Golf Stories

Annette had been busy at her piano when the knocking coming from the room above finally wrenched her mind from composing her music. Aha! The unseen brute obviously disliked her playing and intimated his views with his boot heel. Insulted, she struck the piano's loud pedal. His reply: Bang! Bang! Bang! This little incident from "The Man Upstairs" is just one of the many capers that P. G. Wodehouse humorously portrays in this collection, which includes nineteen of Wodehouse's delightful pre—World War II short stories. Though these tales are decades old, such was Wodehouse's amiable genius that they have not aged a bit. Like ancient crusted port, they have matured with the years, and perhaps only now can their timeless humor be savored with its full bouquet.

Our Introduction is actually several comments by author P. G. Wodehouse. He wrote: This book marks an epoch in my literary career. It is written in blood. It is the outpouring of a soul as deeply seared by Fate's unkindness as the fairway on the dog-leg hole of the second nine was ever seared by my iron. It is the work of a very nearly desperate man, an eighteen-handicap man who has got to look extremely slippy if he doesn't want to find himself in the twenties again. As a writer of light fiction, I have always till now been handicapped by the fact that my disposition was cheerful, my heart intact, and my life unsoured. Handicapped, I say, because the public likes to feel that a writer of farcical stories is piquantly miserable in his private life, and that, if he turns out anything amusing, he does it simply in order to obtain relief from the almost insupportable weight of an existence which he has long since realized to be a wash-out. Well, today I am just like that. Two years ago, I admit, I was a shallow farceur. My work lacked depth. I wrote so flippantly simply because I was having a thoroughly good time. Then I took up golf, and now I can smile through the tears and laugh, like Figaro, that I may not weep, and generally hold my head up and feel that I am entitled to respect. If you find anything in this volume that amuses you, kindly bear in mind that it was probably written on my return home after losing three balls in the gorse or breaking the head off a favorite driver. Thank you for your sympathy. It means more to me than I can say. Do you think that if I tried the square stance for a bit... But, after all, this cannot interest you. Leave me to my misery as you listen. It won't be surprising if you notice a few changes in the grand old game.

Who but P. G. Wodehouse could have extracted high comedy from the most noble and ancient game of golf? And who else could have combined this comedy with a real appreciation of the game, drawn from personal experience? Wodehouse's brilliant but human brand of humor is perfectly suited to these stories of love, rivalry, revenge, and fulfillment on the links. While the Oldest Member sits in the clubhouse quoting Marcus Aurelius on patience and wisdom, outside on the green the fiercest human passions burn. All kinds of human life are here, from the cocky professional Sandy McHoots to the shy Ramsden Waters, whose only consolation is golf. And then, of course, there is the young, handsome Cuthbert Banks, who-plus four on the Wood Hills links-cannot seem to win the affections of the girl who has won his heart. Even golf haters will not be able to resist these ten stories that so perfectly blend physical farce with verbal wit and a gallery of unforgettable characters.