A Pelican at Blandings: Summary & Reading Guide

A painting and two unwelcome guests

A Pelican at Blandings begins with a threat to the peace that Lord Emsworth values above nearly everything: guests who intend to stay and interfere. The Duke of Dunstable occupies the Garden Suite, and Lady Constance arrives from New York with her own formidable standards for the household. A modern nude painting becomes the centre of a dubious sale, though Emsworth initially mistakes the image for a pig. Gally returns to arrange matters for the younger people and, if possible, restore his brother’s freedom from other people’s plans. The novel’s American first book is called No Nudes Is Good Nudes, a title that draws the painting into the foreground. The British title instead calls up Gally’s old Pelican Club connection.

I like the way Wodehouse makes the art object useful to several different jokes. A painting has a price, an owner and an appearance that can be described incorrectly. Somebody may hope to sell it, someone else may value it for another reason, and Emsworth sees the world through the only category that currently holds his attention. His mistake is funny because it reveals a consistent priority, not a random failure of eyesight. Once the picture starts moving through social arrangements, its supposed meaning changes with its audience. This is a familiar Wodehouse pleasure: a portable thing can connect people who otherwise would prefer not to deal with one another.

The Duke is an especially invasive guest because he believes his rank and temperament entitle him to settle in. Lady Constance’s return reinforces the sense that Emsworth’s home may be directed by everybody except Emsworth. His wish for a quiet day with the Empress is not a grand political claim, but the castle’s comic order depends on whether anyone will allow him to have it. The Garden Suite is a small piece of geography with an outsized effect: once occupied by the wrong person, it becomes the headquarters of someone else’s wishes. Wodehouse can make a room feel like a strategic loss without changing the warm, absurd tone of Blandings.

Gally’s presence gives the book a counterforce. He can understand a scheme, recognise an imposture and see a path for separated lovers that a more dutiful family member might reject. His history at the Pelican Club is part of his character, not a promise that a pelican bird will enter the grounds. A reader who has met him in Full Moon or Galahad at Blandings will know how readily he offers aid to younger people. Here he is also protecting Emsworth’s immediate peace. The two goals need not align perfectly. Helping a romance can require another little disturbance before the house settles. That willingness to accept temporary disorder is part of Gally’s generous intelligence.

The novel follows closely after Galahad at Blandings in the specialist account of story time, though the books are several years apart in publication. This is another reason I keep fictional sequence and book chronology in separate mental drawers. A returning character’s recent history may matter in the plot; a first edition’s date answers a bibliographical question. The UK Herbert Jenkins book appeared on 25 September 1969. Simon and Schuster published No Nudes Is Good Nudes in the US on 11 February 1970. A condensed Canadian newspaper appearance came later still. A shelf label can show the original UK title while the edition panel lets a reader recognise the American one.

The regional texts have details worth checking if you collect variants. Neil Midkiff’s novel bibliography notes at least a wording change concerning the reclining nude between the British and American books. The annotated title page distinguishes their publishers and dates. I would not promise that a modern reprint reproduces either first text without examination. Nor would I treat a current retailer’s jacket as an illustration of Blandings itself. The artwork inside the plot and the artwork used to market an edition are entirely different questions. For a fan guide, naming the painting and the version is more helpful than displaying an unlicensed cover merely because it is easy to find.

This is a good later Blandings choice for somebody who enjoys the castle under siege from socially powerful visitors. The Empress is present as Emsworth’s measure of what truly matters, but the picture and the household arrivals make a distinctive comic configuration. The novel need not be read only for the pig. Its displaced lovers, entrepreneurial art plans and intergenerational contest over who may arrange the house give the reader several routes through the same day. I would read an earlier Gally book first for extra affection, then allow this one to introduce its immediate visitors on its own terms. A brief guide should identify the principal pieces without telling you which hand finally holds the painting.

I return to the contrast between Emsworth and his guests. He could possess a castle and still have less control over an afternoon than a visitor with sufficient determination. Gally knows this and can work around it. Lady Constance sees household order from her own angle. The Duke sees the Garden Suite as a perfectly reasonable place to remain. The painting travels through their overlapping assumptions, and the reader sees how a private misunderstanding can become a public predicament. The American title catches one strand; the British title catches another. Both point to a novel whose happiest outcome will be the restoration of room for Emsworth to think about the Empress in peace.