In Praise of a Plum

I don’t think anything in my life has afforded me more hours of mirth than Plum’s hilarious world of ludicrousness. I remember my mother raising her eyebrows in puzzlement at the sight of me chuckling over a book at mealtime – yes I have that bad habit of reading during a meal (at home of course). Dad would beam in understanding approval; it was he who introduced me to the loopy world of Plum. This was back in my college days. There was later, a period in my life when reading became an intermittent happening, dropping down to a cursory scan of newspapers and magazines. I was busy earning a living and raising a family. My dear mother is long gone but another woman raises her eyebrows in half surprise and half resignation at the sight of me chortling while I have my breakfast. Who else but my dear wife? I have again started re-reading Plum’s wonderful books; I did read most of them in my younger days. Reading them again after a gap of some years gives me an opportunity to sift through them slowly, savouring the riotous passages infinitely more than when I was in the habit of reading at a much quicker pace. I don’t think I have ever read such unique metaphors, similies, idioms and phrases in my life. As a wordsmith, he was second to none. Who else could write a line like – ‘there had come to his ears, the unmistakable sound of a Bishop sitting up in bed.’ Or take the description of a cat – ‘He had no music in his soul, and was fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils. One could picture him stealing milk from a sick tabby.’

As a teenager, I remember starting off with his school stories – Wrykyn in the company of Mike and Psmith (with the P silent), St.Austin and so on; and they were all that a young boy could ask for. Later, I graduated into his adult world. My early favourites were Wooster and Jeeves and the idyllic world of Blandings and Emsworth, eternally bullied by all and sundry. I began to listen in rapt attention to Mulliner’s incredible tales at the Angler’s Rest in the company of Mrs. Postlethwaite and innumerable Gin and Tonics, Lemonade and Angosturas, Pint of Bitters and so many more such regulars. Then there was Bingo Little who loved his flutters, who later married Rosie M.Banks, the writer of mushy romance. But the character that is my eternal favourite, among all these favourites, is that epitome of enterprise with his outrageously funny schemes – Stanley Featherstonehaugh (pronounced Fanshawe) Ukridge. From Prize-fighter Manager to Gambling Den Partner to Proprietor of a Poultry, he has done it all. And in the process introduced us to colourful characters like Battling Billson.

Of all the writers I hold close to my heart, Plum’s name leads the rest!