When you are all excited and eager for a big holiday to arrive, it's quite understandable if you're jumping about nervously, watching the clock and looking out the window, waiting for
the big guy to get here. (And I don't mean Arthur Carlson). That's why I heartily suggest if you're anxiously awaiting Christmas morning and it's still only Christmas Eve, there's a great way to relax yourself and take your mind off presents and candy and turkey and stockings for a wee bit:
read a P. G. Wodehouse book. I heartily recommend it, even if I did keep on getting up in the middle of reading it because I thought I heard sleigh bells.
Today's book for Week 35 and Christmas Eve is the Bertie and Jeeves short story collection
Very Good, Jeeves! (1930), which consists of stories originally published in the
Strand magazine. Did you know
The Strand still exists, or more accurately,
has been revived as a mystery and short story magazine? Even though there are unlikely to be any new Wodehouse short stories in it, I hope I get a subscription to it for Christmas. (pops up out of my armchair, peeks out the window, certain I heard sleigh bells; turns out to be the ice cream van taunting us in these cold winter months. I shake my hoof at the ice cream man.)
I honestly don't remember the order in which I got my early Wodehouse books, but I'm pretty sure that
Very Good, Jeeves! was of the first: I do remember getting it new when I was but a tiny stuffed calf, and now it's very sun-faded on the spine and yellowing on the page edges. I also think I may have gotten it for a Christmas present! Like that woman in the poem, however, her beauty withers not, her age decreases her in not the least, tumpty-tumpty,tumpty-tum, is the way I think it goes. This is one of my very favorite of the Jeeves short story collections, smack-dab in the prime of the canon, and is one of the more unusual books in that it features both of Bertie's aunts: the frightening Aunt Agatha and the bombastic Aunt Dahlia, and thus might be seen as a center-point between the earlier and later Bertie and Jeeves stories. This is prime stuff, and I can't sum it up better than
The Observer on the back cover: "There are eleven tales in this volume and each is the best."
If you had to give someone a first Wodehouse to read,
Very Good, Jeeves! would be a prime candidate. The prose is sparkling, the characters delightful, the plots clever, and Jeeves is at his sharpest. Each of the stories involves (naturally) Bertie getting entangled in a mess and Jeeves untangling the skein of complications at the end, rather like the U.S. Cavalry or the Lone Ranger coming in at just the right moment. Not that Bertie is always liable to take Jeeves's excellent advice:
'...many doctors, I understand, advocate such abstinence as the secret of health. The say it promotes a freer circulation of the blood and insures the arteries against premature hardening.'
'Oh, do they? Well, you can tell them next time you see them that they are silly asses.'
'Very good, sir.'
You know those articles in
Esquire magazine (I only read it for the photos of Keira Knightley, honest) that attempt to explain what the Modern Man Must Know? Well, long before magazine mascot
Esky and other dapper celebrities began dishing advice on how to live the life of a gentleman, Jeeves was the epitome of gentle breeding and good taste. Although I often took issue with his internet search engine, you can't fault the man for his sartorial advice:
'You don't think young Thomas would bean Mr Filmer with a cutlass?'
'We can but wait and see, sir. The tie, if I might suggest it sir, a shade more tightly knotted. One aims at the perfect butterfly effect. If you will permit me—'
'What do ties matter, Jeeves, at a time like this? Do you realize that Mr Little's domestic happiness is hanging in the scale?'
'There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter.'
The titles themselves are things of joy. If you're a Arthur Conan Doyle fan, you remember the thrill of opening
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes for the very first time and seeing thrilling short story titles so evocative and picturesque— "A Scandal in Bohemia"..."The Man with the Twisted Lip"..."The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb"...and my personal favorite, "The Red-Headed League"—that you could not help but flip the page as fast as possible and dive into the thrilling prose that awaited you.
