Leave it to Psmith
Ronald Psmith has a plan, and that plan involves impersonating a Canadian poet at a country house full of criminals. When he spots Eve Halliday caught in a downpour, he offers her an umbrella and loses his heart. To pursue her to Lord Emsworth's Blandings Castle, Psmith adopts the identity of Ralston McTodd, a mysterious poet - never mind that actual thieves are using that same name to steal a diamond necklace. What follows is Wodehouse at his most brilliantly absurd: midnight heists, flower pots through windows, a secretary in lemon-colored pajamas, and Psmith smooth-talking his way through every near-disaster. The 'p' is silent, as in pshrimp, and the charm is deafening. This is farce as high art - a mechanical plotting device that somehow feels like dancing.
