A Gentleman's Personal Gentleman: Jeeves/Bertie (Jeeves and Wooster)

[iridaceaena.livejournal.com]

Title: A Gentleman’s Personal Gentleman
Author: iridaceaena, with the inimitable skyblue_reverie and Essie and their remarkable beta talents
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Pairing: Reginald Jeeves/Bertie Wooster
Spoilers: Covers events from the entire book series, but the most spoilery references are for the short stories “Bertie Changes His Mind” (found in Carry On, Jeeves) and “The Purity of the Turf” (found in The Inimitable Jeeves) and the novels Thank You, Jeeves, Ring for Jeeves, and Jeeves and the Tie That Binds.
Notes: Images mostly came from Hugh Laurie FAQ, with one stolen from fryphile; much thanks to both. Also, I’m utterly swamped at the moment, so I apologize in advance if I’m slow to reply to comments.


A Gentleman’s Personal Gentleman: P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves and Wooster




P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves series (known more commonly as Jeeves and Wooster) is a collection of comedic short stories and novels about a hapless British aristocrat who is incapable of keeping himself out of trouble and must constantly rely on his extraordinarily intelligent valet to rescue him. The first story (“Extricating Young Gussie”) was published in 1915, but it primarily revolved around Bertie’s activities, with Jeeves’s actions limited to announcing Aunt Agatha and taking care of the luggage; it wasn’t until the next batch of short stories came out in 1919 that Jeeves and Bertie received their signature identities. The series continued intermittently until 1974, totaling eleven novels and thirty-five short stories in all. It was later made into a twenty-three episode television program airing from 1990 to 1993 and featuring Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie as the dynamic duo; the TV series keeps the spirit of the books as well as possible but tends to muck about with people, places, and events, so this essay will remain primarily focused on the book universe in an optimistic yet futile effort to try to simplify matters. Also, just to be absolutely certain confusion reigns supreme, it should be noted that some of the books differ slightly between their British and American editions – usually just the titles and the occasional minor character’s name, but when Much Obliged, Jeeves was published in America as Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, it gained an extra page of some of the slashiest material in the series, purportedly because Wodehouse’s American editor complained that Americans would expect more explanation from Jeeves at the end about the motive for his actions. For the purposes of this essay, I’ll be referring to the British editions of all the books except Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, an exception for obvious reasons. You can find a list of the novels and short stories, including their alternate titles and connection with various television episodes, here at the Hat Sharpening Shop. Also, one of the many joys of being in an older fandom is that the copyright does eventually run out, and My Man Jeeves and Right Ho, Jeeves are legally available for free here at Project Gutenburg, along with quite a few of Wodehouse’s other books.

While the first Jeeves and Wooster stories didn’t appear until after World War I had started, the series cheerfully manages to overlook this; Bertie Wooster’s England is one in which a romanticized version of the Edwardian era never ends, the Great War was less traumatic than being forced to serenade a group of delinquents with a song about angels being lonely, the vengeance of a would-be dictator can be foiled by a few choice words about ladies’ lingerie, and the biggest threat socialists pose to the aristocracy is that one will be required to serve them scrambled eggs and sardines at teatime. It’s been said that if Bertie Wooster ever really existed, he died in 1915. This, then, is not the England that was, but an England that existed purely in Wodehouse’s imagination, and the innocence that pervades the series gives it an air of unreality that is ineffably charming.


The Young Master: Bertie Wooster





“Oh, yes, [Jeeves] thinks a lot of you. I remember his very words. ‘Mr Wooster, miss,’ he said, ‘is, perhaps, mentally somewhat negligible, but he has a heart of gold.’ ”

~Pauline Stoker to Bertie, Thank You, Jeeves

Bertram Wilberforce Wooster was orphaned at an unspecified age and left to the tender mercies of his many relations, particularly his Aunt Agatha (who refers to him as a spineless invertebrate) and his Aunt Dahlia (who refers to him as a blot on society, but she says it with love, so it’s all right); his only remaining immediate family is a sister who is either married or widowed and whom Bertie never seems to see. This sounds like the backstory for some desolate Gothic hero, but luckily, Bertie has probably never read that sort of book in his life, or if he has, he skipped the boring expositiony bit and got right on to the part with the things going bump in the night, so he has no idea that he ought to be tragically affected by all of this.

