Soothe the soul
PG Wodehouse has been essential reading during the pandemic because his books offer “the balm your soul needs in these troubled times”, I learn from Tim Andrew, the chairman of the PG Wodehouse Society. He tells me the society has launched an essay competition with a special appeal to Indian fans of the great author to submit between 4,000 and 5,000 words aimed at examining Wodehouse’s mastery of the English language. Closing date for entries, which have to be emailed to the society, is September 1, 2022. The winner gets £1,000, with a £250 prize for under-19s who have a word count of 1,500.
Andrew is aware that Wodehouse “is enormously popular in India. I think Shashi Tharoor has speculated that part of the reason is that Wodehouse is mildly subversive — apart from people very obviously enjoying the wordplay.” Tharoor, who ran a PG Wodehouse appreciation society as a student at St Stephen’s College, Delhi, should definitely submit an essay. He once wrote a piece in The Guardian, stating that “PG Wodehouse is by far the most popular English-language writer in India, his readership exceeding that of Agatha Christie or John Grisham”.
The entry rules are on the society’s website. Nevertheless, Andrew wants me to pass on this message to people in India: “We don’t want pastiche. We want serious scholarship. We ask essayists to focus on Wodehouse’s novels, stories, plays and journalism — not his life and background. We hope the essays will throw scholarly new light on aspects of Plum’s writing.”
Although I am under strict instructions at home not to buy any more books, last week I couldn’t resist ordering Wodehouse At The Wicket: A Cricketing Anthology.
Cherished memory
Gary Sobers. Wikimedia Commons
As children in Patna, we were told not to strut around with our shirt collar pulled up because only “loafers” in Hindi cinema did that. But when I came to England, I found that Gary Sobers, perhaps the greatest all-rounder of all time, did just that irrespective of whether he was batting, bowling or fielding. He was the sort of West Indian who would be at the wicket when you went to school and still be there when you got back home at teatime, having scored a century in the intervening period.
Now 85, he featured prominently in all the British papers last week because he is “very sad” the government in his home island of Barbados has ditched the Queen as head of state and declared itself a republic after 400 years of having been a constitutional monarchy. “It was a bit of a shock,” he lamented. I must say I am a little shocked at his views. It’s a bit like Sourav saying that all things considered he wished the British hadn’t left in 1947.
As The Daily Telegraph reported, “Sir Gary had the rare distinction of being knighted for his services to cricket without having to leave his hometown, after the Queen flew
to Barbados for an extraordinary open-air investiture watched by a crowd of tens of thousands in 1975, a year after he retired.” Still, I can understand Sobers walking down memory lane: “It was really tremendous because I think she hadn’t really gone to any other country to confer a knighthood... What a great honour it was... The Queen always turned up at Lord’s to watch the West Indies. I was very fortunate because on the occasions when they came to watch, I somehow performed.”
Popular name
The Ajaz Patel versus Axar Patel encounter in the India-New Zealand Test in Mumbai has had particular resonance in the United Kingdom, which has a flourishing Patel population. What came to mind was a cricket match I was watching on a lazy summer afternoon many years ago between two schools in south London — Dulwich College Preparatory School and Dulwich College (which, incidentally, has a library named after its most famous pupil, PG Wodehouse).
At one point, the scorer asked: “Bowler’s name?” The answer wafted back on the breeze: “Patel.” There was a change of bowler at the other end. “Bowler’s name?” the scorer requested. “Patel,” was the reply. “I’ve already got that,” said the scorer. “No, no,” assured whoever was replying, “this is another Patel.”
In fact, I discovered Patel was the most common surname at Dulwich College, one of London’s best-known fee-paying schools, which seems to be quite popular with Gujarati parents. Today we have a Patel in the cabinet as home secretary — Priti Patel.
Leading lady
Gita Gopinath, who announced her retirement as the chief economist of the International Monetary Fund, was soon appointed the organization’s first deputy managing director and has now made the Financial Times’s list of the “25 most influential women of 2021”. Explaining the FT’s choice, Minouche Shafik, director of the London School of Economics, said, “She is driven by evidence and rigour, and that often means she thinks differently on issues ranging from managing international capital flows to the impact of climate change”, adding that “Gita... could take bold positions on big macroeconomic issues without being macho”.
Footnote
A scene from the stage adaption of Life of Pi. YouTube screengrab
The hottest ticket for Indians who find themselves in London is the stage adaptation of Yann Martel’s Booker Prize-winning Life of Pi, which I have now seen, and I concur with all the rave reviews — “dazzling” (Evening Standard); “out-and-out triumph” (Time Out); and “a consummate family show” (The Daily Telegraph). I found it magical, with part of the credit going to Lolita Chakrabarti’s script.
