Weekly Shocks' Blog



Loving Sir Plum

*swoon*

*swoon*

So, today is Valentine’s Day, and across the world, people are celebrating in their own special ways: snuggling up with a significant other, or plunging into a two-gallon carton of Fudgie Nutty Tub o’ Lard, or getting dolled up and sobbing into overpriced martinis, or punching out car doors and bellowing the names of former lovers, and so on. You get the point. I frankly adore this holiday because of how much frenetic attention it receives, both good and bad. The bipolar nature of the whole thing is charmingly hysterical.

But Valentine’s Day is also a bit wistful in Weekly Shocks’ World, because February 14th marks the anniversary of the passing of the great PG Wodehouse. Wodehouse was, in my humble opinion, quite simply the finest, most wonderfully engaging comedic writer ever to live: there is really almost nothing more enjoyable than slipping into his idyllic world of Blandings unless it’s spending an afternoon with that incorrigible fop Bertram Wooster and his personal gentleman and protector, the unflappable Jeeves. I speak with reverence and sincere affection for good old PG, and, admittedly, a touch of jealousy too: in his lifetime, he wrote nearly a hundred books, proving himself not only a brilliant writer but a prolific one as well. I’d give an eyeball to write half as well as he does.

Lots of folks my age don’t seem to read Wodehouse anymore; many have never even heard of the man, which I find awfully sad. Vulgar, raunchy humor seems to be the norm these days, and while I personally see nothing wrong with a well-timed, disgusting or emphatically un-PC joke, it’s a shame that the comparatively wholesome, yet carefully constructed humor of Wodehouse is not only rarely made these days but not much enjoyed either. I fully understand that his somewhat circumscribed, rarefied world isn’t for everyone (though if you don’t like Wodehouse, I’ll think more of the gum on the bottom of my shoe than I do of you, you witless, drooling hick), but I do think a healthy swing in the direction of Wodehousian writing would do the world some profound good.

So, here’s my advice to you today, folks: disentangle yourself from the saliva of your loved one, put down your Tub O’ Lard, wipe up your mascara, bandage your bleeding hand (and stop punching my car, damn it! It’s over!). Go out, and find a book by PG Wodehouse. Any book will do, really. Just read the man. Enjoy the prose of a simpler, non-existent world, marvel at how wonderful it is, and let the ensuing happiness wash over you like a summer wave. He really is that good. Stephen Fry (another writer I like very much) once said of him, “What can one say about Wodehouse? He exhausts superlatives.” True, but it’s still fun to try.

RIP, Sir Plum. You were one of the greats and are sorely missed.

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Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. Whatever! Whatever! I do what I want! « Weekly Shocks’ Blog pingbacked on 8 years, 4 months ago

Comments

  1. * Brit says:

    Well said, squire.

    “‘Tinkerty tonk,’ I said, and I meant it to sting.”

    Unparalleled genius. In a narrow field, admittedly, but a a genius.

    Posted 8 years, 8 months ago


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