The Charms of Psmith Shall Be Mine
Nothing short of small sharp crowbars keeps me from reading children's books and only children's books for pleasure these days. Now Oz and Ends and bookshelves of doom have conspired to inform me of a book that I simply must read and pronto. I've already placed a hold on it (though there are a paltry 2 copies in all the New York Public Library system). Growl. Fidget. Grumph.
Labels: Books for Adults, Our P.G. Woodhouse In the Middle of the Street, Psmith
posted by fusenumber8 @ 12:02 AM
4 Comments
4 Comments:
I've always been an Ukridge fan myself.
Love your tag for this.
I'm so glad you got that. Now, however, I'm singing the song that way in my brain.
Don't worry about falling off the kids'-book-only wagon. Wodehouse invented Psmith in his public-school novel Mike, later broken into the volumes Mike at Wrykyn and Mike and Psmith. So even though Psmith grows up into a young man, his roots lie like cress in the soil of children's literature.
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