The Ionicus scene is well chosen, showing Lord Emsworth (right), Mr Peters (centre) and the Efficient Baxter (left, back), as well as the object which is the motor of the entire plot, a Cheops Scarab of the Fourth Dynasty, pinched and re-pinched by the characters for their own ends until happiness can be achieved. The scene takes place in the cluttered museum room at the Castle, giving Ionicus plenty of opportunity to draw the furniture and other decorations that he so enjoyed. The figures are well depicted too, every character clear and correct. However, as sometimes happened he appears to have given up at the thought of doing the floor.
I'm taking this opportunity to include A Damsel in Distress (1919) as well, a less successful cover but still worthy of coverage in this ongoing survey:
A Damsel in Distress feels similar to the Blandings series, though it is not one of them, as the characters have different names and the setting is Hampshire, not the more northerly Shropshire. I seem to remember Wodehouse later saying that he regretted settling on Blandings for the series, as it was so remote from London - though that is part of its charm. (By the way: yes, this book was indeed the source for the later Gershwin/Astaire film of the same name.)
I was struck, on rereading Damsel a couple of months ago, by an odd thing. It is quite apparent that this book about England, written by an Englishman (indeed, the quintessential Englishman) is nevertheless rather American in tone. I'm aware that Wodehouse deliberately developed his style as a way of portraying England for Americans, but I don't think I have ever been so aware of this fact as I was in rereading this book.
For example, at the beginning of Chapter Two Wodehouse is describing a side street in the West End of London, and this is what he writes as narrator: "Cats washed themselves on doorsteps, preparatory to looking in for lunch at one of the numerous garbage cans which dotted the sidewalk." Garbage cans rather than dustbins, sidewalk and not pavement? PGW could hardly have made the point clearer.
The hero, George Bevan, is an American composer over in England to see his latest show through its West End production. Naturally, he falls in love, and follows the lady to her country retreat at Belpher Castle, Hants. This is how, in Chapter 7, Wodehouse describes the village in which George finds himself, and while the American references make greater sense now that we are viewing things from George's point of view, they're also clearly for the benefit of the American reader: "It is to be questioned whether in the whole length and breadth of the world there is a more admirable spot for a man in love to pass a day or two than the typical English village. The Rocky Mountains, that traditional stamping-ground for the heart-broken, may be well enough in their way; but a lover has to be cast in a pretty stern mould to be able to be introspective when at any moment he may meet an annoyed cinnamon bear. In the English village there are no such obstacles to meditation. It combines the comforts of civilization with the restfulness of solitude in a manner equalled by no other spot except the New York Public Library."
Ionicus sometimes had a weakness for depicting scenes from very near the end of a book, and indeed containing what we would now consider serious "spoilers". This is one of those illustrations. It is, without going into detail, the moment when the scales finally fall from the eyes of the heroine, paving the way for happy endings all round. The ill-favoured bounder on the right is a young solicitor passing over a summons for Breach of Promise, and doesn't really deserve the honour of being on the cover. Well, never mind.