The setup for the Jeeves stories is that they are Bertie’s memoirs, and as such, they’re written in his voice, an absolutely fascinating mix of mangled quotations, peculiar and often mixed metaphors, bizarre abbreviations, obscure slang, wildly inappropriate Biblical and literary allusions, and rambling asides in which he questions whether or not he is using a word correctly; for all that, it’s surprisingly lucid and descriptive. His language also reflects his personality perfectly – he is perpetually cheerful, sweet, and flighty to the extreme. The general opinion among the characters – including Bertie himself – is that he’s got roughly half the brain of a normal person; even Jeeves refers to him as being mentally negligible more than once (although he does revise that opinion to say that Bertie is capable of acting very shrewdly on occasion). At the same time, it’s easy to get the impression that Bertie really doesn’t give himself enough credit; he’s actually the first to catch on to the entire chain of events in several of the more insanely complicated situations, he’s able to translate Jeeves for his circle of old school chums and friends from his gentlemen’s club, the Drones, when they can’t understand the man’s more complex sentence structures (and Bertie’s intelligence is undeniable when compared to the likes of his friend Biffy, who is incapable of remembering his own hotel, much less the phone number, address, or surname of the girl to whom he is engaged), and there’s always the fact that Bertie himself is responsible for the marvelous language and story structure.

What Bertie wants most in the world is to be left to pursue his pleasures in peace, so of course he ends up engaged with alarming regularity, sometimes multiple times within the same novel (only as a willing participant in about three of these, mind, later deciding that he’s one of “Nature’s bachelors” and opening up a whole new can of subtext), and he has a gaggle of family and friends whose first instinct, when faced with a problem, is to pass it off to Bertie to deal with. Bertie is too soft-hearted to ever put up more than a token resistance to any of this, but unfortunately, he does not possess the gift of dealing with the Unusual Situation, as Jeeves puts it. This is where Jeeves comes in.


The World’s First Consulting Valet: Reginald Jeeves





Now, touching this business of Jeeves – my man, you know – how do we stand? Lots of people think I’m much too dependent on him. My Aunt Agatha, in fact, has even gone so far as to call him my keeper. Well, what I say is why not? The man’s a genius. From the collar upward he stands alone, I gave up trying to run my own affairs within a week of his coming to me.
~Bertie, “Jeeves Takes Charge”

Jeeves is tall, dark, reserved, incredibly competent, and so intelligent that he was commandeered as the mascot for an internet search engine for a time. His age depends on the medium; it is generally assumed that he is in his late thirties at the start of the book series (ten or fifteen years older than Bertie), but the television show makes him appear much closer to Bertie’s age. Jeeves is Bertie’s valet, or, as Jeeves often puts it, his gentleman’s personal gentleman (note that this is not the same thing as a butler, though Jeeves does “buttle” once in a while when needs must), even though he could probably retire quite comfortably, given both his presumably generous salary and the sheer number of tips he gets from Bertie and Bertie’s grateful friends after bailing them out, not to mention his excellent gambling instincts. His primary duties include:

1. Bringing the young master a drink when the situation grows dire (read: every three pages or so)
2. Disentangling Bertie from ill-advised engagements
3. Disposing of any inappropriate clothing Bertie may purchase for himself
4. Preventing Bertie’s arrest and/or getting him released from jail
5. Doing all of the household tasks so Bertie doesn’t accidentally burn down the flat while attempting to make tea

Despite his class and position as Bertie’s employee, Jeeves is always quite firmly in control – of the household, of events, and of Bertie himself. Several of the stories follow a similar theme of Bertie getting in trouble, only to have Jeeves initially avoid helping him because Bertie refuses to give up something that offends Jeeves’s delicate sensibilities; he only steps in once the situation reaches critical mass, and by the time Jeeves has removed the threat, the grateful Bertie is willing to concede that “Jeeves knows best” and offer to dispose of said item (which Jeeves has generally already taken the liberty of doing). On more than one occasion, Jeeves has deliberately exacerbated an existing problem in order to speed the process along. Jeeves’s cures are often nearly as bad as the disease; a good portion of Bertie’s social circle is firmly convinced that Bertie is suffering from one form of mental illness or another. Possibly several at once. Despite this little drawback, Jeeves’s plans are usually quite effective, primarily due to his understanding and application of the “psychology of the individual”.

