Did you know that magazine writers and short story crafters can have greatest hits collections, just like any band? That’s what The Thurber Carnival is for prolific writer James Thurber.
There is something wonderful about Thurber’s prose, as well as his drawings, his perspective, his personal history, and his humor. All of these are on display in this collection which he describes as a book that “contains a selection of the stories and drawings the old boy did in his prime, a period which extended roughly from the year Lindbergh flew the Atlantic to the day coffee was rationed. He presents this to his readers with his sincere best wishes for a happy new world.”
The collection was published in 1945, from articles, short stories, and cartoons previously published in The New Yorker. While the subject matter can be dated, the themes and humor are timeless.
Perhaps you know of Thurber’s most famous short story, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,” which I had read at some point. However, until I came across it in this collection, I hadn’t made the connection to Thurber, because I believe it was required reading in my early academic years,. Fifth or sixth grade wasn’t just a long time ago; it was a time when I paid as little attention as possible to anything deemed “required reading.”
But such things as “The Macbeth Murder Mystery” is damned brilliant, and “The Breaking Up of the Winships” became a personal favorite. Why did I enjoy the destruction of a relationship short story so much? Because it’s remarkably prescient, now in an era where people choose more metaphoric hills to die on than ever before. A marriage falling apart over an argument about who’s the better entertainer between Greta Garbo or Donald Duck feels both modern and tame.
Despite those obviously dated references, and the fact that the technology of the times may have changed since the original publication of these pieces, the authenticity of the people and dynamics have remained the same. How people deal with health, wealth, and technology seems, like that authenticity of character, to be universal and timeless.
Some examples from the text to prove the timelessness:
“Every person carries in his consciousness the old scar, or the fresh wound, of some harrowing misadventure with a contraption of some sort. I know people who would not deposit a nickel and a dime in a cigarette-vending machine or push the lever even if a diamond necklace came out. I know dozens who would not climb into an airplane even if it didn’t move off the ground. In none of these people have I discerned what I would call a neurosis, an “exaggerated” fear; I have discerned only a natural caution in a world made up of gadgets that whir and whine and whiz and shriek and sometimes explode.” Dated sure, but still relevant.
“The undisciplined mind, in short, is far better adapted to the confused world in which we live today than the streamlined mind. This is, I am afraid, no place for a streamlined mind.” Scary, but wildly prescient.
“‘Achievement,’ he used to say, ‘is the fool’s gold of idiots.’” This is frankly just well said, especially when put into the context of our digital world and the shallow nature of social media.
Is it humor or satire? Is it short stories for entertainment with dashes or absences of humor or satire? The answer may simply be that it’s brilliance in the short form. This book is not just a collection of essays, short stories, cartoons, and drawings. It is inspired, brilliant, and timeless storytelling that makes me wonder why I don’t read more short-form text. Perhaps, it’s because personally, the only contemporary author I’ve read that comes close is Chuck Klosterman, and he is also an island of a writer.
So if you have the ability, from your local library, at a book sale, or even getting it online, I can’t recommend The Thurber Carnival enough for those interested in writings that take very little time to entertain you and make you think. On that note, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite morals from the fables section of the book; You might as well fall flat on your face as lean over too far backwards.