Thurber was born in Columbus, Ohio to Charles L. Thurber and Mary Agnes (Mame) Fisher Thurber. Both of his parents greatly influenced his work. His father, a sporadically employed clerk and minor politician who dreamed of being a lawyer or an actor, is said to have been the inspiration for the small, timid protagonist typical of many of his stories. Thurber described his mother as a "born comedienne" and "one of the finest comic talents I think I have ever known." She was a practical joker, on one occasion pretending to be crippled and attending a faith healer revival, only to jump up and proclaim herself healed.
Thurber had two brothers, William and Robert. Once, while playing a game of William Tell, his brother William shot James in the eye with an arrow. Because of the lack of medical technology, Thurber lost his eye. This injury would later cause him to be almost entirely blind. During his childhood he was unable to participate in sports and activities because of his injury, and instead developed a creative imagination, which he shared in his writings.
From 1913 to 1918, Thurber attended The Ohio State University, where he was a member of the Phi Kappa Psi Fraternity. He never graduated from the University because his poor eyesight prevented him from taking a mandatory ROTC course. In 1995 he was posthumously awarded a degree.
From 1918 to 1920, at the close of World War I, Thurber worked as a code clerk for the Department of State, first in Washington, D.C. and then at the American Embassy in Paris, France. After this Thurber returned to Columbus, where he began his writing career as a reporter for the Columbus Dispatch from 1921 to 1924. During part of this time, he reviewed current books, films, and plays in a weekly column called "Credos and Curios," a title that later would be given to a posthumous collection of his work. Thurber also returned to Paris in this period, where he wrote for the Chicago Tribune and other newspapers.
In 1925, he moved to Greenwich Village in New York City, getting a job as a reporter for the New York Evening Post. He joined the staff of The New Yorker in 1927 as an editor with the help of his friend and fellow New Yorker contributor, E.B. White. His career as a cartoonist began in 1930 when White found some of Thurber's drawings in a trash can and submitted them for publication. Thurber would contribute both his writings and his drawings to The New Yorker until the 1950s.
Thurber was married twice. In 1922, Thurber married Althea Adams. The marriage was troubled and ended in divorce in May 1935. Adams gave Thurber his only child, his daughter Rosemary. Thurber remarried in June, 1935 to Helen Wismer. His second marriage lasted until he died in 1961, at the age of 66, due to complications from pneumonia, which followed upon a stroke suffered at his home. His last words, aside from the repeated word "God," were "God bless... God damn," according to Helen Thurber.
This book was my bedtime reading for several months; it contains stories from several of James Thurber’s short story collections, but oddly does not contain “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty”. Even so, Thurber makes wonderful reading, at bedtime or any other time.
I do not know who coined the term “the war between the sexes”, but Thurber’s characters not only believe that there is such a war, but that women are winning. Thurber’s men are diffident, argumentative, and submissive to their women; Thurber’s women are opinionated, forthright, and inevitably get their way. Many of the short stories are observations on facets of ordinary life that go awry. Others deal with Thurber’s humorous views of self-help books, which appear to have changed not at all from his time to ours (the latest stories in this collection having been published in 1937). Finally, it must be noted that the collection contains hundreds of Thurber’s doodles of men, women, dogs, and other assorted creatures and things.
This collection was a joy to read, and I am very glad to have this in my personal library.
