Throughout “The Custody of the Pumpkin,” Wodehouse subverts the expectations of both his audience and his characters in order to satirize preconceived notions of nationality and social class. Wodehouse does this for comedic purposes, and also to question existing traditions and social hierarchies. The assumptions the characters make about one another (for instance, Lord Emsworth’s assumption that his son’s new girlfriend must be from a poorer background) are repeatedly demonstrated to be false and illustrate the shallow and ridiculous nature of the British class system at that time. Through this use of satire, Wodehouse invites his readers to re-evaluate their own biases and instead aim to judge others based upon their personal merits as opposed to arbitrary and outdated titles.
Throughout the story, Wodehouse’s characters are shown making false assumptions about the social class of others and are demonstrated to be foolish for doing so. Indeed, the events of the story itself are triggered when Lord Emsworth, after discovering his son’s relationship with the head gardener’s cousin, Niagara, assumes her to be of a lower social standing and therefore unable to meet his expectations (his one hope being that Freddie will find a girl “belonging to a good family, and possessing a bit of money of her own”). This assumption that Niagara’s social status must match that of her cousin immediately exposes the character’s outdated views of class and social mobility. While prior to the 18th century there were very few opportunities for lower class families to elevate their status, the Industrial Revolution altered this dynamic entirely, providing individuals with the means to improve their socioeconomic circumstances through manufacturing and business acumen. In presuming that all members of a single family must belong to the same class, Emsworth fails to recognize over a century of social progress. This ignorance is exposed to humorous effect at the end of the story when Emsworth meets with Niagara’s father, Mr Donaldson, a self-made American businessman. During their conversation, it quickly comes apparent that despite lacking formal titles, the Donaldson family hold power far greater than Emsworth’s own, Donaldson apologetically professing that he only has “so much as ten million dollars in the world.” This interaction reveals that had Emsworth simply refrained from making a snap judgment about Niagara’s socioeconomic status from the beginning, he could have avoided the events of the story altogether.
However, despite these presumptions about class being proven incorrect by the narrative, the characters continue to treat one another based upon their social status as opposed to their actions, ultimately perpetuating an arbitrary and ineffective system. The most obvious example of this social hypocrisy occurs in Kensington Gardens, where Lord Emsworth illegally picks some flowers, attracting the attention of the park-keeper, a constable, and a crowd of onlookers. In his “badly fitting tweed suit,” Emsworth does not meet the public’s preconceived expectations of nobility, and therefore when he claims to be an Earl he is met with derision. With no knowledge of his true title, the spectators judge Emsworth for his actions alone; the park keeper labels him as “the blackest type of evil doer,” the constable questions him as he would an average citizen, and the crowd views Emsworth as being rightfully “put through it for pinching flowers.” However, once Lord Emsworth is able to prove his noble status, he is no longer judged by his actions; instead, the constable, described as a “staunch admirer of the aristocracy,” gains a sudden and inexplicable respect for the Earl, and dismisses him without consequence. In portraying a figure of legal authority excusing Emsworth’s crime (even a crime as benign as flower picking) Wodehouse demonstrates the preferential treatment afforded to the British nobility based upon title alone, and exposes the unfairness of the social class system.
Wodehouse reaffirms the existence of outdated social hierarchies in the real world by exploiting the assumptions of the readers themselves. In doing so, he invites his audience to readjust their own perceptions of class. Throughout the story, Wodehouse uses his audience’s preconceptions in order to subvert expectations and generate humor. This is demonstrated in the novel’s very first scene, in which Lord Emsworth is shown with his eye to a “powerful telescope.” At first, a 20th-century reader might assume Emsworth is a figure of dignity and intelligence, given his noble title and depiction with a scientific instrument. However, these assumptions are quickly proven false when Emsworth fails to remove the cap from the telescope before looking through it. In peppering these comical subversions throughout the story, Wodehouse highlights the similarities between the readers and the characters he portrays, demonstrating that his audience is culpable of the same biases as Lord Emsworth himself. Because the Lord is depicted as a foolish man who is narratively punished for his prejudices, in drawing this comparison Wodehouse asks his readers whether it is truly wise to emulate the character’s behavior.
Overall, “The Custody of the Pumpkin” suggests that the class system is an absurd and outdated mode of judgment which leads people to treat one another with unfairness. By exposing people’s propensity to stereotype others, Wodehouse invites his readers to reconsider their prejudices surrounding class, and to instead aim to make judgments based upon individual actions as opposed to first impressions and arbitrary titles.
Subversion of Social Class ThemeTracker
Subversion of Social Class Quotes in The Custody of the Pumpkin
He hated London. He loathed its crowds, its smells, its noises; its omnibuses, its taxis, and its hard pavements. And, in addition to all its other defects, the miserable town did not seem to be able to produce a single decent head gardener. He went from agency to agency, interviewing candidates and not one of them came within a mile of meeting his requirements. He disliked their faces, he distrusted their references.
Without a thought of annoying or doing harm to anybody, he appeared to have unchained the fearful passions of a French Revolution; and there came over a sense of how unjust it was that this sort of thing should be happening to him, of all people – a man already staggering beneath the troubles of a Job.
“Ten million? Ten million? Did you say you had ten million dollars?”
“Between nine and ten, I suppose. Not more. You must remember,” said Mr Donaldson, with a touch of apology, “that conditions have changed very much in America of late. […] But things are coming back. Yes, sir, they’re coming right back. I am a firm believer in President Roosevelt and the New Deal.”