Very Good, Jeeves! is much like that: colorful and intriguing titles that, like a good comic book cover, make you declare aloud "I
gotta read that!": "Jeeves and the Impending Doom"..."Episode of the Dog McIntosh"..."The Inferiority Complex of Old Sippy"..."Jeeves and the Song of Songs." Dear reader, I challenge you
not to bury your nose in the book after skimming the contents page. Here we have the Kid Clementina, and the Spot of Art, and the Love That Purifies, and each and every one of them is a corker with jewels-a-sparklin' on every page:
And yet, if I had only know, what I had been listening to that a.m. was the faint rumble of the coming storm. Unseen, in the background, Fate was quietly slipping the lead into the boxing-glove.
And...
'...My sister will be arriving to-morrow. She will be greatly upset. I am her favourite brother.'
'You are?'
'I am.'
'How many of you are there?'
'Six.'
'And you're her favourite?'
'I am.'
It seemed to me that the other five must be fairly sub-human, but I didn't say so. We Woosters can curb the tongue.
Many of the stories feature the tried-and-true yet never weary subplot of Jeeves disapproving of a purchase or habit of Bertie's and steelily withholding help until the end because of his dislike. As always, the reward for Jeeves's Sherlockian genius is for Bertie to grudgingly give up the object, in this case a pair of luridly-colored plus-four trousers:
I hesitated.
'Jeeves?'
'Sir?'
'Those plus-fours.'
'Yes, sir?'
'You may give them to the poor.'
'Thank you very much, sir.'
I sighed.
'It is my heart's blood, Jeeves.'
'I appreciate the sacrifice, sir. But, one the first pang of separation is over, you will feel much easier without them.'
'You think so?'
I am convinced of it, sir.'
'So be it, then, Jeeves,' I said. 'so be it.'
What's bubbling below the surface of this conversation is that Bertie has also given up Bobbie Wickham, a fiancée Jeeves did not approve of. Unlike the other Wodehouse romances, Bertie Wooster never finishes the story married or in love. Why should he? He's got everything he needs in Jeeves. (Not that I mean what you're giggling at. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.))
I've got three editions of
Very Good, Jeeves! on the ol' Wodehouse bookshelf, that old spine-faded Penguin paperback, a hardcover Everyman Library edition, both of which feature cover illustrations of the Right Hon. A. B. Filmer treed—or, more accurately, summer-housed—by a vicious swan (from the first story in the collection, "Jeeves and the Impending Doom"), and one slightly ratty A. L. Burt US reprint hardcover (perhaps chewed on by the Dog McIntosh?). You can ask Santa for your very own copy, but this late, you might just wanna order yourself up a copy of this collection of entertaining eleven stories by clickin' on the usual Amazon link:
And don't forget that many of these stories were adapted by Clive Exton and brought to life by Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry (and brilliantly, I might add) in the ITV-TV series
Jeeves and Wooster. The stories in this volume are spread out among the four series of the show (and include many other stories from other Jeeves collections), but if you must try only one, go for the luminous and delightful Series One. Like the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes, there are few finer visual adaptations of the genius of Wodehouse than these shows. Me? I'm off to make some hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows, pop one of my
Jeeves and Wooster DVDs into the player, and snuggle back in my chair, waiting out Father Christmas.
Hmmm? What's that you ask?
"Do Bertie and Jeeves ever celebrate Christmas?" Funny you should ask! Why, let me tell you about...
(sounds of sleigh bells jingling from outside)
(runs to window and presses be-ringéd nose to the cold frosty pane)
I have to go to bed
now folks or I won't get any presents! I'll tell you about Bertie and Jeeves's Christmas real soon, okay?
Maybe
sooner that you think...stay tuned!
A Wodehouse a Week Index.
