As the light, filler posts of the last few days may suggest, I am enjoying my vacation far too much to worry about writing thoughtful, analytical reviews. I am taking notes as I’m reading and eventually (probably) these will be typed up into something resembling coherent thought but for now I am happy to focus on having a good time.
And who better to ensure a good time than P.G. Wodehouse? Rather than a review (it’s Wodehouse, any review I was going to write was going to be overwhelmingly positive anyways), I shall simply leave you will delightful quotes from Heavy Weather:
From the introduction (by Anthony Lane): “The most that one can say of Heavy Weather, probably, is that it rotates around two topics of consuming interest: a) fat pigs and those who care for them, and b) willowy young men and those who care for them. These two subjects are pleasingly entwined; to be honest, there is little to choose between them, although the leading pig, Empress of Blandings, far outstrips the resident young men in her poise and equanimity, and, for all one knows, her IQ.” (p. vii)
“The Hon. Galahad Threepwood, in his fifty-seventh year, was a dapper little gentleman on whose grey but still thickly-covered head the weight of a consistently misspent life rested lightly. His flannel suit sat jauntily upon his wiry frame, a black-rimmed monocle gleamed jauntily in his eye. Everything about this Muskateer of the nineties was jaunty. It was a standing mystery to all who knew him that one who had had such an extraordinarily good time all his life should, in the evening of that life, be so superbly robust. Wan contemporaries who had once painted a gas-lit London red in his company and were now doomed to an existence of dry toast, Vichy water, and German cure resorts felt very strongly on this point. A man of his antecedents, they considered, ought by rights to be rounding off his career in a bath-chair instead of flitting about the place, still chaffing head waters as of old and calling for the wine list without a tremor.” (p. 40)
“…meanwhile I will be giving Pirbright his intructions.”
“Tell him to lurk.”
“Exactly.”
“Some rude disguise such as a tree or a pail of potato-peel would help.”
Lord Emsworth reflected.
“I don’t think Pirbright could disguise himself as a tree.”
“Nonsense. What do you pay him for?” (p. 43)
“No healthy person really needs food. If people would only stick to drinking, doctors would go out of business.” (p. 44)
The happiest of Wednesdays to you all!
Glad you are enjoying your break – I hope the weather isn’t too heavy with you 🙂
Focusing on having a good time is what vacations are for! Glad you are enjoying it.
Oh, he is a gem, isn’t he!
I love those excerpts! Which makes me happy – some months ago I tried my first Wodehouse, My Man Jeeves, and much to my disappointment didn’t love it nearly as much as I had hoped. I suspect I might have more luck next time, though.
Thanks. I needed that.
But…. 56 is the evening of one’s life?
Oh my gosh, I’m in deep deep trouble.
Oh wait, PGW continued to write until he was 90, so what did he know about 56 year olds?