Happy 128th P.G. Wodehouse!

P.G. Wodehouse, the prolific English writer who has written everything from novels to theatre, would have been 128 years old today, if he lived. My acquaintance with him comes rather accidentally and quite unplanned. You see, while I have heard of the name, I had no idea what sort of books he wrote, just that we wrote a fair sum.

One fine day, I visited a warehouse book sale, with the intention of buying hardcovers that I liked, old or new. The likes of which are difficult to obtain in Malaysia and if you do find any being imported, they are likely to be from super-popular writers such as Grisham, Cornwell and gang. You'd be hard pressed to find a hardcover literary novel in local bookstores. Anyway, it was there that I found a 2007 reprint of a Wodehouse in hardcover.

Original 1925 Cover of the book I have - Sam The Sudden
(Taken from PGWodehousebooks.com)

I got it for a steal (about RM7 I think) and went home with it, my boyfriend and I have both read that book by now. While I liked his quirky humour because I have always had a thing for British humour, I do not always understand why but I enjoy it anyway. My boyfriend, however, is not too keen on Sir Wodehouse's words.

In any case, the fact that his books are still in circulation today is a testament to its quality and how reflective his writing was of his time. They may not be Austens but they are still an enjoyable read on a nice balmy summer afternoon, no?