I just finished another Wodehouse novel - this one being my first in the Wooster & Jeeves series - and I have to say I quite enjoyed it. The Inimitable Jeeves is, like the other Wodehouse books I've read, just a silly romp and good-natured poke at the idle rich.
They certainly do not reflect the reality of class difference in 1920s England (the biggest conflicts that arise in this book tend to relate to Jeeves' disapproval of Bertie's clothing choices, which are admittedly rather foppish) - but then I try not to read fiction looking for reality, dash it - hence my love of Wodehouse and books involving swords, dragons, and goblets.
While I very much enjoyed this book, I think that I need to slow down somewhat my reading of Wodehouse's oeuvre. I've always known his books are formulaic but it started to grate just a little with this one. So, perhaps I'll read more Serious Fiction in the coming year and write cranky posts about them to satisfy my fans' desire for some Perez Hilton-style trashing of pretentious books. Also, I think more pulp is called for. Bring on the lit-trash!
Tomorrow: put yourself to sleep with my year-end statistics!
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