Nine reasons I can read Wodehouse’s Blandings series again and again:
1. There will always be Lord Emsworth, fluffy-headed, vague, besotted with his pig and beleaguered by female relatives.
2. The Empress is a charmer. And, for someone who stays pretty much safely ensconced in a sty (other than on the occasional jaunt when she’s kidnapped), is more often than not at the centre of things.
3. There will always be at least one pair of sundered hearts that need to be brought together. Mostly, there will be more.
4. At any given time, there will be a minimum of one impostor on the premises. An impostor, moreover, who’s rarely had the chance to perfect their act.
5. Gally, as always will be spreading sweetness and light, without any qualms about unscrupulousness in the process.
6. There will be Beach. There will be footmen. Maids. And a pig man (or, as in the case of Monica Simmons, pig girl).
7. It will all be held together by a thoroughly complex plot, with nearly everybody having something they can use to hold someone else to ransom, for whatever motive. This something could be anything from scandalous memoirs to a prize-winning sow, to a diamond necklace. To a fatal letter.
8. There will be mentions, at least, if not actual appearances of, other characters of the Wodehouse canon: members of the Drones, for instance. You’re always among friends.
9. And it will all be written in Wodehouse’s absolutely inimitable style:
‘My woman!’ he bellowed in a tone somewhat reminiscent of a costermonger calling attention to his brussels sprouts. and
Wilfred goggled. Years of association with her had left him with no doubt as to his Aunt Hermione being a pretty hardboiled egg, but he had never suspected her of quite such twenty-minutes-in-the-saucepan-ness as this.
Galahad at Blandings ticks, as one would expect, all the boxes. The sundered (or yet to be joined) hearts here are of Tipton Plimsoll and Veronica Wedge, about to wed (if only, as Lord Emsworth lets the Wedges know, Tippy hadn’t just lost his last dime in the Stock Exchange crash); of Wilfred Allsop and Monica Simmons, whom Wilfred cannot summon up the courage to propose to; and of Sam Bagshott, whose fiancée Sandy Callender—currently pesky secretary to His Lordship—has flung his ring at his face because they couldn’t see eye to eye about a syndicate that involved betting on whether Tipton Plimsoll would get married this time around…
Plus, there’s the domineering Dame Daphne Winkworth, whom Lord Emsworth, in an indiscreet youth, had been engaged to, and who is now actively seeking a renewal of supposed affections, much to our earl’s alarm.
In steps Gally, and it’s suddenly battle stations, with everybody from a pair of village constables to a boy intent on letting the Empress out of her sty for a run, joining in the goings-on at Blandings.
A humdinger of a book, light and frothy and just what the doctor ordered.