A homage to Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse, one of Britain’s greatest ever writers, was held at Wilton’s Music Hall and hosted by one of Wodehouse’s greatest fans, Sir Stephen Fry, writes Michael Holland.
Most of us know Wodehouse through his Jeeves and Wooster books, some of us stretch to having heard Empress of Blandings stories on the radio, the fictional pig at the centre of many books about Blandings Castle and Lord Emsworth.
I was shocked to find that Wodehouse cracked America with blockbuster musicals on Broadway, wrote with Jerome Kern and Guy Bolton; earnt a fortune writing for Hollywood and moved to France for tax reasons after Britain and the U.S. both wanted to tax him. Unfortunately, Wodehouse was captured by the invading Germans and interned for a year.
The 50th Anniversary of his death was now being celebrated with skits and readings from his most beloved books by people who had come to love him through playing his characters. Stephen Mangan and Alexander Armstrong joined Fry on stage for most parts to act out scenes, read from letters, diaries and books.
One poignant moment was when Stephen Fry read a beautiful passage about the countryside’s flora and fauna. At the finish we were informed Wodehouse was just 5-years-old when he wrote that.
We are led through the ups and downs of P.G. Wodehouse’s life from writing stories about schools as a young man, marrying the love of his life, Ethel, and, of course, his prolific writing of novels, plays and songs. The Simon Beck Quartet provided the music for the song and dance numbers of Wodehouse songs; the most memorable being You’re The Tops and Anything Goes, as well as several comedy songs.
All Wodehouse’s main characters were depicted for our delectation: Aunt Agatha was in full cry; Bertie Wooster at his most imbecilic, and Jeeves at his most imperious. Such joy was to be had from seeing them brought to life again.
It was a night of pleasant surprise and a little sadness with the tale of his being tricked into recording some comedic broadcasts for German radio while he was interned, which were heard in Britain and divided the nation between the hostile and the supportive. It was an incident that marred the memory of Wodehouse and followed him forever, even though he had done nothing wrong or illegal. ‘`I was foolish to do it,’ he says in an interview with Malcom Muggeridge that was projected onto the Wilton’s wall.
It seemed as if the evening was going to end on a sad note but then, like the opening of a Ziegfeld Follies, the dancers skipped on stage with pizzazz, razzamatazz and jazz hands for a rousing reprisal of Anything Goes for the final bows of all those that took part in this Wodehouse Extravaganza.
He had only wanted to bring happiness to the world, and he certainly did that.
