Wodehousian

Wodehousian farce, like all other kinds of farce — like most comedy, for that matter — nurses a deep suspicion that the ability to reason is an overrated gift, and what counts in farce is not originality of meaning but freshness of image.

Wigs on the Green, originally published in 1935, is Nancy Mitford's third novel. Like its predecessors, it is a light, accomplished comedy of manners, complete with Wodehousian conventions of a rich heiress, rivals in love, legacies from an aunt, broken engagements, assumed identities and a happy ending.

Translating a Cornish village during the Napoleonic wars to a vaguely Wodehousian 1920s ambience provides a bit of incidental fun […]

On the coach the next morning, James shows a Wodehousian ability to find alternatives to the verb “to go”: “Let’s slowly trickle along”, “I think we could race back now”, “We might just wander up for a look”.

The Wodehousian way is the ability to effortlessly expand characters, trivialities and plots and exaggerate the mundane to great comic or catastrophic effect.

Traipsing through this farce is the most Wodehousian character of all, Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson, a 54-year-old dishevelled blond toff with a talent for leaping into action precisely when his country needs him least.