Mike
1909
Mike Jackson is headed to Wrykyn, and he's terrified. His two older brothers are cricket legends at the school, and the entire family expects young Mike to continue the dynasty. The pressure is suffocating before he even arrives. But Wrykyn has a way of reshaping expectations, and what begins as a boy struggling to escape his brothers' shadow becomes something far more complicated and hilarious. Wodehouse, who considered this his finest work, infuses every chapter with the particular anguish of a boy trying to forge his own identity in a world that only sees him as a continuation of someone else. The cricket scenes are gorgeous, the school politics razor-sharp, and the supporting cast, from the family's bemused professional coach to the masters who can't quite place Mike, keep the comedy bubbling. It's a school story that somehow manages to be both affectionate about its genre and bitingly funny about the absurdity of growing up in the shadow of excellence.
Editions
X-Ray
“As an energetic Socialist, I do my best to see the good that is in him, but it's hard. Comrade Bristow's the most striking argument against the equality of man I've ever come across.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“The first thing to do,' said Psmith, 'is to ascertain that such a place as Clapham Common really exists. One has heard of it, of course, but has its existence ever been proved? I think not.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“All political meetings are very much alike. Somebody gets up and introduces the speaker of the evening, and then the speaker of the evening says at great length what he thinks of the scandalous manner in which the Government is behaving or the iniquitous goings-on of the Opposition. From time to time confederates in the audience rise and ask carefully rehearsed questions, and are answered fully and satisfactorily by the orator. When a genuine heckler interrupts, the orator either ignores him, or says haughtily that he can find him arguments but cannot find him brains. Or, occasionally, when the question is an easy one, he answers it. A quietly conducted political meeting is one of England's most delightful indoor games. When the meeting is rowdy, the audience has more fun, but the speaker a good deal less.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“London was too big to be angry with. It took no notice of him. It did not care whether he was glad to be there or sorry, and there was no means of making it care. That is the peculiarity of London. There is a sort of cold unfriendliness about it. A city like New York makes the new arrival feel at home in half an hour; but London is a specialist in what Psmith in his letter had called the Distant Stare. You have to buy London’s good-will.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“What are you doing here? What have you come for?' 'Work,' said Psmith, with simple dignity. 'I am now a member of the staff of this bank. Its interests are my interests. Psmith, the individual, ceases to exist, and there springs into being Psmith, the cog in the wheel of the New Asiatic Bank; Psmith, the link in the bank's chain; Psmith, the Worker. I shall not spare myself,' he proceeded earnestly. 'I shall toil with all the accumulated energy of one who, up till now, has only known what work is like from hearsay. Whose is that form sitting on the steps of the bank in the morning, waiting eagerly for the place to open? It is the form of Psmith, the Worker. Whose is that haggard, drawn face which bends over a ledger long after the other toilers have sped blithely westwards to dine at Lyons' Popular Cafe? It is the face of Psmith, the Worker.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“The Problem of Life seemed to him to be solved. He looked on down the years, and he could see no troubles there of any kind whatsoever. Reason suggested that there were probably one or two knocking about somewhere, but this was no time to think of them. He examined the future, and found it good.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“One of the many things Mike could never understand in Psmith was his fondness for getting into atmospheres that were not his own. He would go out of his way to do this. Mike, like most boys of his age, was never really happy and at his ease except in the presence of those of his own years and class. Psmith, on the contrary, seemed to be bored by them, and infinitely preferred talking to somebody who lived in quite another world.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
“He scattered his aitches as a fountain its sprays in a strong wind. He was very earnest.””
— P. G. Wodehouse
