Thank You, Plum

September was a good month for Wodehousians. On the 20th we assembled in Westminster Abbey for Evensong and then, in a state of Grace but not Monaco, the Duke of Kent presented a memorial to PGW to the Dean, who dedicated it.

It is a small stone, placed quite low, with swirling lettering and an easy-to-miss inscription around the edges; all reflections of the modest genius it honours. Indeed after the ceremony when I filed past to inspect the stone I completely missed the inscription. It reads; humourist, novelist, playwright, lyricist. Nearby, Noël Coward’s memorial is big and shiny – an ostentatious memorial to a man with just “a talent to amuse”. Wodehouse’s oeuvre surpasses that but he wouldn’t want a fuss about it.

Imagine if Plum had died at the outbreak of World War I. He might be remembered for two novels introducing Ukridge and Psmith but the rest of his huge early output is unremarkable – particularly the school novels and most of his short stories. However, examination reveals hints of what is to come and dedicated Wodehousians can explore this theme with Paul Kent in his Pelham Grenville Wodehouse, Volume I. “This is jolly old Fame”. The early chapters concentrate on his output up to 1915 and even an ardent fan like Paul is realistic about some shortcomings. Nevertheless he points out the seeds that will germinate into the glorious world Plum created, populated by Jeeves, Wooster, Lord Emsworth, Mr Mulliner and his relations, members of the Drones and so on. My favourite, Hot Water, has none of those characters; what’s it all about (Alfie)?

 

French Leave

Another good PGW novel but Bertie has barked and the caravan must move on. British and French history is intertwined; for centuries we fought each other; became allies in the Crimea and two World Wars – ironic as our royal dynastic links are with Russia and Germany. Since the Great Terror the French peasant has flexed his muscles to assert his rights, recently in a yellow vest. I am reading about the widespread mutinies in the French army in 1917, another thread in this tapestry.

Field Marshall Haig’s Director of Operations gave his side of the story in 1953: Haig, Master of the Field. Major General Sir John Davidson KCMG, CB, DSO wanted to dispel what he saw as unjustified criticism of his boss and part of his account explains that Haig had to draw German offensives away from the mutiny weakened French army. Fortunately German Intelligence did not realise that the French Front was an open goal. Military tactics of the time made horrifyingly high casualty levels on both sides inevitable. That led historians to criticise the Generals; Haig was dubbed “Butcher”. However, by 1918 he had crushed the German army and was “Master of the Field”. Haig inspired great admiration and loyalty from the troops he commanded so perhaps Davidson’s re-assessment of Haig’s successes towards the end of WW I cannot be taken entirely at face value but it is an insider’s view.

Foxes

Every morning I take Bertie for a walk on his lead (rules are rules) in Margravine Cemetery. Bertie is a botanist; he sniffs every leaf and flower, often sampling blades of grass. We wander around and while Bertie is smelling, I’m reading inscriptions on headstones. I work up an appetite for brekker and, with a bit of luck, Bertie evacuates his supper. Following the hounds in Ireland and the Lake District I often saw foxes scarpering in the distance; now they pose for photos.

The State of the Party

Of course the Conservative Party, for whom I have voted always. I will not vote for the Conservative candidate to be London Mayor next year. I will vote for Rory Stewart – a white, male, Old Etonian – so there. But on Sunday I went to a Conservative fund-raising lunch in Dominic Grieve’s constituency. Dominic was disinvited as he’s been expelled from the Party and declared that he will run as an Independent. Tom Tugendhat took his place. Long ago I lent Tom a smugglers’ fly rod and he used this as an intro to talk about tribalism in Afghanistan – an allegory of the divisions in the UK. I imagine Tom voted Remain – his wife and his mother are both French, his uncle was an EU Commissioner.

A year ago in the same room at Stoke Park I heard Dominic Grieve’s divisive address. On Sunday Tom said that we must leave the EU but in an orderly way. He said that families have squabbles but they come together and the way I’m writing it sounds like platitudes. It wasn’t. He went on to answer in detail questions from the floor. He wasn’t asked about Brexit because he had made his view so clear; compromise.

If you were there you will recall all the countries where my rod had been deployed and with what little success. He also said that there were some countries that he wasn’t able to mention. Well, before Tom Tugendhat expropriated my rod I had a cast or two in Ethiopia. He’s not giving it back, he told me. Just like Bertie when he has appropriated a sock.

I would like to serve my country. I served briefly in the regular army and the TA. That’s what many Conservative MPs have done but I am not the man for the job. At lunch at Stoke Park I met four prospective candidates sniffing for Dominic’s safe seat. An ex Goldman Sachs, Syrian whose polished English is his third language, after Arabic and French; an Indian lady; a Chinese chap and a young Englishman. All of them are what our diverse country needs. The Conservative party will be electable when their bums and their like are on the green benches and, later, the red benches. Having said which, I have my doubts about the Chinese candidate for my constituency. I have yet to meet him but his website has typos which are inexcusable when he seeks to be a legislator and the party website does not mention him, it still has the 2017 candidate – not a good start.

Buddenbrooks

Most of fund managers’ reports I read are formulaic and dry. Personal Assets’ quarterly reports, authored by Robin Angus, are always interesting. His latest, September, quotes from The Pickwick Papers, The Sound of Music and Buddenbrooks. I had never heard of Thomas Mann’s first novel that garnered him a Nobel Prize and has at least three film versions and a TV series.

“Buddenbrooks is a 1901 novel by Thomas Mann, chronicling the decline of a wealthy north German merchant family over the course of four generations, incidentally portraying the manner of life and mores of the Hanseaticbourgeoisie in the years from 1835 to 1877. Mann drew deeply from the history of his own family, the Mann family of Lübeck, and their milieu.” (Wikipedia)

Here is Robin’s quote from the novel: “The liquidation of the business … took a most deplorable course … The pending business was disposed of on hurried and unfavourable terms. One precipitate and disadvantageous sale followed another … and so the losses piled up”. Investors in Neil Woodford’s funds will wryly reflect that a novel written in 1901 is just as relevant today.