Leonora Wodehouse: A short bibliography

In 1928 P. G. Wodehouse's stepdaughter Leonora decided to try her hand at writing. She described the circumstances in the brief autobiography that accompanied her 1931 article "The Mysterious Affair of the Skyscraper" thus:

Beverl[e]y Nichols said that to get something published you had to have some sort of a flair for writing. So we had a bet on it and I wrote my first article for the Evening Standard, proving I s'pose that anything, however bad, can be published. [...] The only magazines I've written for are Harper's Bazaar and the American, and the Strand in England, oh and the American Sketch here.

Here follows a list of all the essays and stories published under her own name or with a pseudonym that I have been able to find, with links to digitized copies (most of them, I'm afraid, behind paywalls) and other sources.

• My Public, The Evening Standard (UK), August 2, 1928
  (short humorous essay, evidently her first: it begins "Those are the first words I have ever written for publication, and it is a very grand sensation.")
• I'm Glad I'm Not a Man, The Evening Standard (UK), September 15, 1928
  (another short essay)
• P. G. Wodehouse at Home, The Strand Magazine (UK), January 1929
  (published at Madame Eulalie here)
• Myself as I Think Others See Me, The Queen (UK), November 27, 1929
  (essay)
• Where I Mean to Spend My Honeymoon, Harper's Bazaar (US), January 1930
  (humorous short story)
• The Mysterious Affair of the Skyscraper, The Jersey Journal (US), March 28, 1931
  (essay; earliest found among among many reprints)
• What His Daughter Thinks About P. G. Wodehouse, The American Magazine (US), December 1931
  (abridged and slightly rewritten version of "at Home" above)
• Inquest, The Strand Magazine (UK), April 1932
  (detective story, signed "Loel Yeo"; collected in D. L. Sayers' 1935 anthology The Third Omnibus of Crime)
• Poor Old Deadly Sins—They've Lost Their Glamour!, Liverpool Evening Express (UK), March 8, 1934
  (essay)

The list is probably incomplete; I will update it if any new material turns up. As can be seen, in the paragraph quoted above she left out the Queen article, and mentioned the American Sketch, a society magazine edited at the time by Beverley Nichols. I haven't been able to find any issues of this, but excerpts from "I'm Glad" appeared in some newspapers in February 1929; since one of them gives as its source "the current American Sketch" this must be later than its appearance in the Evening Standard in September 1928. Still, there may be other contributions left to discover in the Sketch.

It is not clear yet what contribution to the American Magazine she is referring to, since "What His Daughter" appeared in December 1931, many months later than "Skyscraper." Her father wrote to D. Mackail on April 12, 1931 (Yours, Plum, p. 80):

[Leonora] wrote a short story and sent it in to the American Magazine without any name on it, so that it got no pull from the fact that I am writing for the American, and each of the four editors sent it on with enthusiastic comments, and they bought it for $300 and want lots more. She also sold an article for $150.
She really can write like blazes, and, thank goodness, is now very keen on it. Her stuff has a terrific amount of charm, and she has only got to stick to it to do awfully well.

Contributions to the American for that period are generally signed and their authors well identified at the FictionMags Index, and I haven't been able to pinpoint any likely candidate. Of course, it is possible that the story was paid for but never actually used. It may even be the same as "Inquest," only published in the UK. In any case, when the full text of the magazine for 1931 enters the public domain at the end of the year I intend to examine a few stories more closely.

It is only natural that she should be concerned that her articles weren't being accepted on their own merits. "My Public," for example, presents the writer as "daughter of P. G. Wodehouse, the novelist, who has decided to follow in her father's footsteps," and "I'm Glad" as "Daughter of P. G. Wodehouse, the Famous Novelist." So "Inquest," her longest work and the only "serious" narrative found so far, was published under the pseudonym "Loel Yeo," whose identity remained a mystery for decades. As noted above, it was first singled out by D. L. Sayers and kept being included in anthologies, including E. Lee, Murder Mixture (1963), J. G. M. Merson, Nine Detective Stories (1964), J. Adrian, Detective Stories from the Strand (1991), R. Collings, A Body in the Library (1991), and M. Edwards, Serpents in Eden (2016). As far as I know, the first to reveal the identity of the author was B. Phelps in P. G. Wodehouse: Man and Myth (1990), p. 112, but Adrian in his 1991 anthology missed that. He wrote (p. 214):

