My first Wodehouse and I loved it. I was in the mood for something less weighty than Lord Jim
one humid, exhausting night in the middle of the July 2013 English heatwave, I alighted on Wodehouse's complete works as my next iBooks buy (for a ridiculously low price), having seen and enjoyed Jeeves and Wooster
on TV and occasionally heard Stephen Fry trumpeting Wodehouse's writing in the media. A glance at my recent purchase Who Else Writes Like?
showed that he and Fry share similar styles and that Wodehouse is a crossover writer (meaning, as I discovered, he also appeals to YA readers). All the better for my mind which was unable at that moment to enter deep contemplations and process highly complex imagery and plotlines.
The medicine did the trick – the seven posthumously-published short stories skip along at a merry pace, and more or less every time I thought I might be on the verge of getting bored there was a deftly brilliant comic twist, starting me chuckling out loud to myself until the story ended. My first Wodehouse, but it won't be my last.