If, upon your arrival in the States, you find yourself with very little to do in the great city of New York, perhaps taking over a local small newspaper would provide ample entertainment. Then, upon throwing out all the well loved, but equally boring, columns (and their authors), you may find you lack sufficient material to fill the paper you now edit. But, after rescuing the cat of a gang leader, locating a tenement building with a less-than honest landlord, and befriending an up and coming boxer, you may just have enough writing material.
Of course, because of all that you might also have enemies. Good thing you have a boxer and a ganglord as friends, they can be your body guards why you write. So goes the life of Psmith, who finds himself uprooted from his university life at Cambridge and living in New York City, looking for something to fill his time. Revealing the dark soul of a money grabbing landlord seems to be just what he needs.
From P. G. Wodehouse we have come to expect excellent writing and eccentric humor. Psmith, Journalist did not disappoint. I once again found myself laughing out loud as I read, while at the same time enjoying the in-depth look at life in the States 100 years ago. Wodehouse even includes a note in the beginning of the book, assuring his British readers that both gangs, like those that appear in the book, really do exist in New York City and that the American press is, for the most part, uninterested in most gang violence. Highly recommend this book as a light-hearted, well written piece of literature.