X-MEN: FIRST CLASS #7: This comic is fun. Not only that, it's been consistently one of my favorite fun comics of the year, and this issue (the second part of the "Catalyst" storyline) is no exception. The original X-Teens have lost their powers, and they're facing off against a squadron of 99 Sentinels (count 'em; they're all in a scary and impressive splash page). Jeff Parker's script is as always witty and well-dialogued, and the Roger Cruz artwork is vibrant and energetic in action and quiet scenes. It's got a great action-pacing with a real sense of urgency against the clock as they rush to save Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch. First Class continues to tickle my little stuffed stuff fancy, even when there's no Colleen Coover back-up (but there is a funny one-page Chris Giarrusso "Mighty Marvels" strip with a delightful Professor X as Jean-Luc Picard design. Speaking of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I've praised this book before for its frequent themes that a supposed antagonist is not always a true enemy, and the Catalyst is no exception. That said, I do wish sometimes there would be more straight-out black-and-white villainy—bring on Magneto!—rather than a misunderstood villain in almost every issue. Just once in a while.
BATMAN #672: This comic is sorta fun. Grant Morrison's Batman is another perpetual favorite of mine. How favorite? I bought and read, and more important, really enjoyed Morrison's two "Hey, I'm Ra's al Ghul and I'm Back, Baby!" crossover issues of Batman without picking up the other comics in the series. I think the "Club of Heroes" trilogy is one of the most entertaining Batman stories in several years (and one of my favorite stories of 2007). So why doesn't this issue get top marks? I guess it's simply because I really just don't get what's going on. I know it's related to events earlier in Morrison's run but I need to get those issues out again to reacquaint myself with the Three Batmen situation. Or maybe I just need to wait for the trade instead and read 'em all in one swell foop so I can slap my little fuzzy forehead and go "Oh, so that's who that is!" In the meantime, tho', I just don't feel smart enough for Batman. Then again, is that Bat-Mite on the final page? Cool.
SPECIAL FORCES #2: This comic is fun. Okay, this is a more adult comic with story, dialogue, art and themes that really isn't appropriate for a six-year-old stuffed bull, but my pal John (who helps me pick out and buy comics) really, really is enjoying this. Up above I mentioned a great breakneck pace to X-Men...well, compared to this, X-Men is a turtle crawl. Kyle Baker is always an amazing, colorful, dramatic artist, one of my favorites in anything he does, and this over-the-top comic with a social and political point. You can probably make the argument that this is simply the same sort of dark comedy, outrageous violence and sexual suggestion (Felony's fatigues get shredded more and more) that Miller and Lee are doing in All Star Batman, but perhaps because of the original story and characters or Baker's unparalleled design sense I'm enjoying this a heck of a lot more than the gosh-darn Batman. Beautifully-produced and no ads!—heck of a bargain.
JACK OF FABLES #18: This comic is fun. Like Special Forces, Jack of Fables is definitely for mature readers, but John lets me read this (and big sister publication Fables) and both have delighted me. My good friend the well-read Miss Jenn raved about these series so much while we were at San Diego Comic-Con this past year that I actually bought a stack of Fables trades and Jack comics in San Diego to read on the plane home, and I've been hooked ever since. Jack continues to be a great romp and one of the few genuinely funny comic books out there: witty, sarcastic, and, despite a tearful moment in here, unsentimental. At first I thought Bill Willingham and Lilah Sturges might have written themselves into a corner when they first told us Jack would never return to Fabletown, but this series has been a dandy way to explore the other mythological aspects of the world outside the Fable community. Plus, sexy librarians, the cracked Humpty Dumpty, very genteel zombies, and yet another page-long fantasy adventure of the Sensational Character Find of 2006, Babe the Tiny Blue Ox! (Really, how can I not love the only comic on the market with a small bull in it?) Plus, Jack #18 features The Best Line of the Week: "They are throwing the book at us! It is ironic!" Say, remember when DC Direct did Sandman action figures? Well, I want a Jack action figure, and a Gary the Pathetic Fallacy figure, and a Hillary figure with removable ska-check glasses, and especially Paul Bunyan with miniature Babe the Tiny Blue Ox figures. Until then, I'm content to name JACK OF FABLES #18 the most fun comic of the week!
Hi hi hi Santa! (Or should I say "ho ho ho"? tee hee!) It's me, Bully, the little stuffed bull. How are you? I am fine. In fact I have been very very very very good all this year. (Note: if you have read the letter from my baby sister Marshall please ignore the thing about the garter snake in her bed. It just slipped in there by accident.)
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