While Jeeves and Bertie both adhere strictly to their individual codes of behavior, the morals involved are significantly more ambiguous in Jeeves’s case than in Bertie’s. (One gets the impression that when the Wooster ancestor responsible for the Code of the Woosters was casting about for inspiration, he alit upon the small mat in front of the door. Probably face-first. Also quite drunk. Bertie himself has frequently concluded that the Woosters are asses for having a Code like theirs.) Jeeves is intensely loyal to those he deems worthy and is scrupulous about performing his duties, but it’s worth noting that he considers eavesdropping essential to performing those duties to the best of his ability (although keyholes are undignified and therefore to be avoided), and he has no qualms about assaulting people with large blunt objects (from behind, of course) or bribing four little girls and then turning them in to get them disgraced and disqualified from an egg-and-spoon race so that he and Bertie will win a bet. Jeeves can actually come across as a bit disconcerting on occasion; this is a man who, when he needs to retrieve a piece of incriminating evidence from an information seller, casually decides the most efficient way of going about this is to drug the man’s drink and steal the papers back, as he conveniently just happens to have the necessary materials on hand.

“You mean you slipped him a Mickey Finn?” [asked Aunt Dahlia.]
“I believe that is what they are termed in the argot, madam.”
“Do you always carry them about with you?”
“I am seldom without a small supply, madam.”
“Never know when they won’t come in handy, eh?”
“Precisely, madam. Opportunities for their use are constantly arising.”

In the same story in which he admits outright to being fond of Bertie, Jeeves (knowing full well that Bertie is incapable of improvisational speaking) deliberately puts Bertie in the position of having to give a speech to a schoolful of little girls who take great delight in teasing speakers, then proceeds to discreetly position himself outside the window and watch Bertie’s embarrassment, commenting that it was an “experience which [he] should have been sorry to have missed.” You could wonder about what he would do if he were not fond of Bertie, but it’s probably better if you don’t. If Bertie were a little less resilient or Jeeves less of a closet romantic, the tone of the series might have been very different. Luckily, Bertie follows the “all’s well that ends well” school of thought, and for all of Jeeves’s Spinoza and Dostoyevsky (and Oscar Wilde, if the fandom has anything to say about it), he has a suspiciously thorough knowledge of soppy interclass romance novels (he says they're his aunt's), so by the time Jeeves is finished manipulating everyone, the course of True Love is perfectly creased along its seams, Bertie is returned to his flat essentially none the worse for wear, and Jeeves is there, as always, to bring him a nightcap and run his bath.



Actually, let’s talk about that bath for a minute.


The Tie That Binds: The Pairing





“…For I may hope, may I not, sir, that you will allow me to remain permanently in your service?”
“You may indeed, Jeeves. It often beats me, though, why with your superlative gifts you should want to.”
“There is a tie that binds, sir.”
“A what that whats?”
“A tie that binds, sir.”
“Then heaven bless it, and may it continue to bind indefinitely. Fate’s happenstance may oft win more than toil, as the fellow said.”
“What fellow would that be, sir? Thoreau?”
“No, me.”
“Sir?”
“A little thing of my own. I don’t know what it means, but you can take it as coming straight from the heart.”
“Very good, sir.”

~Jeeves and Bertie, Jeeves and the Tie That Binds

Any time a character voluntarily lists his job title as “Gentleman’s Personal Gentleman”, it’s going to raise a few eyebrows. I'm just sayin’.

Seriously, though, idiosyncrasies in the evolution of language aside, there is quite a lot of canon support for the pairing. Their closeness is clear in hundreds of little intimacies – Bertie’s constant praise for Jeeves, to the point that his memoirs revolve around the man; Jeeves nearly taking offense when the Earl of Rowcester asks if he and Bertie have had a falling-out and split up; Bertie teasing Jeeves into telling him what he’d like as a present; Jeeves insisting that the most appropriate phrase would be “amende honorable” while Bertie argues for “olive branch”, only to mutually switch and use each other’s suggestions later on; Bertie cheering up so much upon Jeeves’s return that he changes his bathtime singing to lighter and happier songs like “Every Day I Bring Thee Violets”; Bertie referring to Jeeves’s uncle as “Uncle Charlie” and telling Jeeves to “give Uncle Charlie my love” in a letter, with Jeeves assuring him that he will… Even taking Bertie’s natural ebullience into account, their interactions are telling in the degree of both spoken and unspoken affection. They are fond of each other in a way that completely transcends employer-employee relations, and as friends, they’re at a level that, in modern terms, would inadvertently get the word “special” tacked on in front a lot. After all, Bertie is someone who can go months without seeing the friend whom he describes as having “played Damon to my Pythias,” yet he nearly has a breakdown when unexpectedly separated from Jeeves even for a night, and Jeeves proves himself willing to sacrifice his other loyalties to protect Bertie’s reputation (such as it is, anyway); their worlds revolve around each other, and neither of them sees anything wrong with that.

