Jeeves and the Tie That Binds (Paperback)

This entry in the canon (a direct sequel to Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves) is a little disappointing in comparison to others, mainly because for once, Wodehouse overuses some of his gags. Throughout the story, Wooster fumbles for words and phrases, a device which quickly loses any of its scant charm. Similarly, Jeeves' erudition is overdisplayed, as quotes from Shakespeare, Burns, Worthsworth, and numerous Romans are crammed in-as are Biblical references and Wooster's reminiscing about winning a school prize for Old Testament knowledge. Still, the story of a local election, a purloined silver pot, the missing journal of the Junior Ganneymeade Club, Spode, and various ladies eager to marry Bertie, all set amidst Aunt Dahlia's mansion, is sure to please what Wodehouse refers to as "the old sweats."

Those who deride the shallow subject matter and milieu of the Jeeves and Wooster series need to recall the context in which these stories appeared. Only a few years removed from the horrors of World War I-an event that is never alluded to in the series, despite the loss of an entire generation of British young men-the stories can be viewed as a bandage of sorts, an attempt to transport the reader to a world far removed from the traumatic recovery from the Great War. Not to mention Wodehouse's clear depiction of the upper classes as wastrels and idiots of the highest order when compared to the street savvy of the servants (as exemplified by Jeeves). Of course, one doesn't read Wodehouse for social commentary or as a salve these days, but for his dry wit and keen command of the written word.

Jeeves & the Tie That Binds also has the charm of looking behind the scenes to reveal a little more about Jeeves and his fellow butlers and gentlemen's gentlemen who belong to the Junior Ganymede club that keeps the top secret book about the foibles of those they serve . . . so they can avoid taking on someone who will be most unsuitable as an employer. Bertie's been worried about that book for years, despite having benefited from many of Jeeves's shared confidences about the book.

On the surface, the call to arms is a simple enough one. Aunt Dahlia, whose table is made resplendent by the redoubtable Anatole, wants Bertie to come to Market Snodsbury (don't you love that name?) to help his old Oxford friend, Harold (Ginger) Winship, run for office as an M.P. Bertie soon has matters all fouled up, as usual, when he makes his first campaign call on Ginger's opponent.

But Ginger has more serious problems, he's engaged to Florence Craye, the woman who keeps threatening to marry Bertie. Florence loves to improve her men, which is why Ginger is running for office. Fail to be elected, and he knows he will get the old heave-ho.

Bertie soon falls afoul of his mistaken reputation as a thief, and worse risks soon threaten him. Unfortunately, the latest person to suspect Bertie is the man he's supposed to charm into giving lots of money to his old friend, Tuppy Glossop.

Life gets even more challenging when it turns out that the secret book contains scandalous doings by Ginger that would scotch his efforts to become elected. Then Florence would have her eye on Bertie again . . . not to mention that Madeline Bassett is also seeking Bertie's hand in marriage.

Matters become so difficult that Bertie takes in on the lam, leaving matters in Jeeves's capable hands.

As usual, a major point in the book's favor is the frequent use of original metaphors, similes and comparisons. Here's one of my favorites by Aunt Dahlia: "Why are you staring at me like a halibut on a fishmonger's table?"

Hew to the old feudal spirit!