The immortal valet, Jeeves, shimmers to Bertie Wooster's assistance time and again in these side-splittingly funny tales. Whether saving a cabinet minister from a marauding swan, rescuing Bertie's chums from bowls of proverbial soup, or arranging unhingeing performances of 'Sonny Boy', Jeeves' genius (and Wodehouse's) is unparalleled. Especially concerning the extraordinary incident of the punctured hot-water bottle! Tuppy Glossop, Bingo Little, Sippy Sipperly, even Bertie's formidable Aunt Agatha - all have reason to be grateful to Jeeves. But Jeeves' greatest achievements is, of course, in saving Bertie from himself.
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Goodness know what original Audible is using for this. We get alternating half hours of either some dense, slowed down speech (as if an overtight tape was being used), or else a more brighter 30 mins. Jonathan Cecil, as usual, cannot be faulted, but if I'd bought this on tape from a shop, I'd have been taking it back to be exchanged as faulty.
Touching on the matter of ?Very Good, Jeeves?, in it?s audio form, by Mr P. G. Wodehouse. First on it?s good points, I think. Written the year Blenheim won the Epsom Derby, ?Very Good, Jeeves? is the third set of short stories concerning Wooster, that monocled bloke you sometimes see in the Drones? Smoking Room, and his man, Jeeves. There are eleven tales, plus a short intro and all are brilliantly put together with the usual, hand-polished, characters. Dangerously flame-lidded Roberta Wickham makes an appearance, as does Bingo Little, Tuppy Glossop, young Thos and those formidable aunts; Agatha and Dalia. All the troubled H2O is oiled, as ever, by that splendid cove Jeeves, in mid-season form and with his fish-fuelled brain sloshing over the sides of his head.
Nor is there anything to complain about in the choice of Jonathan Cecil as narrator, as this is the name I always scan for on the outer layer of a Wodehouse audio effort. No, the downside of the whole thing is the quality of the recording. It sounds as if Mr. Cecil were experimenting madly with his medium; twenty minutes from beneath the bedclothes is followed by twenty minutes whilst frying bacon, ten minutes in a slow drawl then a stanza or two spoken through comb and paper. All a bit avant-garde and so alien to Cecil?s usual narrative style that I suspect an audio illusion. In fact the more I think about it, the more I suspect that what has actually happened is that Audible have, in fact, copied this from the last ever magnetic tape version, from the sale bin of a very long established public lending library.
So, in summary, definitely worth it if you can stand to be constantly knob-twiddling at the graphically equalising doo-dah of your phonograph, but would have been a joy had the master tapes been used.