Jeeves And The Yule Tide Spirit And Other Stories

‘Does one desire the Yule-tide spirit, sir?’ ‘Certainly one does. I am all for it.’ Aunts, engagements, misunderstandings and hangover cures; this delightful collection from ‘the greatest chronicler of a certain kind of Englishness’ (Julian Fellowes) brings together a baker’s dozen of P. G. Wodehouse’s finest short stories. ‘A comic master’ David Walliams ‘A cavalcade of perfect joy’ Caitlin Moran

This book collects the lifelong research on boredom by American psychologist Augustin de la Peña (1942-2021). It focuses on the experience of boredom—and other similar states, including ennui, melancholy, laziness, interest, attention, and entertainment—and its associated behaviors. Offering an interdisciplinary chronicle of boredom, from Antiquity to the present, special attention is paid to its daily experience as a ubiquitous phenomenon that informs cultural and political actions that continue to shape our society. Dr. de la Peña describes the obsolescence of the Western Commonsense View of Reality to propose a Developmental Psychophysiological Approach to Reality, reconceptualizing boredom. The book theorizes the condition as both logical and emotional, an axis that has defined the sensibility of the modern era. This is a volume edited posthumously by Josefa Ros Velasco and Christian Parreno in homage to Augustin’s work and his invaluable contribution to the establishment of the field of boredom studies.

'My only problem with Wodehouse is deciding which of his enchanting books to take to my desert island' Ruth Dudley Edwards 'The most industrious, prolific and beneficent author ever to have sat down, scratched his head and banged out a sentence' Stephen Fry -- 'Your tea will be here in a moment, sir.' 'No, Jeeves. This is no time for tea. I must concentrate." When his incomparable valet Jeeves suddenly resigns, how will the hapless Bertie Wooster get by? Bertie's dedicated but somewhat untuneful playing of the banjo has driven Jeeves, his otherwise steadfast gentleman's gentleman, to give notice. Looking for respite, Bertie disappears to the country as a guest of his chum Chuffy, only to find his peace shattered by the arrival of his ex-fiancée Pauline Stoker, her formidable father and the eminent loony-doctor Sir Roderick Glossop. It seems Bertie cannot survive for long without Jeeves - and soon a situation arises which only Jeeves can solve.

It is old Bertie Wooster's habit to land in the soup from time to time. To get into a spot of bother. Circumstances, aided and abetted by Aunt Agatha, Aunt Dahlia, Bingo Little, Tuppy, Sippy and others, seem to conspire against him, and a frightful muddle ensues. Enter Jeeves, the source of all solace. Jeeves of the infinite sagacity. Jeeves, that noiseless provider of deliverance from the hangover, a bird of the ripest intellect, calm and wise enough to rescue Bertie and his pals from the most fearful scrapes. Jeeves, that subtle master of prudence, good taste and ineffable composure. Where would that chump Bertie be without him? This omnibus edition will delight newcomers to Wodehouse as well as those already familiar with his sunny universe and his sparkling prose. It contains Right Ho, Jeeves, The Inimitable Jeeves and Very Good, Jeeves. Book jacket.

Bertie returns to London from several weeks in Cannes spent in the company of his Aunt Dahlia Travers and her daughter Angela. In Bertie's absence, Jeeves has been advising Bertie's old school friend, Gussie Fink-Nottle, who is in love with a goofy, sentimental, whimsical, childish girl named Madeline Bassett...

'Wodehouse would have made an excellent sports writer' Sunday Times As Wodehouse’s biographer Frances Donaldson observed, it was vitally important to the boy Plum that he was ‘above average at games’. Luckily, he was known at school as ‘a noted athlete, a fine footballer and cricketer [and] a boxer’, and sport inspired much of his earliest writings, as well as some of his very finest and laugh-out-loud funniest. Wodehouse wrote with trademark wit on a rich range of games – and on cricket and golf, in particular – as well as anyone ever has, bringing a knowledge and a passion born of practice. English cricket inspired in Wodehouse what he himself long considered to be his favourite work; and yet America (which he first visited keenly and then came to call home) led him to the love of baseball, and golf – enthusiasms that drew him to new tales for new audiences, including the celebrated golf stories which John Updike described as ‘the best fiction ever done about the sport.’ This rollicking anthology, selected, edited and introduced by the novelist Richard T. Kelly, offers a vivid picture of Wodehouse at play – in the ring, at the crease, on the tee – which is guaranteed to please any sporting crowd. Beginning with early journalism, taking in extracts from novels and short stories in their entirety, it all adds up to a medal-winning collection.

Jeeves—my man, you know—is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of omniscience. As an instance of what I mean, I remember meeting Monty Byng in Bond Street one morning, looking the last word in a grey check suit, and I felt I should never be happy till I had one like it. I dug the address of the tailors out of him, and had them working on the thing inside the hour. "Jeeves," I said that evening. "I'm getting a check suit like that one of Mr. Byng's." "Injudicious, sir," he said firmly. "It will not become you." "What absolute rot! It's the soundest thing I've struck for years." "Unsuitable for you, sir." Well, the long and the short of it was that the confounded thing came home, and I put it on, and when I caught sight of myself in the glass I nearly swooned. Jeeves was perfectly right. I looked a cross between a music-hall comedian and a cheap bookie. Yet Monty had looked fine in absolutely the same stuff. These things are just Life's mysteries, and that's all there is to it. But it isn't only that Jeeves's judgment about clothes is infallible, though, of course, that's really the main thing. The man knows everything. There was the matter of that tip on the "Lincolnshire." I forget now how I got it, but it had the aspect of being the real, red-hot tabasco. "Jeeves," I said, for I'm fond of the man, and like to do him a good turn when I can, "if you want to make a bit of money have something on Wonderchild for the 'Lincolnshire.'"