A fascinating thing about P. G. Wodehouse is how very early on it was all in place. This was published in 1917 but is absolute vintage, top drawer Wodehouse - Plum's Roaring Twenties, with its millionaires and night clubs, is already in full swing.
The plot is of an ingenious complexity even by the standards of the master of ingenious complexity (at one point even the hero has to use a pencil and sheet of paper to work out where he stands) I have never read a book before where the lead character has to impersonate Himself, a wonderful conceit.
The whole thing is one big delight, P G Wodehouse revelling in the details of the Good Life on both sides of the Atlantic (don't buy that stuff about Wodehouse `showing up the hypocrisy of the upper classes' etc) There is a gallery of memorable characters as one would expect, but the fearsome feminist Private Detective, snarling through gritted teeth and reading Schopenhauer, has to be one of the most memorable characters in fiction full stop.
And there is a delightful, distinctly unsoppy Romance at the heart of it.
That much overused term feel-good could have been coined with Wodehouse in mind, and he is the one to turn to when the World seems down.