Bertie’s main objection to his multitude of ex-fiancées, aside from their being female, is that the majority of them want to either “make something of him” or use him to do their dirty work (several have also wanted to get rid of Jeeves, which only strengthens Bertie’s resolve to stay single, as he hadn’t realized that marriage required such “frightful sacrifices”). Bertie, meanwhile, doesn’t think he needs to be made into anything. He has no ambition and no profession, and he’s genuinely happy that way; this is a man who frequently wakes up almost singing from the sheer pleasure of being alive. Jeeves is the only person who seems to recognize the value of this; while he does manipulate and use Bertie, it’s almost always done with an eye toward keeping Bertie happy and himself (and sometimes to get some fishing in for himself, but even that is usually done in such a way as to help Bertie in the long run – Jeeves favors killing two birds with one cosh whenever possible). Jeeves likes Bertie just the way he is, and Bertie depends perhaps even more heavily on the comfort and sympathy that comes from that than he does on Jeeves’s professional abilities. Interestingly, this open acceptance does more to encourage Bertie to “better himself” than any of the lectures from his Aunt Agatha or the study of “Types of Ethical Theory” forced on him by ex-fiancée Florence Craye; Bertie’s narrative and conversation is sprinkled with vocabulary, philosophy, and literary allusions he’s picked up from Jeeves, and even Bertie notices the change. Admittedly, what he’s learned is sometimes in somewhat fractured form, but the gist is there:

“And if you think I’ve got the force of character to come back with a nolle prosequi – ”
“With a what?”
“One of Jeeves’s gags. It means roughly ‘Nuts to you!’ ”

I remember once when he and I arrived at a country house where the going threatened to be sticky, Jeeves, as we alighted, murmured in my ear the words “Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came, sir,” and at the time I could make nothing of the crack. Subsequent inquiry, however, revealed that this Roland was one of those knights of the Middle Ages who spent their time wandering to and fro, and that on fetching up one evening at a dump known as the Dark Tower he had scratched the chin a bit dubiously, not liking the look of things.
It was the same with me now.

Jeeves, despite his usual reserve, speaks about Bertie with surprising warmth on more than one occasion; in the one story Jeeves narrates, he admits to being fond of his gentleman and claims that Bertie has practically every desirable quality in an employer except the ability to deal with Unusual Situations, expressing his reluctance to “sever a connexion so pleasant in every respect as his and mine had been” when Bertie seems insistent upon adopting a child (the sound of pattering feet being the sort of thing that sends Jeeves in the opposite direction). Jeeves also appears to be quite complimentary to Bertie when speaking of him to others, with Bertie’s ex-fiancée Pauline Stoker telling Bertie that Jeeves referred to him as having a heart of gold (also as being mentally negligible once again, but then, in “Bertie Changes His Mind”, Jeeves makes a point of emphasizing that brains are not on his list of desirable qualities). Jeeves eliminates threats such as fiancées quickly and efficiently, and it’s obvious that he will do anything in his considerable power to maintain the status quo in the Wooster household.

Jeeves’s attitude is much more understated than is Bertie’s, which can obscure the reciprocal nature of their relationship. As the stories are told from Bertie’s point of view, it’s rare for the readers to see Jeeves interacting with anyone other than Bertie; even when other people are present, Bertie often dominates the conversation. With Bertie stopping his own narrative to praise Jeeves every few lines, it’s easy to forget that their employer-employee relationship is fairly unconventional in a way that doesn’t suit everyone. When Jeeves briefly leaves Bertie in Thank You, Jeeves because of Bertie’s determination to play the banjolele and goes to work for Bertie’s friend Lord “Chuffy” Chuffnell and, temporarily, an American named Stoker, it’s clear that not everyone appreciates his more unorthodox talents.

