Now this book is a genuine oddity–it’s a Jeeves novel without Bertie
Wooster. Nor is Bertie’s absence the only anomaly.

In general, Bertie Wooster and his man Jeeves live in a world on which
the passing years leave no mark. This novel, on the other hand, is firmly
set in a time after World War II in which, thanks to punitive taxation
and other social legislation, the stately country became a larger than
usual albatross about the neck of its owners–and in which, consequently,
the landed gentry have all had to seek employment. Sir Roderick
Carmoyle, for example, is a floorwalker at Harrige’s department store,
and our hero, Lord Rowcester (pronounced “Roaster”), has embarked on
a career as a Silver Ring bookie, taking bets on horses.

This might seem an odd occupation for one of England’s younger earls, but
it is easily explained. It seems that, thanks to the winds of change
blowing so strongly through England’s mighty oaks, Bertie has decided
that he must learn to fend for himself, just in case, you understand,
and so has taken himself off to a boarding school dedicated to teaching
upper-class drones how to darn socks and fry an egg. This has left
Jeeves at a loose end, and to fill in the time he has taken service with
Lord Rowcester. It was at his suggestion that Lord Rowcester has taken
up his new trade, having gone through the classified section of the
telephone book from A to R without finding anything for which he was
suited and then stumbling upon Silver Ring in the S’s.

Because Bertie’s absent, we don’t get his usual first person narration;
instead, the book is told in third-person. And if I’m not mistaken, that
makes this the only book in which we see Jeeves from a relatively
objective point of view, rather than filtered through another’s eyes.
Jeeves remains himself, of course; yet he seems a little freer with the
literary quotations, and perhaps a little more likely to take liberties
than when he’s with Bertie.

There’s one Jeeves and Wooster short story told from Jeeves’ point of
view, in which it becomes clear that Jeeves’ entire aim is to make sure
that Bertie never dispenses with him (or marries anyone who would force
Bertie to do so); for he’d have the dickens of a time trying to find
anyone so easily managed as Bertie. Jeeves comes off as rather
cold-blooded, really. And I think something of the same is going on
here. I don’t think that Jeeves is really working for Lord Rowcester,
however much he’s paid and however satisfactory his service is. I think
he’s just having fun seeing how much he can get away with.

Well, anyway, it’s a fun book; if perhaps not one of Wodehouse’ best,
it’s still much better than Much Obliged, Jeeves.