About Loel Yeo no information is to be gleaned apart from the fact that he (she?) wrote a single story, 'Inquest', for the Strand in 1932. Perhaps the author was the same Yeo (no given name appended) who published a number of light sketches on the war (gathered from the Daily Mail, Punch, and Outlook) under the title Soldier Man in 1917? And perhaps not. Loel Yeo does not appear to have written anything else for any other magazine of the day, and this, to say the least, is odd. Whoever he was, and whether or not Loel Yeo was his real name (anagrammatically, it doesn't make much sense), he could write. And not merely competently, either. There is assurance in the style, an authoritative building-up of tension, convincing characterization, a telling use of irony. No wonder Dorothy L. Sayers, a fine judge of good writing, snapped 'Inquest' up in 1934 [...]

His conjecture about the 1917 "Yeo" was way off the mark, but his praise would have made Wodehouse burst with paternal pride. Criticism of the story was always unanimously positive, even enthusiastic. Reviewing Adrian's anthology, K. Schactman wrote in Scarlet Street, Fall 1993:

Finally, Adrian presents us with an unsolved mystery—namely, the true identity of the author of "Inquest." The name "Loel Yeo" pops up once as the name of the author of this story and is never heard from again. Adrian has searched other magazines in vain, and has even tried using the name as an anagram, to no avail. He cannot believe that the wit, style, and substance shown in "Inquest" were whipped up as a one-shot deal, and neither can I. My best guess is that some literary giant, publicly disdainful of the genre, created it, but who? Here is a case demanding some genuine detective work. Happy hunting!

Similarly E. Dorall in New Straits Times, March 26, 1994:

Only 'Inquest' by an unknown writer, Loel Yeo, whose sole work of fiction this seems to be, is a total success. A simple but perfect crime story, it is stylistically, in its telling use of irony and building up of tension, probably the best piece in the volume.

And several others, all along the same lines.

———

I started collecting this material some months ago, and until last week I thought that Leonora had stopped writing after her marriage to Peter Cazalet in late 1932, naturally absorbed by her familial and social obligations. The discovery of "Deadly Sins" from 1934 proved me wrong, and opened up the possibility that there are yet more articles and stories to be unearthed from the thirties and maybe even early forties. All the ones I have read so far are certainly worth the archaeological effort. They show, in varying degrees, some of the qualities justly recognized in "Inquest," and deserve to be better known and perhaps collected and republished at some point.

(Special thanks to Ananth K. for his help in getting access to several of these items.)

Ukridge: a variorum edition

 Ukridge (variorum edition, PDF)

Ukridge (UK) / He Rather Enjoyed It (US) is the second story collection and the seventh book overall for which I have completed a variorum edition. Once more, it was greatly facilitated by previous work done by the Madame Eulalie team on the magazine versions of these stories.

It is well known that their texts are broadly divided into two groups: the Cosmopolitan versions on one hand, and the Strand versions on the other which were used as the base for all book editions. This is reflected in the apparatus, where the Cs will be seen to predominate. Still, the changes introduced in both first editions and in later British editions have some interest.

I have also formatted into a publishable form the long tables of textual differences that I always compile before putting together a variorum edition. For the moment they are available in the Drafts & WIP page linked on the right; with time I hope to have a separate page with a proper introduction. They are sometimes incomplete, and the information is essentially the same as that provided by the variorums, but they offer an overview of the relationships between the texts that is not as evident in the continuous text.

Dedicated to P. G. Wodehouse

Some weeks ago Madame Eulalie inaugurated a Books section, which included some interesting extended dedications from Wodehouse's early books. This made me wonder about people who had in turn dedicated their books to him, and I started hunting around for those. What follows is a list, most likely incomplete, of books dedicated to Wodehouse during his lifetime, with links to online copies when available, and to reliable sources when not. I will probably update this list as new examples come to my notice.

A few of these, like Agathe Christie, are well known, while others I had never heard of. Some of Wodehouse's personal and professional relationships with other authors, like Ian Hay or Gerald Fairlie, are documented in his biographies or correspondence, and attested by the dedications themselves. In other cases one may assume that the dedication was inspired by a general admiration of his books, without a personal connection.

1912 Leslie Havergal Bradshaw, The Right Sort (see R. Usborne, "New P. G. Wodehouse Material"):

To P. G. Wodehouse, the right sort.