[Stoker] emitted a mirthless l.
“Well, the joke’s on me, all right. Yes, the joke’s certainly on me. I stake everything on the evidence of this man Glossop. I rely on him to save my fifty million by testifying that old George wasn’t loco. And two minutes after I’ve put him on the stand, the other side’ll come right back at me by showing that my expert is a loony himself, loonier than ever old George could have been if he’d tried for a thousand years. It’s funny when you come to think of it. Ironical. Reminds me of that thing about Lo somebody’s name led all the rest.”
Jeeves coughed. He had that informative gleam of his in his eyes.
“Abou ben Adhem, sir.”
“Have I what?” said old Stoker, puzzled.
“The poem to which you allude relates to a certain Abou ben Adhem, who, according to the story, awoke one night from a deep dream of peace to find an angel…”
“Get out!” said old Stoker, very quietly.
“Sir?”
“Get out of this room before I murder you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And take your angels with you.”
“Very good, sir.”
The door closed. Old Stoker puffed out his breath in a stricken sort of way.
“Angels!” he said. “At a time like this!”
I felt it only fair to stick up for Jeeves.
“He was perfectly right,” I said. “I used to know the thing by heart at school. This cove found an angel sitting by his bed, writing in a book, don’t you know, and the upshot of the whole affair was… Oh, all right, if you don’t want to hear.”
I withdrew to a corner of the room and picked up a photograph album. A Wooster does not thrust his conversation upon the unwilling.

Chuffy snatched up Jeeves the minute Bertie mentioned he’d given notice, but he’s really not much better; even knowing Jeeves, he still manages to forget that the man has any talents beyond his ability to have a drink ready before his employer has quite worked out that a drink is exactly what he wants.

Chuffy did another spot of hand-waving.
“No, no, Jeeves. Nobody rang.”
I stepped forward.
“I rang, Chuffy.”
“What for?”
“For Jeeves.”
“We don’t want Jeeves.”
“Chuffy, old man,” I said, and those present were, no doubt, thrilled by the quiet gravity of my tone, “if there could ever be a time when you wanted Jeeves more than you do now, I…” I lost the thread of my remarks and had to start again. “Chuffy,” I said, “what I’m driving at is that there is only one man who can get you out of this mess. He stands before you. I mean Jeeves,” I said, to make the thing clearer. “You know as well as I do that on these occasions Jeeves always finds the way.”
Chuffy was plainly impressed. I could see that memory had begun to stir, and that he was recalling some of the man’s triumphs.
“By Jove, yes. That’s right. He does, doesn’t he?”
“He does indeed.”

As overwhelmingly competent as Jeeves is, he has no trouble finding an employer, but between class issues and his admittedly fastidious standards for his employer’s habits, dress code, and marital status, his options are rather less open than they appear on the surface. Despite his popularity among Bertie’s circle for his ability to find a way out of awkward situations, he still has trouble finding a position in which he can actually relate to his employer instead of ending up as a glorified mixed-drinks machine. Jeeves does get along well with the Earl of Rowcester, Bill, when he’s on loan to him in Ring for Jeeves (the one book in the set that does not include Bertie), but Bill bears a certain resemblance to Bertie; Ring for Jeeves was originally a play with Bertie in his usual role. Wodehouse’s primary motive for changing Bertie for Bill seems to have been to exploit a situation that he was unwilling to make canon for Bertie (i.e., a successful engagement and a destitute protagonist in the post-World War II social revolution – Jeeves is quick to reassure Bill that Bertie is still financially sound).

For all Bertie’s “young master” and “proper feudal spirit” talk, he has no real class consciousness (unless he’s considering Aunt Agatha’s probable reaction to a situation); he himself acknowledges that he treats Jeeves more as a friend and guide than an employee (as well as likening him to all manner of relatives and half the animal kingdom; luckily, Jeeves doesn’t appear to be the sort to take offense at being referred to as a pet gazelle), and Jeeves is hardly unaware or unappreciative of the fact. He claims to wish that Bertie knew how to cope with Unusual Situations, but Jeeves obviously enjoys his machinations, just as he enjoys lecturing about literature and being included in the betting pool when his employer is placing wagers on small children’s races and sermon length. In the scene including the two conversations quoted just above, Jeeves is as close to being obviously displeased as he has ever been (except perhaps for a moment that time with Bertie’s friend Bingo, the socialists, and the fake beard, but he did have that one sprung on him rather suddenly); he scrupulously follows the letter of Stoker’s and Chuffy’s instructions while completely countering the spirit of them, and while he’s already set plans in place for clearing up their problems, he’s intentionally, blatantly dragging their discomfort out as long as humanly possible until Bertie steps in as a combination translator, negotiator, and sacrificial lamb.

