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elliethecatlover's review against another edition
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.75
kayakalison's review against another edition
4.0
Fun! Not your typical Psmith tale, and a delightful turn through early 1900’s NYC…with all that that entails.
galaheadh's review against another edition
pretty free with racial slurs (antiblack in relation to one character, anti-Italian generally), not very satisfying ending. the closer Wodehouse gets to anything approaching actual reality, the less the style suits and the more he reveals his weaknesses, but he's still a genius-level arranger of words and i'll never understand how he does it. i would have preferred much more Cosy Moments, much less Gangs of New York
The man in the street would not have known it, but a great crisis was imminent in New York journalism.
Everything seemed much as usual in the city. The cars ran blithely on Broadway. Newsboys shouted "Wux-try!" into the ears of nervous pedestrians with their usual Caruso-like vim. Society passed up and down Fifth Avenue in its automobiles, and was there a furrow of anxiety upon Society's brow? None. At a thousand street corners a thousand policemen preserved their air of massive superiority to the things of this world. Not one of them showed the least sign of perturbation. Nevertheless, the crisis was at hand. Mr. J. Fillken Wilberfloss, editor-in-chief of Cosy Moments, was about to leave his post and start on a ten weeks' holiday.
dave_peticolas's review against another edition
3.0
Psmith buys a newspaper. In America, no less. Wodehouse's attempt to render the New York vernacular leaves something to be desired, but it's an enjoyable outing anyway.
sociotom's review against another edition
4.0
This is the second Wodehouse book I've read, and it didn't disappoint one bit. He was an absolute master of the craft, and reading about the adventures of Psmith and his unsuspecting cohorts was wonderful at keeping my spirits up and a smile on my face.I loved it.
dpkb's review against another edition
4.0
I must say, while it wasn't my favourite of the Psmith series (that goes to Leave it to Psmith), it was still an enjoyable read. A departure from merry old England, you get to experience the characteristic wit and charm of Psmith in New York.
The plot is a tad less polished than his later works and the new settings felt less ‘Psmith in his element’, nevertheless it was still enjoyable.
The plot is a tad less polished than his later works and the new settings felt less ‘Psmith in his element’, nevertheless it was still enjoyable.
laurehittle's review against another edition
3.0
Here's the thing. Psmith *can* use his powers for good—we see that in his determination to furnish the poor slum with a modicum of decency and humanity. After the first book, where he (to use Wodehouse's own phrase) looked on all life as some sort of game, here he feels actual humanity, and as a result immediately hauls up his slacks and gets to work.
And yet. It's in this Psmith book where we run into not only multiple racial slurs but the pernicious and abominable question of whether melanin has anything to do with pain receptors. (The cry goes round the rooftop: NO, all humans feel pain, gosh.)
The New York gangs and assorted hijinks are great, but this is like Iron Man 2 of the Psmith books. It's nice to see a bridge between stages in character development (Leave it to Psmith is the best of the three—Jonathan Cecil doesn't read Mike and Psmith, so i only count three), but there's no need for this nonsense. Thankfully the slurs and nonsense are not extensive, being mostly confined to one chapter. Probably more 3.5/5 but Goodreads doesn't have half stars.
And yet. It's in this Psmith book where we run into not only multiple racial slurs but the pernicious and abominable question of whether melanin has anything to do with pain receptors. (The cry goes round the rooftop: NO, all humans feel pain, gosh.)
The New York gangs and assorted hijinks are great, but this is like Iron Man 2 of the Psmith books. It's nice to see a bridge between stages in character development (Leave it to Psmith is the best of the three—Jonathan Cecil doesn't read Mike and Psmith, so i only count three), but there's no need for this nonsense. Thankfully the slurs and nonsense are not extensive, being mostly confined to one chapter. Probably more 3.5/5 but Goodreads doesn't have half stars.
bluegraybox's review against another edition
3.0
Fun, and a quick read, but not one of his better books. The tone is odd and inconsistent, an awkward mix of Wodehouse hijinx and Raymond Chandler noir. It starts with the silliness of Psmith on a whim turning an insipid home journal into a muckraking tabloid, but ends up with gangsters actually trying to kill our intrepid reporters.
laurehittle's review against another edition
3.0
Here's the thing. Psmith *can* use his powers for good—we see that in his determination to furnish the poor slum with a modicum of decency and humanity. After the first book, where he (to use Wodehouse's own phrase) looked on all life as some sort of game, here he feels actual humanity, and as a result immediately hauls up his slacks and gets to work.
And yet. It's in this Psmith book where we run into not only multiple racial slurs but the pernicious and abominable question of whether melanin has anything to do with pain receptors. (The cry goes round the rooftop: NO, all humans feel pain, gosh.)
The New York gangs and assorted hijinks are great, but this is like Iron Man 2 of the Psmith books. It's nice to see a bridge between stages in character development (Leave it to Psmith is the best of the three—Jonathan Cecil doesn't read Mike and Psmith, so i only count three), but there's no need for this nonsense. Thankfully the slurs and nonsense are not extensive, being mostly confined to one chapter. Probably more 3.5/5 but Goodreads doesn't have half stars.
And yet. It's in this Psmith book where we run into not only multiple racial slurs but the pernicious and abominable question of whether melanin has anything to do with pain receptors. (The cry goes round the rooftop: NO, all humans feel pain, gosh.)
The New York gangs and assorted hijinks are great, but this is like Iron Man 2 of the Psmith books. It's nice to see a bridge between stages in character development (Leave it to Psmith is the best of the three—Jonathan Cecil doesn't read Mike and Psmith, so i only count three), but there's no need for this nonsense. Thankfully the slurs and nonsense are not extensive, being mostly confined to one chapter. Probably more 3.5/5 but Goodreads doesn't have half stars.