
the girl of his choice. He also cannot say no to the articles from the
principal of old school days which are inappropriate for his magazine. “The
love that purifies” is a very funny tale which has its main protagonist Thomas,
the son of Aunt Agatha who decides to become good when he gets to know that a
prize has been set for good behavior.
It has been nearly a month since I last tasted Wodehouse’s
works. I didn’t know how much I was missing him until I devoured this. There are
sentences which are pure magic and would leave you cackling.
My favorite line in the book was when Wooster says he went out
and came back so fast that he nearly met himself going out.
Wodehouse cannot be praised highly enough. The sheer twists
he is able to give to standard screw ball stories is breath taking. What I love
most about the Jeeves’ books is the way they are narrated by the dim Wooster. The
language, man! The characters. Only the stone hearted can be inured from the
charm of this fantastic duo. The sheer joy which his words give is something
which has to be experienced to be believed.
His books can take you higher than a good joint. They are
more addictive than the most habit forming drugs.
At the end of every
Wodehouse book, I feel both delirious and slightly depressed. The reasons for
my happiness have been described above. I become somewhat sad because I know
now there is one less book of his left to read and there would come a time in
the future when I would run out of Wodehouse.
Any praise is too little for a genius like him.
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