Sexuality as such does not seem to exist in Bertie Wooster’s world; even when an ex-fiancée (one of the few to whom he actually proposed, no less, although his interest waned quickly) pops up in Bertie’s bed in the middle of the night, wearing his heliotrope pajamas, the most heated part of their discussion centers on whether or not there was a bed in the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. In all of Bertie’s horrified imaginings about marriage, he always fixates on the idea of having to sit across from the girl at breakfast; the question of sex never seems to cross his mind. If one can wrap one’s mind around the idea of Bertie engaging in intimate relations, however (and this is probably the biggest obstacle to entering the fandom), there’s plenty to interest the slash-inclined. Bertie is just as quick to admire male beauty as female beauty, praising Esmond Haddock’s appearance and describing his friend Ginger as having a face “well worth looking at.… It topped off, moreover, a body which also repaid inspection, being muscular and well knit.” He has also been known to refer to Jeeves as “godlike” from time to time; this is sometimes obviously intended to describe his mental prowess, but Bertie also uses it at times to refer to something about Jeeves’s demeanor. Appearance aside, Bertie much prefers male company to that of females, remarking that “the sooner that sex was suppressed, the better it would be for all of us” (in his defense, he usually says this kind of thing after one of his female friends has just done something that he recognizes is going to send him running for Jeeves’s assistance in a matter of minutes). His aversion to marriage is unremarkable on the surface, but it becomes a bit questionable when he expresses his willingness to be sentenced to forty years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit because being thought guilty is the only thing preventing another engagement – admittedly, Bertie lacks any real sense of time whatsoever, so it’s doubtful that he understands the full extent of what he’s proposing to do, but he certainly prefers the idea of jail to that of marriage. It’s also worth noting that despite how Bertie despises one of his potential fiancées, Madeline Bassett, for being overly soppy (she has a marked tendency to go around talking about how the stars are God’s daisy chain), it apparently doesn’t bother him to have Jeeves throwing out quotes about how his heart leaps every time he sees a rainbow in the sky. It does bother him at times when Jeeves goes on about the stars quiring to the young-eyed cherubium, but that has something to do with the fact that Bertie is supposed to be pretending to break into his uncle’s house at that point and he would really rather Jeeves be giving him some slightly more useful advice.

Jeeves, meanwhile, pays very little attention to women, aside from a brief mention of being engaged twice within the same story, which, given that Jeeves barely seems to notice when they don’t pan out, were presumably part of one of his machinations and never meant to result in actual marriage. It doesn’t help that Jeeves is a member of the Junior Ganymede Club for butlers and gentlemen’s gentlemen (for those unfamiliar with Greek mythology, Ganymede was a youth Zeus kidnapped to be his cup-bearer and lover) and has quite firmly stated his personal preference for only being employed by unmarried gentlemen. This would go a long way toward explaining why he is so ruthless in his efforts to keep Bertie single, although he was perfectly willing to encourage the romance between Chuffy and Pauline or Bill and Jill despite not having a clear idea of exactly how long he intended to remain in their service; Bertie seems to be the only employer Jeeves will fight to keep.

The television show caters to this aspect of the series quite well; Jeeves and Bertie are a difficult pair to portray properly, as it would be easy to forego the more nuanced characterizations that makes the series so endearing and just slip into the idiot-master-and-brilliant-servant comic stereotype, but Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie understand the characters well and imbue their interaction with a genuine warmth that does an excellent job conveying the essential good nature of the series. Stephen and Hugh are extremely good friends in real life and take an unholy joy in cracking jokes about sleeping together, and this chemistry tends to lend itself to any characters they play; the show spends a considerable amount of time just depicting Jeeves and Bertie in comfortable companionship, playing duets on the piano or walking around a seaside town – and of course, Jeeves and Bertie frequently discuss the crisis of the day as Jeeves stands around watching Bertie take a bath. They also play up the “old married couple” routine for all it’s worth; at one point, Jeeves, in an attempt to get Bertie to shave, informs him that mustaches are a leading cause of divorce.

