“The Custody of the Pumpkin” begins when the story’s protagonist, Clarence Threepwood, 9th Earl of Emsworth, discovers his son’s “entanglement” with the daughter of his estate’s head gardener, Angus McAllister. Incensed by the relationship, Emsworth takes on the “forthright truculence of a large land owner in the early Normal period ticking off a serf” and attempts to have McAllister banish the girl. In response, McAllister simply resigns, and in his absence the Lord’s prize pumpkin (which he had hoped to win first place at the Shrewsbury Agricultural Show) begins to wilt. The rest of the story concerns Emsworth’s efforts to either reinstate McAllister or find a suitable replacement. Wodehouse’s narrative portrays Emsworth as a bumbling and ineffective character, described as being akin to an “elderly leopard” and shown frequently being defied by his supposed subordinates. This could be seen as a reflection of the declining power of the English aristocracy at the time of the story’s publication in early 20th-century England. Due to factors such as the Industrial Revolution, the rise of the middle classes, and financial pressure in the wake of the First World War, during this period the British landed gentry held less control than ever before, and Lord Emsworth’s repeated (and failed) attempts to assert himself seems to parallel this. Overall, the story suggests that the aristocracy of old can no longer continue to act as they once did without being met with resistance, and it portrays an exchange of power occurring between nobility and the working class.
Throughout the story, the concerns of the upper classes are shown to be entirely trivial, which emphasizes their dwindling social influence. Emsworth’s pumpkin represents this point, acting as a symbol of aristocratic power. Early on, the omniscient narrator notes that Emsworth views the vegetable as his contribution to his family’s “scroll of honour.” This attitude serves to highlight the diminished jurisdiction of Emsworth’s lordly title. Whereas his ancestors had “sent out from Blandings Castle statesmen and warriors, governors and leaders of the people,” Emsworth’s ultimate goal is merely to earn first prize for best pumpkin at the Shrewsbury Show. However, despite his ambitions being far less grand than that of his predecessors, Emsworth views his task with equal (if not greater) importance, a fact illustrated by a dream sequence in which the King himself is furious over his inability to cultivate the vegetable. Emsworth’s genuine anxiety over the pumpkin’s success and fear of sovereign disappointment further demonstrates how insignificant the concerns of the British nobility have become.
However, while the role of the modern upper classes is shown to be far less substantial, members of the English aristocracy continue to act as if they hold the same authority as before, but this pretension is not without consequences. Emsworth, in particular, is punished by the narrative for attempting to invoke his lordly title in order to get his way. This is demonstrated at the story’s beginning, when Emsworth makes unreasonable demands of McAllister despite knowing that “modern earls must think twice before pulling the feudal stuff on their employees.” As a direct result of this action, McAllister resigns. This causes Emsworth’s pumpkin—his sole noble responsibility—to wilt, and later in Kensington Gardens a crowd mocks the Lord and strips him of his rank. This scene is compared (albeit lightheartedly) to the French Revolution, a period of political upheaval in the late 18th century in which French citizens uprooted a centuries old feudal system and executed the country’s monarchy.
Despite his title, it is not Lord Emsworth who is portrayed as having control, but his supposed subordinates, which speaks to the turning social tide in 20th-century England. McAllister represents this point best: when Emsworth attempts to exert authority over his head-gardener, McAllister simply chooses to hand in his notice. Wodehouse draws a humorous comparison between this action and the First War of Scottish Independence, in which the Scottish fought and succeeded against English rule. McAllister’s action is thus framed as an act of rebellion and reclamation of control, and it represents the shifting attitude of the lower classes towards the monarchy. Additionally, while Emsworth views the pumpkin as his own noble duty, the success of the vegetable is ultimately McAllister’s decision. It is not until Emsworth acts with humility and doubles McAllister’s salary that the gardener elects to return, at which point he restores the health of the pumpkin and Emsworth is able to fulfill his goal by winning first prize the Shrewsbury Show.
Ultimately, it seems that Wodehouse’s portrayal of Emsworth as being obsessed with the trivial and lacking in any real authority is a comment upon on the waning social influence of the era’s nobility, and as such McAllister’s resistance—symbolic of lower-class rebellion—appears to be a positive. This point is highlighted at the story’s conclusion, where Emsworth receives credit for the pumpkin’s success by his peers, while McAllister stands by as a silent witness. While Wodehouse emphasizes that the pair stand at one another’s sides, implying a newfound equality between them, the audience is left to consider for themselves which of the two men is truly more deserving of the pumpkin and, by extension, the power.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Aristocracy and Power ThemeTracker
Aristocracy and Power Quotes in The Custody of the Pumpkin
If [Freddie] was allowed to live at London, he piled up debts and got into mischief; and when you jerked him back into the purer surroundings of Blandings Castle, he just mooned about the place, moping broodily. Hamlet’s society at Elsinore must have had much the same effect on his stepfather as did that of Freddie Threepwood at Blandings on Lord Emsworth.
And, though normally a fair-minded and reasonable man, well aware that modern earls must think twice before pulling the feudal stuff on their employés, he took on the forthright truculence of a large landowner of the early Normal period ticking off a serf.
A curious expression came into Angus McAllister’s face—always excepting the occupied territories. It was the look of a man who has not forgotten Bannockburn, a man conscious of belonging to the country of William Wallace and Robert the Bruce.
He had gone with King George to show his Gracious Majesty the pumpkin promising the treat of a lifetime; and, when they arrived, there in the corner of the frame was a shrivelled thing the size of a pea. He woke, sweating, with the Sovereign’s disappointed screams ringing in his ears[.]
In a crass and materialistic world there must inevitably be a scattered few in whom pumpkins touch no chord. The Hon. Frederick Threepwood was one of these. He was accustomed to speak in mockery of all pumpkins[.]
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.
There is every reason to suppose that Mr Donaldson had subscribed for years to those personality courses advertised in the magazines which guarantee to impart to the pupil who takes ten correspondence lessons the ability to look the boss in the eye and make him wilt. Mr Donaldson looked Lord Emsworth in the eye, and Lord Emsworth wilted.
“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.”
In an age of rush and hurry like that of today, an age in which there are innumerable calls on the time of everyone, it is possible that here and there throughout the ranks of those who have read this chronicle there may be one or two who for various reasons found themselves unable to attend the last Agricultural Show at Shrewsbury.
