Life at Blandings 'has it all'

I have crossed many a warm summers of my life, luxuriously getting addicted to reading. Nothing can make one feel so blessed the way a good writer does. He or she holds your mind and gently leads you on. It is this fact that made me read over again the ‘Life at Blandings’ by P. G. Wodehouse.

It is frothy as a cappuccino with the flavour of well soaked Darjeeling tea. The storyline is witty, humorous together with a zing of apprehension and surprise. This is Wodehouse for you.

Blandings Castle is the place where most of the action is centered, which like hot, spicy crisp noodles warms its way to the depth of our consciousness. At times we sit upright and at others our lips turn up in a pleasant smile of understanding. But for Clarence, ninth Earl of Emsworth, there is always something to disturb this tranquil scene. Whatever happens has a reason behind it.

Mysteries seem to be afoot at Blandings, for it has changed from a happy English home into an Edgar Allan Poetry story, written on a rainy day. The small doubts, disputes, misunderstandings, one-upmanship and yes the blooming of love, and seeing things in their proper light, is all beautifully brought out.

Wodehouse really has it all. Snippets of life stumbling at times on life’s corrugated path lend such depth to life that instead of tears, you double over with the light of comprehension.

Sir Galahad tries to interpret the butler’s look as he stares in a trance at a plateful of anchovy sandwiches, or Sue Brown arriving at Blandings as Miss Schoonmaker, or one telling on the other as Rupert Baxter lets Lady Catherine in on the mission of Percy Pilgrim. The world of Blandings is all agog with activity.

— The reader is a teacher based in Dubai.