Article Of Interest: “What’s So Funny About James Thurber?”
When I first came across the title of this article by Holly Brubach that appeared in the November 1982 issue of Vogue, I thought, “Oh brother, here we go — another rethinking of Thurber’s place in American letters.” But once I got hold of and read the two page article (available through Proquest, for those who have access), I was thrilled to find that it was the opposite.
I can’t show you Ms. Brubach’s article in its entirety, of course, but I’m going to show a few snippets I found particularly interesting. She writes:
“…throughout his long career, he was a literary standard-bearer, turning out consistently meticulous prose. His best books — including My Life and Hard Times, The Thurber Album, Let Your Mind Alone, and Is Sex Necessary (written with [E.B.] White) — are decisive victories in the war to save the sentence from impending demolition.”
“Well then, what is it that makes a reader recognize in Thurber a kindred spirit? Having kicked this question around for the past seven or eight years, I think I’ve finally come up with an answer: it’s indignation…it’s one miserable soul shaking his fist at the sky...There is too much that needs to be said, too many phonies to expose, too many self-help handbooks promising happiness ever after when everybody has a right to know there is no such thing.”
And here Ms. Brubach cites a Thurber quote (from a 1958 letter written to E.B. White, mentioning a recent issue of The New Yorker. In those days the issues were sometimes hundreds of pages. Thurber is commenting on The New Yorker‘s custom of carrying obits for its contributors on the back page):
“Imagine, though, being buried between black borders under 248 pages of prose and advertising! Let us, for God’s sake, not die in November.”
As Ms. Brubach then points out, Thurber died in November (of 1961), and his obit was indeed published between black borders in The New Yorker (in the issue of November 11, on page 247). Sorry, I blurred the text so as not to step on copyright toes (the obit, unsigned, as was the custom then, was written by William Shawn and E.B. White, but mostly by White):
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James Thurber’s A-Z Entry:
James Thurber Born, Columbus, Ohio, December 8, 1894. Died 1961, New York City. New Yorker work: 1927 -1961, with several pieces run posthumously. According to the New Yorker’s legendary editor, William Shawn, “In the early days, a small company of writers, artists, and editors — E.B. White, James Thurber, Peter Arno, and Katharine White among them — did more to make the magazine what it is than can be measured.”
Key cartoon collection: The Seal in the Bedroom and Other Predicaments (Harper & Bros., 1932). Key anthology (writings & drawings): The Thurber Carnival (Harper & Row, 1945). There have been a number of Thurber biographies. Burton Bernstein’s Thurber (Dodd, Mead, 1975) and Harrison Kinney’s James Thurber: His Life and Times (Henry Holt & Co., 1995) are essential. Website
Who wrote the NY’r obituary?