The Man With Two Left Feet / Carry On, Jeeves

There are at least three beginnings to the Jeeves & Bertie saga.

The first beginning occurred with a short story called "Extricating Young Gussie", first published in the Saturday Evening Post on 18 September 1915, and reprinted in the collection The Man With Two Left Feet and Other Stories in 1917. The narrator is certainly called Bertie, and he has a man called Jeeves and an aunt called Agatha. But Bertie's surname appears to be Mannering-Phipps, and Jeeves does absolutely nothing to save the young master from the soup, confining himself to announcing people and bringing in the tea. So the elements are there, but not mixed properly as yet.

Here's the cover of the Penguin edition of the book:

 

I would not say this was one of Ionicus's most inspired covers; but it does the job, and is especially good at suggesting an unpleasantly crowded dance floor. (A much more joyous and attractive depiction of a night club occurs on the cover of Pearls, Girls and Monty Bodkin. But that's a discussion for another time.) The publishing history suggests this cover dated from 1978. The typography comes into its own with such a long title, and I find the arrangement of the words strangely pleasing.

As with Tales of St Austin's, the font is not specified. But this is what it looked like:

The next beginning of the Saga, which is really the true beginning because it includes the revelation of Jeeves's braininess, was a short story called "Leave It to Jeeves", published in the Saturday Evening Post on 5 February 1916. It appeared in volume form in My Man Jeeves (1917). Strictly speaking, this volume is irrelevant to our muttons, as Ionicus never illustrated the cover; but no matter. I have an early Penguin edition, printed in September 1936 (and it is startling to reflect that The Code of the Woosters did not even exist at that time). Here is the cover (a flimsy paper jacket which covered the similar card cover):

And this is the start of "Leave It to Jeeves" in that volume (font unknown):

While I'm on the subject, and for no especial reason except that I think it's interesting, I might as well include this, the blurb from the back of the paper cover which includes a nice pic of PGW in a rather fetching jumper:

So, moving on. My Man Jeeves includes four Jeeves stories, the remainder of the volume being filled with four stories narrated by a silly ass called Reggie Pepper. Later, Wodehouse clearly felt he had missed a trick, and when he brought out Carry On, Jeeves in 1925 he reissued the Jeeves stories ("Leave It to Jeeves" being reworked as "The Artistic Career of Corky"), rewrote some of the Reggie Pepper stories as Jeeves and Bertie, and added a couple of new ones.

Here's the Ionicus cover. I have two copies of this, so I am taking the opportunity to show you both spines: one still in pristine orange condition and one faded in the sun of thirty or so summers:

 Now, the cover of this is excellent, showing off Ionicus's skill in depicting interior décor and also effectively illustrating one of the iconic moments in comic literature: Jeeves introduces himself to Bertie. This is the third beginning of the saga, and probably the most important in the reader's mind. The story "Jeeves Takes Charge" is an origin tale, written after Wodehouse had realised what he had got himself into.

The book is set in Garamond:

Before we finish, I'd like to take a moment to show how, when Ionicus was at his best, he was capable of getting everything right. This is Wodehouse's description of the moment depicted:

Bertie is struggling with Types of Ethical Theory, as who wouldn't? The book is in his hand. Jeeves is "darkish" (and, by the way, I have sometimes wondered if Wodehouse was deliberately using one of the many early 20th century code words to show Jeeves was perhaps Jewish?)... and Bertie is in his usual attitude of startlement (but does not appear absolutely imbecile as in some depictions). Jeeves's pristine appearance contrasts nicely with Bertie's civilised dishevellation. The rack of canes, umbrellas and golf-clubs is a beautiful touch. As I have mentioned before, the situation is comic but the treatment should be, and is, serious: it's a solemn moment for all those concerned.

And all this was only the beginning.