Totally out of the blue, I dived into ‘Adventures of Sally’ this week. Near the end I realized how uninhibited his prose, especially his humour could be. It is a thing of marvel.
Not that I would dare to analyse or critique or try to ‘review’ Wodehouse, I’m just here to gush, if that doesn’t sound too eeky.
Some really cool insights apart, I loved it how Ginger (Mr. Lancelot Kemp) has an uncle Donald (oh the Wodehouse uncles and aunts..) and he uses his mustache as a soup strainer. Now now, there have been several ‘walrus mustaches’ across the pages of literature but none in particular that ‘heave gently upon one’s labored breath, like seaweed on a ground-swell’ or the one that gets employed ‘during meals as a sort of zareba or earthwork against the assaults of soup’.
It also made me realize how since time immemorial, in a story involving any kind of romance, if the girl or a guy are engaged to someone else, they are often incompatible and heading for a break sooner or by the end of the story.
Amazing how a lot of characters are kind of selfish but good-natured and quirky. Since I married the man who introduced me to Wodehouse, I have a different filter for this humour, but Wodehouse kind of gives you a funny lens to view your own world along with the world in his pages.
This week has been comparatively lighter, what with our detour to Nuremberg Nazi Rally grounds and Munich’s Deutsche Museum wing of airplanes and zeppelins, I could only read John Green’s ‘Looking for Alaska’ and Wodehouse’s ‘Adventures of Sally’.
The coming week looks promising. A woman’s mag article, a couple of travel bits and loads of reading. Not too shabby.