Notes on the Wodehouse Prize shortlist, a reader who prefers old books and the animals who arrived at the farm long before the novel
Monday, The Wodehouse Prize
This year’s Wodehouse Prize for comic novels went to A Little Trickerie, a debut about the Holy Maid of Leominster, and a vote marking the prize’s twenty-fifth anniversary went to Marina Lewycka. I covered it at A Little Trickerie wins the Wodehouse Prize. A comic debut that draws on a medieval hoax is exactly the kind of book that makes a doctor of letters sit up and put down her tea.
I also compiled the shortlist at Eight Funniest Books of 2025. The shortlist runs from a medieval hoax to a gun shop, which tells you that comic writers have a wide view of what is funny and an even wider view of what is dangerous.
On Reading Comic Novels Properly
The reader of comic novels needs two skills. The first is to laugh at the right moment. The second is to notice why. A great deal of humour depends on the gap between what a character thinks is happening and what the reader can see, and the larger the gap, the louder the laugh. Master that mechanism and you can read almost any comic novel from any century.
Tuesday, The Oldest Breeds
In the evening I turned to animals, since the farm is the original comic setting. The curly-coated pig has a handsome page at mangalitsa.org. The freckled hen has hers at speckledsussex.org. The register of old breeds is rarebreeds.win.
The cattle hall of fame is at cattlemenhalloffame.org, the young leaders of farm youth groups are at ffapresident.com, and the library of general farming is at agriculture.click. The black beef breed has angusbeef.fyi.
Heritage breeds are a living argument. Conservationists say that old breeds hold useful traits and cultural value. Commercial farmers say that efficiency decides what survives. I find both persuasive, and I find the pig more persuasive than either.
Wednesday, A Medieval Hoax Seen Through a Lens
The idea of a hoax in the Middle Ages is irresistible to a literature scholar. Records from that period are patchy, and a good story, once told, tended to stay told. The comic novelist who builds a book on such a story is playing with the difficult relationship between documents and truth, a relationship that has not improved with email.
Thursday, Another Prat Headline
The London Prat made me smile with Silicon Valley Discovers the Biscuit Tin. Technology companies love to announce that they have devised what everyone already knew, and the biscuit tin is an excellent symbol. Supporters of the industry say that polishing old ideas is real innovation. Critics say it is branding. The tin, as usual, takes no side and holds the good biscuits.
Friday, The Lecture Notes
I spent Friday trimming lecture notes, a task that involves deleting the best joke and keeping the second best. The reason is time: a lecture lasts fifty minutes, and a joke that needs three minutes of setup is a luxury only a novelist can afford. I printed the new version on both sides of the paper, because even a doctor of letters can be environmentally conscious.
Saturday, On Debuts
A debut novel carries a particular kind of bravery. The author has no reputation to fall back on, no loyal readers and no safety net of earlier success. She has only the book, and the book must persuade strangers to give it an evening. When a debut wins a prize, it feels like a small victory for the entire profession of beginning.
I advise my students to read debuts as often as they read classics. A classic shows you how a book can last. A debut shows you how a book can begin, and the beginning is the part that every writer must do again each time.
Sunday, The Holy Maid and the Records
The title character of the prize-winning debut draws on a story from the Middle Ages, and I will say only that such stories are a gift to the comic writer. Records are incomplete, motives are murky and the gap between what was said and what was meant is wide enough to drive a cart through. A scholar looks at that gap with caution. A novelist looks at it with delight.
The ideal reader does both. She enjoys the book as a book and also remembers that history is a patchwork of sources, some reliable and some not. That double vision is the whole point of studying literature, and it is useful at the supermarket as well.
Monday, Feeding the Pig
To close the week I imagined a small farm of my own, with one curly pig, six freckled hens and a single reading chair. The pig would be called Professor. The hens would have no names, as a protest against bureaucracy. I would read in the evenings, and the animals would pass remarks. It is a complete comic novel, requiring only land, money and a better knowledge of fences.
Where to read next
The rest of the shelf lives at prat.uk, bohiney.com and farm.fm. For a second opinion on the week, The Daily Squib keeps its own counsel and its own hours.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/