———

1925 Edgar Wallace, A King by Night:

To my friend P. G. Wodehouse

———

1925 Edgar Wallace, The Gaunt Stranger (see W. O. G. Lofts and D. Adley, British Bibliography of Edgar Wallace):

To my friend P. G. Wodehouse

———

1930 Compton Mackenzie, April Fools:

To P. G. WODEHOUSE

My dear Plummy,
A short while ago you told me you were re-reading Poor Relations. With that in mind I am venturing to dedicate the sequel to you. But, of course, the real reason for writing your name on this page is that I want to be registered as one of your most devoted readers and to sign myself in admiration

Yours gratefully,

Compton Mackenzie

———

1931 Gerald Fairlie, The Man with Talent:

Dedication

For P. G. Wodehouse because of many happy hours with Plum before ever I knew him.

———

1934 Ian Hay, David and Destiny:

To

my friend

P. G. Wodehouse

under whose remorseless goadings I have at last contrived to finish this book after seven years of labour grievously interrupted by periodical excursions (thrice in his company) into other and more frivolous fields of endeavour

———

1937 Anthony Berkeley, Trial and Error:

To P. G. Wodehouse

———

1960 Agatha Christie, Hallowe'en Party:

To P. G. Wodehouse——
whose books and stories have brightened my life for many years. Also, to show my pleasure in his having been kind enough to tell me that he enjoys my books.

———

1970 Douglas Enefer, The Deadline Dolly:

To P. G. Wodehouse
for the unending pleasure
of all his books

"P.G.W." in the Malvernian

The Malvernian is the school magazine of Malvern College in Malvern, Worcestershire, England (not to be confused with Malvern House, which P. G. Wodehouse attended between 1891 and 1893). A complete run of digitized copies is available at the College's website here.

The April 1901 issue contains a humorous article on country cricket, signed "P.G.W." Here it is in its entirety:

COUNTRY CRICKET.

"A chiel's amang ye takin' notes."

At last the task is completed! After a searching analysis we have divided country cricket into its component parts; reduced it, in fact, to the level of a formula. It has taken us many a summer holiday, but the deed is done, and we are at length able, with a heart swelling with proper pride, to offer the following facts for family consumption, with the assurance that they are not only scientifically correct, but wholly free from alkaloid and all other such deleterious ingredients.

To proceed, then. The first essential item in the village team is The Wag, the second, "Charles, his friend." The Wag is in nine cases out of ten the local Doctor—why, we cannot say, unless it be that a constant attendance at beds of sickness promotes a cheerful frame of mind.

In the event of the Doctor scratching for this post, the Curate is generally enrolled: though he is not quite so efficient as the disciple of Æsculapius, in that his jokes are apt to be less broad. Moreover, he will probably have certain scruples as to the exchanging of airy badinage with chance passers-by, the which should be the Wag's chief source of waggishness.

We now come to "Charles, his friend." He is an indispensable item. It must not be thought that, because his conversational powers are limited to a raucous laugh, he is therefore no help to the conversation. Far from it. A raucous laugh is a very present help in time of trouble, and what the Wag would do without Charles, we shudder to think.

Next the Captain. This onerous position generally falls to the lot of the Curate, the poor man being, in cases of emergency, obliged to sustain the posts of Captain and Wag simultaneously. The Captain may be distinguished by the profanum vulgus by the fact that he goes on to bowl first, and (please read this slowly and thoughtfully: it is an epigram) never comes off whether he comes off or not. Men may come and men may go at the other end with all the variety of a kaleidoscope, but he goes on for ever. It is, perhaps, superfluous to add that he can only bowl with wind and hill in his favour. When it is the turn of his side to bat, he naturally goes in first, "to give his men confidence."

Finally, the Hero. Every village team has its hero. He is generally a man who has failed ignominiously to justify his inclusion in a weak "Colts" Eleven, and is for that reason an object of veneration to all. He goes in first with the Captain, and shares the trundling with him, The rest of the team may be ranked as "villagers and retainers," after the fashion of Stageland.

P.G.W.

Naturally one wonders if "P.G.W." stands for P. G. Wodehouse. More precisely, if it stands for Pelham Grenville Wodehouse the humorist, because even "P. G. Wodehouse" in this case wouldn't narrow it down enough, as we will see below.

Summer Lightning: a variorum edition

Summer Lightning (variorum edition, PDF)

Summer Lightning (Fish Preferred in the US) is the sixth variorum edition I've completed. As in previous occasions, it benefited greatly from the work done by the Madame Eulalie team to edit and publish the magazine versions of this novel a couple of years ago.