এটি একটি আধুনিক ফেবল। লিখেছেন জেমস থার্বার। রচনাকাল আগস্ট ২৬, ১৯৩৯। সাধারণত এ ধরনের গল্প শিশুদের জন্য লেখা হয়ে থাকে। তবে থার্বার সমাজ বা রাষ্ট্রের কিছু বিষয় সমালোচনা করার জন্যে প্রতীকী উপস্থাপনের কৌশল হিসেবে এই সাহিত্য-কৌশলটি বেছে নেন। গল্পটির বেশ কিছু অন্তর্নিহিত অর্থ আছে। গল্পটি মূলত সামাজিক-রাজনৈতিক-ধর্মীয় এলিগরি। ব্রডভাবে বিশ্বের যে কোনো সংখ্যালঘু সম্প্রদায়ের অবস্থাকে খরগোশের অবস্থার সঙ্গে তুলনা করা চলে। নেকড়েরা হল সংখ্যাগুরু, শাসকশ্রেণি। বিশ্বের বহু দেশের মতো বাংলাদেশেও সংখ্যালঘু সম্প্রদায়ের লোকজন নানাভাবে বঞ্চনা ও নৃশংসতার শিকার হয়ে আসছেন। গত কয়েকদিনে দেশের আলোচিত বিষয়ই হল ‘সংখ্যালঘু নির্যাতন’। গল্পের মতোই কোনো একটা অজুহাত খাড়া করে এই নির্যাতন চালানো হচ্ছে। নাসিরনগরে আমরা দেখেছি, একজন হিন্দুছেলে কাবাশরিফের ছবি বিকৃত করেছে এই গুজব রটিয়ে মহল্লা ধরে হিন্দুসম্প্রদায়ের বাড়িঘরে আগুন দেওয়া হয়েছে। ‘বিকৃত’ সেই ছবি হামলাকারীদের কেউ দেখেছে কিনা সন্দেহ। প্রশাসনও হয়ত সেই ছবি না দেখেই ‘ধর্মের অবমাননা’ না করার নির্দেশ দিয়েছে দেশবাসীকে। উগ্রপন্থীরা একটা কারণ দেখিয়ে অনেকাংশে পার পেয়ে যাচ্ছে। গল্পে দেখা যাচ্ছে—ভূমিকম্প, কিংবা বন্যার মতো প্রাকৃতিক দুর্যোগের জন্যে পৃথিবীর সবচেয়ে নিরীহ প্রাণী খরগোশকে দায়ি করা হচ্ছে। এটা অ্যাবসার্ড, আমরা জানি। কিন্তু তবুও প্রতিবার বলা হয়েছে, ‘সবাই জানে যে, যারা গাজর কুরে কুরে খায় এবং যাদের বড় বড় কান আছে তাদের কারণেই বন্যা হয়।’ অর্থাৎ ঘোষণার মধ্যেই বলে দেওয়া হচ্ছে যে, তুমি মানো আর না মানো, বিষয়টা সবাই জানে! এখানে একটা মিথ্যেকে সত্য বলে চাপিয়ে দেওয়া হচ্ছে। এভাবেই অনেক মিথ্যেকে আমাদের মাথার ওপর চাপিয়ে দিচ্ছে অদৃশ্য একটা শক্তি। যে কারণে আমরা দেখেছি, যখনই কোনো ব্লগার খুন হয়েছে তখন প্রশাসন খুনির পেছনে লাগার চেয়ে বেশি গুরুত্ব দিয়ে যে খুন হয়েছে তার ব্যক্তিজীবন ঘাটাঘাটি করে খুন হওয়ার যুৎসই কারণ বের করতে গেছে। এরপর বলেছে, যে উগ্রবাদীদের উসকে দেবে তাকে আইনের আওতায় আনা হবে। হয়েছেও। গল্পের নীতিকথায় বলা হয়েছে, ‘পলাতকদের এ পৃথিবীতে কোনো স্থান নেই’। এটি ঐতিহাসিক সত্য। এদেশের সংখ্যালঘু সম্প্রদায় কিংবা ক্ষুদ্রনৃগোষ্ঠীর মানুষরা কোথাও পালিয়ে গেলেও তাদের অবস্থার বিশেষ পরিবর্তন ঘটবে না। কারণ তারা নিজদেশ ছেড়ে অন্যকোথাও গিয়ে উদ্বাস্তু-জীবন পাবে।
The more things change, the more things stay the same.
Here in 2024 we are awash with social media influences, influencing us with their influence for good and bad or, if you're lucky, you're not even aware of it all. We like to lament that ours is a unique era filled with ths kind of vapid crapola, but at least a portion of this collection of stories tells us we're not. The medium has changed and opened the floodgates, admittedly, but there were folks flapping their gums about being the mostest and the bestest and the influencingest in Thurber's day too.
We all know Carnegie and his "How to Win Friends and Influence People," of course, but Thurber satirizes the many, many imitators who jumped on that particular bandwagon. Those might be my least favorite portion of this book, but it was still enlightening to read them and see that the same kind of crap we put up with today existed back then as well.
