“Psmith, Journalist” by P.G. Wodehouse
Every so often, I decide to throw a wildcard into my reading pile. And having recently rewatched the entire run of the 1990s adaptations of Jeeves and Wooster, I decided I would finally give reading P.G. Wodehouse a go.
The story begins with Psmith accompanying his fellow Cambridge student Mike to New York on a cricketing tour. Through high spirits and force of personality, Psmith takes charge of a minor periodical, and becomes imbroiled in a scandal involving slum landlords, boxers and gangsters - the story displays a strong social conscience, rare in Wodehouse's generally light-harted works.
Wodehouse is one of those authors who has been lucky enough to last long past his own time. But I wasn't expecting some great literary experience. Even having never read any of his work before, I know exactly what I was getting.
What we do have with Psmith, Journalist, is a fun little tale. Despite how some people feel about Wodehouse and this work, we're not dealing with timeless characters and situations that share some universal connection to humanity. It's all pretty harmless, as far as novels from the early 20th century go. (I'm always cautious of writing from this period in time, but this one was only mildly misogynistic and racist.)
At most, this was an interesting look into fiction from that time. It's always interesting to see how literature has changed over time. Apparently, back then it was considered fine to have 80% of your novel be a single character talking. And, if nothing else, it's worth reading this book just for the way Wodehouse writes out the New York accent.
All in all, this is a (mostly) inoffensive example of turn of the century humour. Unless you're a diehard Wodehouse fan, you'll not get much out of it more than that.