The exchange at the top of this section sums the situation up succinctly – a joint acknowledgement and verbal confirmation of the bond between the two. They’ll spend the rest of their lives – or rather, the rest of eternity, as even time aspires to be a preux chevalier in Bertie’s world and refuses to do anything so disobliging as actually pass – together in the same old cycle of getting into trouble thanks to Bertie’s family and friends and getting out of it thanks to Jeeves, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.


The Tie That Binds (No, Literally): The Fandom





Every once in a while there will be a slash fic featuring Bertie and one of his friends, often pre-Jeeves, and there’s the occasional het drabble (never involving Bertie, mind) or bit of femmeslash with the fiancées, but the vast majority of the Jeeves and Wooster fandom is centered on either the Jeeves-Bertie friendship or outright romance, a fact that testifies both to the strong relationship between the two and to the tiny size of the fandom. Luckily, of what fic there is, a disproportionate amount is really quite good; there are certain benefits to being a small, heavily literate fandom. General fandom kinks include quite a lot of hurt/comfort (especially sick!Bertie and protective!Jeeves), first times, and alternate uses for the ties that Jeeves won’t permit Bertie to wear. While many stories are first-person point of view from Bertie’s perspective, like the majority of canon, there are also a fair number that employ Jeeves as the narrator instead; there are very few that are actually in the third person. As I say, there are quite a few very good stories out there, but here’s a short sampling to get you started (summaries by the authors):

Decidedly by mechanicaljewel (NC-17) – Jeeves implies something that bewilders Bertie.

Jeeves and an Excess of Prudence by rowen_r (PG) – When fiancée and a remarkable Suit lead to friction in the Wooster household, Jeeves formulates a cunning plan, and Bertie cuts the Gordian knot. Cameo appearances from a goose, Lane from The Importance of Being Earnest, and Aunt Agatha.

Jeeves and the Beauty of Labour by woffproff (G) – A story featuring a clueless Bertie, a leech in high heels, and a Jeeves plan that works, but not exactly the way it was supposed to.

Jeeves Makes a Mistake by cuvalwen (NC-17) - The title says it all, really. A mistake is made, and the consequences are faced.

Jeeves Makes a Move by veronamay (G) – Schmoop. Christmas schmoop, even.

Jeeves Takes a Rest part 1 and part 2 by weaselwoman13 (G) – Jeeves has the flu.

The Matter of the Bed by youofwales (G) – On holiday at the seaside.

Mr. Wooster and the Restorative Preparation by innocentsmith (PG) – Fate’s happenstance may oft win more than toil.

An untitled but lovely exchange of telegrams and letters by puritybrown (part 1 and part 2 – G).

Well-Disguised Blessings by sine_que_non767 (PG) – Ermintrude, Engagements, and Edwin. Oh my.

Yes, Sir, Jeeves part 1 and part 2 by skyblue_reverie (NC-17) – Jeeves and Bertie swap roles at an upstate New York manor house as part of a plot to help Bertie's friend Larky. Wacky hijinx, along with a large helping of slashiness, ensue.
(Also, while I am trying to restrict myself to one rec per author, I do feel that, having teased you with the tie that binds, I ought to deliver, so I will therefore discreetly gesture to her (NC-17) Jeeves and the Serious Consequences.)

There is also Green Ice (part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4) by adina_atl, a PG crossover with Dorothy Sayers’s Lord Peter Wimsey series. It isn’t actually Jeeves/Bertie, but it provides a fascinating alternate take on Bertie’s character and why the Great War is given so little importance in Bertie’s world. It doesn’t really require any knowledge of the Lord Peter Wimsey series, but it would probably be better to be familiar with the Jeeves and Wooster canon first.

Links to more or less the entire output of the fandom have been compiled at the Indeed, Sir archive here for your convenience. You could also read innocentsmith’s How to Write Jooster part 1 and part 2, which sum it all up pretty succinctly.

As for communities, indeedsir is the general Jeeves and Wooster community (which sometimes comes across more as a slash community), while fryandorlaurie is a community that covers Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, and any series of theirs, so Jeeves and Wooster pops up from time to time. Jeeves and Wooster was also featured on the crack_van fandom overview community here some time ago.

Comments

[iridaceaena.livejournal.com]

Ah, thank you! You know, now that you mention it, I'm not entirely sure which book the Uncle Charlie thing was in... I think it must have been Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, but I can't quite recall. Obviously, this means I must reread it to be sure. Isn't it such a hardship? ^_~