My favorite from this collection?
"The Private Life of Mr. Bidwell," wherein the titular character annoys his wife by amusing himself at parties by seeing how long he can hold his breath. Shenanigans ensue. Thurber at his best. I won't spoil the story, but look it up if you have the time.
A collection of mostly minor stories from arguably the greatest wit of the 1930s to the 1950s. The cartoons that are sprinkled throughout are not his best, but the book is a treasure chest of his humor and his incredibly satiric understanding of human nature.
I guess I am not a "Thurber Guy". I could not gain traction of interest in any of the short stories. That's a shame, as I had high hopes for enjoying this anthology.
If you don’t know anything about James Thurber except that his name is familiar, you might want to start your acquaintance by watching the 2013 remake of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, directed by and starring Ben Stiller. This classic Thurber short story was also dramatized on film in 1947 with Danny Kaye, but Thurber hated it. No one knows if he hated the 2013 version.
However, if the wry humor of these movies appeals to you, or if you enjoy the so-called War between the Sexes, then you want to try more Thurber. The familiar household battleground was a frequent topic in his work. He was a famous wit and cartoonist, writing and drawing for The New Yorker from 1927 well into the 50’s.
The collection 92 Stories also contains some original drawings, which have a distinct flavor of the cartoons of the early 20th century. (Dorothy Parker famously remarked his cartoons had a “semblance of unbaked cookies.”) Two of his most renowned stories are collected here—The Greatest Man in the World and If Grant had been drinking at Appomattox.
The volume The Middle-Aged Man on the Flying Trapeze is reproduced in 92 Stories in its entirety, with many fun accounts of daily life. For those who suffer lazily rather than mend or replace torn or ill-fitting clothing, The Gentleman is Cold from this volume is required reading. (I subsequently checked over my own winter clothing, which I found mostly lying in a basket with the (still) dirty items from a long vacation.) We must all be relieved, I’m sure, that fashions have changed so much since those tedious and fastidious days.
Don’t put this reading off too long—winter won’t wait, and these stories are much too dry for the cold season. ~Tessa August 2015 4.5 out of 5 stars (less a half star for those stories I found too, too much like my own life.)
I picked this up at a yard sale on the basis of having read one of the stories in high school. "The Greatest Man in the World" was then, and is now, a great short story.
I started this book, which is mostly short stories and essays written and published in shorter volumes, and zipped thru the first 300 pages. After that however... I really got bogged down in the idiosyncratic style. I was never too excited to pick it up again. It might have helped if they hadn't predominantly been written in the 1930's and some are certainly dated. It probably read a lot funnier at the time.
My husband reads aloud, beautifully, and this collection of Thurber short stories is our current shared reading. Soothing, mildly amusing, they are stories full of moments of recognition of circumstances and incidents similar to our own lives in a rural region within driving distance of New York City. If you're drowsy they're unlikely to jar you awake in laughter or startle you with their brilliance of craft or observation, they are just very pleasant reading. And the illustrations add greatly to their gentle charm.
A couple of pieces are worth taking out and thinking twice about, but the rest are nothing more than wisecracks. I even suspect that some details are so deliberately crafted, as if made up for people to "admire". But to be honest, this is still the highest level of journalists. Reading most journalists' articles, you might feel like throwing up after just one or two. Yet these gigmans continue to boast exaggeratedly, proclaiming themselves the "conscience of humanity""the uncrowned kings"... Hard to truly understand why these maggots of our inner world are still crawling and gnawing happily.
If I had three wishes, I think I would spend one on meeting James Thurber. I just love everything he does. I OD'd a little on this one near the end, trying to finish it quickly, but if you read it in moderation, his little pieces are nearly perfect. The story "One is a Wanderer" shocked me in a good way, dark and sad amid so many laughs.
I originally heard of John Thurber from reading "The New Yorker." I was thrilled to be snooping around my parents bookshelves only to find this collection of short stories!! I have really been enjoying them!!
James walks through rainy Manhattan in the 1940s and the people he passes yell at him for not wearing the proper winter attire. This makes him either the OG punk, or the mid century proto-New Englander that wears gym shorts in January.