Wodehouse is brilliant, end of. His books are, naturally, set in bubble world fantasies stocked with dapper gents in spats, terrifying matriarchs and wily servants, but they are truly things of wonder. Nothing can make me so instantly cheerful as a Wodehouse novel.
This is his usual fare, a comedy of wonderfully disastrous errors which, unlike the later Jeeves and Wooster books never quite reaches Gordian levels of intricacy or Greek levels of tragedy, though it is marvellously written and realised. His characters are pure genius, drawn with unflinching perfection, so real that even though they exist in nothing more than an Elysian fantasy they register as one hundred percent real and relatable.
If you’ve never read Wodehouse, read him, if you have, read him again. His work is a pure delight.
And in the US here