I've been waiting for my copy of McCrum's Wodehouse: a Life for weeks. I've ordered it from an Australian bookseller, and it should arrive sometime this month. If only I'd ordered from Amazon.com. :-(
To my mind, P.G. Wodehouse, known as Plum, ranks right up there with Shakespeare and Dickens.
From this article by Roger Kimball, here's a quote from Hilaire Belloc on Plum:
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Writing is a craft, like any other: playing the violin, skating, batting at cricket, billiards, wood carving . . . ; and mastership in any craft is attainment of the end to which that craft is devoted. . . . The end of writing is the production of a certain image and a certain emotion. And the means towards that end are the use of words in any particular language; and the complete use of that medium is the choosing of the right words and the putting of them into the right order. It is this which Mr. Wodehouse does better, in the English language, than anyone else alive.
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From the same article, here's the Giggle of the Day (from Leave it to Psmith (1924);
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A small maid-of-all work appeared in answer to the bell, and stood transfixed as the visitor, producing a monocle, placed it in his right eye and inspected her through it.
"A warm afternoon," he said cordially.
"Yes, sir."
"But pleasant," urged the young man. "Tell me, is Mrs. Jackson at home?"
"No, sir."
"Not at home?"
"No, sir."
The young man sighed.
"Ah, well," he said, "we must always remember that these disappointments are sent to us for some good purpose. No doubt they make us more spiritual. Will you inform her that I called. The name is Psmith. P-smith."
"Peasmith, sir?"
"No, no. P-s-m-i-t-h. I should explain to you that I started life without the initial letter, and my father always clung ruggedly to the plain Smith. But it seemed to me that there were so many Smiths in the world that a little variety might well be introduced. Smythe I look on as a cowardly evasion, nor do I approve of the too prevalent custom of tacking another name on in front by means of a hyphen. So I decided to adopt the Psmith. The p, I should add for your guidance, is silent, as in phthisis, psychic, and ptarmigan. You follow me?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"You don't think," he said anxiously, "that I did wrong in pursuing this course?"
"N-no, sir."
"Splendid!" said the young man, flicking a speck of dust from his sleeve. "Splendid! Splendid!"
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