[Book 49] Something Fresh by P.G Wodehouse (1915)

While there have been previous Blandings short story collections before, this is the first Blanding’s novel (247 pages), one where the crazed denizens of the rural British aristocracy form the backdrop of yet another droll yet somewhat more meaty tale.

In this effort, the struggling author of the awful Gridley Quayle pulp detective novels named Ashe Marson, and a plucky young woman who writes for a love pulp, Joan Valentine are rivals for stealing a rare Egyptian scarab of the Fourth Dynasty of Cheops.

The owner of the scarab is the dyspeptic millionaire, Mr. Peters.  His scarab is missing, and he is offering a vast reward for its return.

The Villain of the piece?  The fluffy-brained Earl of Emsworth, owner of Blandings Castle, who accidentally purloined the valuable antique.

Now the stolen scarab is reposing in the Castle Blandings museum next to a Gutenberg Bible, amongst other relics seemingly open for all to steal it.

Naturally the two poverty-pulpsters need to steal it back for the reward.

Naturally complications ensue.

::B::

P.S. My copy of the book was found in the omnibus reprint collection, Life At Blandings (1981, itself reprinted 2008) a collection that also included Summer Lightning and Heavy Weather.

[Book 94] The 31st of June, by J.B. Priestley (1961)

Sam Plenty, an artist working on an advertising project of Damosel Stockings for the advertising firm of Wallaby, Dimmock, Paly and Tooks, conjures of the image of a beautiful princess to sell such wispy synthetic feminine products.

Meanwhile, the lovely Princess Melicent of Peradore, gazing into a mystic mirror to catch of glimpse of her True Love, catches a glimpse of Sam.

It’s love a first sight, but things get complicated by the machinations of two magicians, ancient Marlagram and his younger nephew Malgrim.  There occurs a crossing over of the Two Worlds, with ad-men in the court of King Meliot, wizards in public houses, and princesses winning Miss Nutty Cake Mix 1961.  There are dungeons and dragons (!), sexy bad girls and sexy good princesses, wicked Red Knights, and bendy swords all thrown in the way of poor Sam and sexy Melicent finally getting together.

The Thirty-First of June: A Tale of True Love, enterprise and Progress, in the Arthurian and Ad (Advertising)-Atomic Ages is simultaneously and whimsical and farcical comic novel by a master of English prose.

It’s a light, fast, fun read, and makes a nice change of pace from all the Tolkien wannabes out there.

::B::

Shamrocks & Shoggoths

It’s been a little busy this weekend.

Friday my wife was in Toronto taking a philosophy course, and our little one was not happy, and had a prolonged tantrum.  She (our three year old) wouldn’t let me console her or let me leave, but insisted I stay in the living room while she kicked at the (locked) front door.  While waiting for her to calm down, I picked up and started re-reading an old favourite, Festival at Farbridge, by one of my favourite authors, J. B.  Priestley, which became Book #20 Saturday night at three am.

Saturday was St. Patrick’s Day.  We all had to go to Ikea to get a replacement wooden frame for our little one’s bed (one of the slats broke with some jumping), and the place was simply packed with persons.  We later went to Parks Furniture where I found my wife and I have very different ideas about what kind of replacement sofa to get for our living room (I want something durable that you can easily clean; she wants something cloth with a tapestry like brocade). Saturday afternoon my computer started going flaky, just before I went out for some D&D at

pyat

and

velvetpage

’s house.  We all had some fun gaming despite one player being absent and another bowing out early.

During this game session we ran into some cultists who were worshipping some form of quasi- Shoggoth god, and then started turning into unpleasant blobs of tentacles and slime (think of those old McDonald’s Shamrock Shakes with a few green worms thrown in).  To complete the St. Patrick’s Day theme, at the climax of our game session there was a sudden flash of green light that lit up the fantasy city we were residing in, and a giant blob of protoplasm the size of a city block, all covered with gibbering mouths, eyes and tentacles, rolled over the city wall.

Today?  I’m a bit bummed out at my computer. While the other’s were at church, I coaxed a few back-ups from my now unreliable iBook.  I also went out and did a bit of shopping on my own, while I puzzled what my next move is (repair shop or buy a new Apple lap-top.

::B::