There is not much to say in this introduction. Beyond it size and the number of footnotes needed, Summer Lightning has not been a particularly challenging text to edit, since the changes are straightforward and the novel did not undergo any major revisions. The apparatus shows that most of these are reduced to simple deletions in the American magazine version (Collier's). The rest are mainly slight improvements in wording made to the British magazine (Pall Mall), which I take to be the earliest redaction published. One exception of interest involves a few changes clearly made to fix a minor contradiction in the narrative, concerning Sue Brown's arrival at Blandings and her first meeting with Ronnie Fish.

I've also taken the opportunity to update all the variorum editions completed so far, with minor corrections. The latest versions are always downloadable from the Editions page on the right.

Alphonse the Page

The annotations to A Damsel in Distress offer two possible explanations for this short exchange between George Bevan and Maud's page Albert:

"'Ullo!" said the youth.
"Hullo, Alphonso!" said George.
"My name's not Alphonso."
"Well, you be very careful or it soon may be."

The initial suggestion was that this was a reference to W. S. Gilbert's poem "The Modest Couple," first published in Fun on August 8, 1868, which Wodehouse knew well and quoted elsewhere. However, there doesn't seem to be too much common ground for connecting Gilbert's character with Albert: his Alphonso is not a stereotypical page, but a young suitor full of self-confidence.

As an alternative I brought up a scene in Dickens' Nicholas Nickelby, where a boy who "carried plain Bill in his face and figure" and is in the service of a lady of quality is re-christened "Alphonse" and dressed in the many-buttoned uniform of a page. This is exactly the situation Albert is in in Wodehouse's novel, justifying George's warning. At the time I thought this was conclusive.

There is more to it though, because lately I've found out that Dickens' passage is not alone. In summary, just as "Jane" was a generic name for housemaids, there appears to have been a tradition of renaming pages as "Alphonse/Alphonso." This may be first documented in Nicholas Nickleby but extends even into the twentieth century. In what follows I will put together the traces of evidence I have collected so far.

Tales of Saint Austin's: a variorum edition

Tales of St. Austin's (variorum edition, PDF)

This is the fifth edition of its kind I've completed. It has been in the works for some time, but I couldn't make up my mind to finish and publish it, partly because I'm concentrating on the early novels rather than the short story collections, but mostly because I do not have access to the first but only to the 1923 edition, which according to McIlvaine's bibliography was reset, and so may contain differences. However, it is not certain tha I will ever get a chance to take a look at the 1903 edition, so I decided that there was no point in postponing this one indefinitely.

The work in this case has been considerably simpler than in all previous occasions. Although here one has to sort out publications from different magazines, the changes between all but one of the texts are few an straighforward; all the magazine versions are perfectly described and transcribed at Madame Eulalie; and there was no early American edition of the book to complicate matters.

The exception in the case is the long story or novella "The Manoeuvres of Charteris." Other stories present between no and twelve significant changes between the magazine text and their final book version; "The Manoeuvres," in contrast, had about 500: you can see that the apparatus for that section of this file takes one third of the page, whereas in the rest you find only two of three notes per page, and not a few perfectly "clean" pages. Some of the changes on the longer story are substantial, such as added or deleted sentences or paragraphs, but many are changes of expression, slight improvements and minimal adjustments in word order. My personal impression, without other support than the observation of these changes, is that Wodehouse re-typed "The Manoeuvres" and rewrote freely whenever he saw he could enhance the text; while for the rest of the stories the editor worked either from the original manuscript, a typist's copy of it, or the magazine texts, where the author may pencil in some necessary corrections but could hardly make the huge number of alterations observed here.

[Some notes on sources for the artists that illustrated these stories in magazines: not because they are relevant to this textual study, but because this information is not always easy to find, so I thought I would put together these links here.

• R. Noel Pocock and T. M. R. Whitwell, whose magazine illustrations eventually made it into the book editions of Wodehouse's early stories, aren't included in standard reference books, but fortunately there exists this incredible blog devoted to the history of British illustrators, which contains invaluable information abot each (Pocock, Whitwell).
• E. F. (Edward Frederick) Skinner seems to be the hardest to find anything about, but at least there is a short entry in S. Houfe, The Dictionary of British Book Illustrators and Caricaturists, 1800-1914.
• Savile Lumley is the best known of the four, with his own Wikipedia article, entries in B. Peppin, Book Illustrators of the Twentieth Century (link) and M. Bryant, Dictionary of Twentieth Century British Cartoonists and Caricaturists (link), and another great blog entry.]