The Code of the Woosters by P. G. Wodehouse

So I'm usually a Blandings Castle girl, because I got my Jeeves and Wooster fix from the superb Grenada series, but this novel is apparently considered Wodehouse's best by many people, and it certainly did not disappoint, it was totally hysterical. I never really appreciated before what a wonderful creation Bertie Wooster is; he's a bit clueless, disastrously soft-hearted, and totally at the mercy of his various relations and an assortment of sobbing females. The plot (a large part of which hinges hilariously on the digestion of Bertie's uncle Tom) revolves around the absolutely necessity (for a seemingly endless range of reasons) of stealing a silver 18th century creamer, and somehow hangs together perfectly. There's such a wonderful predictability and balance to Wodehouse's plots, and this one is a real winner. I also love all the slang that Bertie and his friends throw around, and the delightful expressions they use. This book is really outstanding in Wodehouse's work (which is already saying a lot). My only complaint is that I've always felt a little uneasy about the character of Roderick Spode, who is a parody of Oswald Mosley; I just can't laugh at anything to do with fascism, so for example, I don't find Chaplin's Great Dictator funny, but of course, this novel was written before World War II.