P G Wodehouse's Jeeves and Wooster books are some of the funniest stories I've ever had the privilege to read. 'Thank you, Jeeves' is one of the best of the lot. I've just listened to the audiobook read by Simon Callow, who does Wodehouse's characters full justice. He made it very easy to imagine all the different personalities and the extraordinary and outrageous situations they tumbled into, only to be patiently extricated by the wise and resourceful Jeeves.
The tale starts with the unthinkable. Jeeves hands in his notice because Bertie has taken up the playing of an infernal instrument, the music of which, it seems, he alone can appreciate. He leaves for the country rather than give up his banjolele in the interests of peace with his neighbours. His old school chum Chuffy (who is now Jeeve's gentleman), provides him with an out-of-the-way cottage on his estate. From start to finish poor Bertie is dogged by unlikely coincidences and runs into shadows from the past. Even in the rural south west extreme of England he meets an old Nemesis from across the Atlantic who briefly manages to kidnap him in an attempt to force Bertie to marry his beautiful daughter (and Chuffy's intended). In the meantime, Jeeves has left Chuffy's employ and joined the service of Mr Stoker (the American Nemesis) and manages to rescue Bertie from certain matrimony by disguising him and smuggling him off his erstwhile father-in-law to-be's yacht. As usual, everyone gets the wrong end of the stick because, of course, every stick is presented wrong end first - so the father, the daughter, Chuffy, the policemen and anyone else grasping for a stick, are under misapprehensions that only Jeeves can remedy.
In addition to the old school chum and the old girl-friend and her despotic dad, the story is populated by: Bertie's downstairs neighbour and her Pomeranian, her doctor (a nerve specialist who also turns out to be Chuffy's aunt's doctor), two hellish kids - one belonging to Chuffy's aunt and one belonging to Bertie's Nemesis, two bumbling policemen, Bertie's new and unstable valet who goes on an alcoholic bender and, hovering on the periphery throughout there's a troupe of minstrels that Bertie was hoping to meet and get a few tips on playing his banjolele.
I recommend this audiobook. Other readers might have read it well, but I'm sure none could have read it better than Simon Callow.