James Thurber's Quirky Quill

Remember The Secret Life of Walter Mitty?

The Ben Stiller film was based on a James Thurber short story. As a matter of fact, there is an earlier movie version from 1947:

With Danny Kaye!

I, however, was introduced to James Thurber via a book that used to lie around the house when I was a young person in the sixties. I was too small to read or want to read but the drawings were very engaging.

The above picture is from goodreads.com

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that my father, then a psychiatrist of no mean repute, bought this book because of his interest in the phenomenon that was Thurber. However, for me, it was just the artwork - so very remarkable!

Some images from the book define for me what it is to experience a Thurber. You can have a taster here.

However, the drawings I loved most were those of dogs. Of Thurber's writing, all that remains is: "If you are a police dog where's your badge?" 

Enjoy two adaptations of some of his works:

The Unicorn in the Garden

The Last Flower

You can read  some Thurber at the Project Gutenberg Canada:
My Life and Hard Times and Further Fables for Our Time. 

Some indifferent work of his is available for somewhat more reasonable rates, on Amazon, than his best or better works which are really expensive, on Amazon and elsewhere.

Alas, the bulk of his work is under copyright. Thus, it is likely that, over time, very few will ever know that he is worth a look. By the time the wonderful US copyright on most of his work dies, so will all memory of Thurber. What a brilliant way to ensure the exclusive survival of mediocre contemporary writers! 

We all enjoy expressing horror at the banning or burning of books. However, in practice, so many of us, patting ourselves on the back for being 'good' law-abiding boys and girls, consent to all kinds of governmental, inter-governmental, legal and social moves that are rapidly and surely removing many good writings and other things of worth from the public domain. In short, we feel morally superior because we support anything done in the name of 'copyright' without giving any thought to what the copyright laws are in fact doing to the collective body of excellent human creative output.

Thanks to copyright laws, the only way to read most good Thurbers today is to shell out a few thousand dollars. 

And why would most do that? No reason to empty your pocket to read the writings of someone not only long dead and gone but about whom you are also likely to know nothing since, over time, there will be fewer and fewer articles written about such writers from the past. A good ploy to make you forget that sort of old hat and go in for the new 'best-seller' by some eminently third-class writer.    

I leave you with glimpses of this complex and entertaining writer in the role of father, and lover.  

A real girl doesn’t care to be kissed, much, unless real love goes with it. 

Read also about other powerful visions and stances of his.

How wholesome is, almost universally, the manifestation of the excellent person! Yet we, the 'voting' public, prefer to read about the 'dark' side of great creative genius, which, often, is nothing but the child of the 'creative' mind of the journalist. Another disservice we do unto ourselves and our race by vilifying folks just for the sheer heck of it. And that 'heck of it' is, basically, our need to have things to get upset and excited about. In a way, once a news report or two has established that the personal life of an author is icky, it absolves us of the burden of improving our minds by reading that person's works.   

Having ended on such sombre reflections, permit me to make it up to you by promising you all the merriment of Stephen Leacock tomorrow!