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I had thought, for some reason, that this was one of the earlier ‘Blandings’ books, but now realise it’s actually the latest one that was completed. Not that it matters. Wodehouse books stand alone, although perhaps it would have been easier to keep track of the extensive cast of characters had I read some of the earlier Blandings books more recently.
Clarence, Lord Emsworth, is a familiar person to me. He’s the owner of the castle, and a delightfully vague man whose passion is his huge pig, the Empress of Blandings. She has won medals, and he cares more about her than about his home or his family. Lord Emsworth has a large number of sisters; the only one who appears in this book is Constance, who was recently married. She usually lives in the United States with her new husband so it’s rather a shock when she turns up to stay.
Constance has invited the Duke of Dunstable, a large and irritating man who is obsessed with money. His niece Linda is with him. And Clarence is so horrified that he invites his brother Galahad, whom he does like, as a bit of support. Galahad happens to have a godson, Johnnie, who has just become engaged to the Duke’s niece Linda, although the course of true love, as in most Wodehouse novels, runs far from smoothly.
There are other people staying at Blandings, one of whom is Vanessa Polk, an American woman whom Lady Constance met on the ship that brought them to England. Constance thinks the Duke should marry Vanessa, and he quite likes the idea. Another visitor is Wilbur Trout, who has had several wives and was once engaged to Vanessa. And then there’s Howard Chesney, a rather dubious character who is apparently a friend of Lord Emsworth’s son Freddie.
It’s a biggish cast of people to keep track of, and I found myself forgetting sometimes who was whom. Not that it particularly matters. The story is about a broken engagement, and about an expensive painting. It’s about several people thinking Lord Emsworth is becoming more than just eccentric; and it’s about Wodehouse’s wonderful use of language. He refers to Shakespeare, the Bible and various poets in passing, quoting and misquoting, and comparing his characters’ situations and emotions with people (or animals) from the classics.
It took me a little while to get into the story, as I felt a tad overwhelmed with so many people and such a complex net of subplots. But I kept reading and found it more enjoyable as I continued. I always appreciate Wodehouse’s style, and he had not lost his touch despite being in his late eighties when ‘A Pelican at Blandings’ was published in 1969.
It’s not laugh-aloud funny, but I smiled several times as I was reading, and will be looking out for a slightly better quality edition for reading again, perhaps in eight or nine years’ time.
Definitely recommended if you like this kind of very British dry and somewhat intellectual upper-class humour.
Review copyright 2020 Sue's Book Reviews
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