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Jeeves Resumes Charge (A Contribution to the Literature on Reading Nietzsche)
Philosophy and Literature ( IF 0.1 ) Pub Date : 2020-12-16 , DOI: 10.1353/phl.2020.0017
S. Subramanian

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • Jeeves Resumes Charge (A Contribution to the Literature on Reading Nietzsche)
  • S. Subramanian

The following is a sequel to the narrative "Jeeves Takes Charge," first published in the Saturday Evening Post of November 1916, in which Lady Florence Craye is reported to have plans for getting Bertie Wooster to read Nietzsche. The threat, in the present account, is executed. While it is not clear if the provenance of this sequel can actually be traced back to P. G. Wodehouse, the submitter has expressed the strong belief that the piece stands an excellent chance of turning out, at the least, to be a genuine forgery.

I

Correct me if I am wrong, but I have the distinct impression that I have mentioned the name Florence Craye before in these reminiscences of mine, if "reminiscences" is indeed the word I want for the sort of stuff that blokes record when they recall their life, as is so often the practice with the world's greatest writers, of whom two examples that readily come to mind are Marcel Proust and Bertram Wooster. Not, mind you, that [End Page 495] there is any real comparison between the two. I have it on the expert advice of two distinguished literary connoisseurs, Boko Fittleworth and Bingo Little, that if they absolutely had to choose between Proust's books and mine in the event that they should be condemned to spend the rest of their lives on an abandoned island, they'd choose mine. (Never mind why. But if you insist on knowing, the reason dished out by the two crassly materialistic young blighters is that—by virtue of my having written thirty or forty times as many books as Proust—my oeuvre, taken as a whole, would make for better and longer-lasting bonfires on chilly nights than the other fellow's. They said this, and followed it up with uncouth laughter. Such coarseness makes the artistic soul quiver to the foundations, but as one that is true to his calling I try to record life as it is, in all its grim and unsavory starkness.) Speaking of the grim starkness of life guides the distracted attention back to the unpleasant subject I started out with.

Not that this Craye was displeasing to the eye. Far from it. Tall and elegant and willowy and endowed with shining hazel eyes and blonde hair of a particularly vivid shade of platinum, not to mention a profile that no critic, however exacting his standards of perfection, could possibly cavil at, the wench was an eyeful. It was impossible for any normally constituted male heart not to be susceptible to such an ensemble. And that is where the trouble lay. Before he knew it, a bloke had laid his heart at her feet, and become engaged to her, only to regret bitterly the error of his ways. For Florence Craye, apart from possessing a stinker—the Earl of Worplesdon—for a father, was no mean stinker in her own right. She read books such as Types of Ethical Theory and had a dashed cold, imperious way of looking down on you if you preferred Edgar Wallace—which, you will grant, could be particularly hard on you if you had plighted your troth to her.

You will have some conception of the sheer horror of it all when I tell you, with sober deference to the truth, that Florence Craye was the ghastliest of all the women I have been engaged to—a list that includes such contenders for the top slot as Stiffy Byng, Honoria Glossop, and Madeline Bassett. Like the others, she was always handing me the mitten but also changing her mind so that, at any given moment, you were never quite sure if you were engaged to her or rid of bondage to Simon Legree.

It was during one of those mitten-unhanding interludes that she fished out a book from her shelf, and said, "I want you to read this, Bertie. It's called The Birth of Tragedy." [End Page 496]

"Ha!" I said, rubbing the old palms together. "One of those jolly stories about a corpse in the library by Agatha Christie?"

"Don't...



中文翻译:

吉夫斯(Jeeves)恢复指控(对阅读尼采文学的贡献)

代替摘要,这里是内容的简要摘录:

  • 吉夫斯(Jeeves)恢复指控(对阅读尼采文学的贡献)
  • S.Subramanian

1916年《星期六晚报》上首次发表的叙事“吉夫斯负责”续集,据报道佛罗伦斯·克雷耶夫人计划让贝蒂·伍斯特(Bertie Wooster)读尼采。当前帐户中的威胁已执行。虽然尚不清楚该续集的出处是否可以追溯到PG Wodehouse,但提交人表示坚信,该作品极有可能成为至少一个真正的伪造品。

一世

如果我错了,请指正我,但我有一个明显的印象,就是我曾经在我的这些回忆中提到过佛罗伦萨·弗洛伊这个名字,如果“回忆”确实是我想要的那种在他们回想起它们时会记录下来的东西的词。生活,就像世界上最伟大的作家的作风一样,其中两个容易想到的例子是Marcel Proust和Bertram Wooster。请注意,[结束页495]两者之间没有任何真正的比较。我是根据两位杰出的文学鉴赏家Boko Fittleworth和Bingo Little的专家意见提出的,如果他们绝对必须在Proust的著作和我的著作之间进行选择,以免他们应被判处余生在一个废弃的岛屿上度过,他们会选择我的。(不要介意为什么。但是,如果您坚持要知道,那两位残酷而唯物主义的年轻骗子所提出的原因是,由于我写的书是普鲁斯特的三十或四十倍,我的总的来说,他们说了这话,然后在寒冷的夜晚创造了更好和更持久的篝火。他们这样说,然后发出不切实际的笑声。

并不是说这个Craye令人不悦。离得很远。高大典雅,柔和而又柔和,并拥有淡淡的淡褐色眼睛和金色的铂金特别生动的头发,更不用说评论家,不管严格按照他的完美标准,都可能使人眼花the乱。任何正常构成的男性心脏都不可能不受到这种合奏的影响。这就是麻烦所在。在他不知不觉中,一个大家伙把心heart在她的脚上,变得与她订婚,只是为他的方式的错误而后悔。对于弗洛伦斯·克雷来说,除了拥有一个臭鼬(伍珀斯顿的伯爵)作为父亲之外,她本身也绝不是一个臭鼬。她读过《伦理学类型》一 如果您更喜欢埃德加·华莱士(Edgar Wallace),就会有一种冷淡,卑鄙的卑鄙的方式低头看待您-您会同意的,如果您向她求婚的话可能对您特别困难。

当我冷静地对事实说,佛罗伦萨·克雷耶(Florence Craye)是我所从事的所有女性中最可怕的一个时,您会对这一切感到恐惧。如Stiffy Byng,Honoria Glossop和Madeline Bassett。和其他人一样,她总是把手套交给我,但也改变了主意,因此,在任何时候,您都无法确定自己是否与她订婚或摆脱了西蒙·莱格里的束缚。

正是在其中一个松开手套的插曲中,她从书架上捞出一本书,并说:“伯蒂,我想让你读这本书。这叫做悲剧的诞生。” [结束页496]

“哈!” 我说,一起擦旧的手掌。“阿加莎·克里斯蒂(Agatha Christie)在图书馆里有关尸体的那些快乐故事之一?”

“别...

更新日期:2020-12-16
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