Partially blind, totally brilliant, for decades James Thurber (1894-1961) entertained readers with the incisiveness and wit of his stories and drawings. His most famous story i
s probably “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,” which was distorted into a film that Thurber detested. Almost everything he did was for print, most of it in The New Yorker. There were exceptions. He wrote the hit play The Male Animal, appeared on stage in an adaptation of his stories called A Thurber Carnival, and collaborated with the composer David Raksin on an animated version of The Unicorn in the Garden, the most famous of more than 75 fables Thurber wrote. The fables inevitably ended with punch lines that served as morals.
This is not the anniversary of Thurber’s birth, his death or of any special occasion connected with him. It is simply a good day to watch The Unicorn in the Garden and listen to Raksin’s lovely score.
This is a classic collection of Thurber stories.
If I’m not mistaken, “The Thurber Carnival” featured music by mellophonist/vibist/vocalist Don Elliott and, further, I believe his group appeared on stage during the show As I recall, Elliott was an early advocate of multi-tracking on records and worked with Quincy Jones on the soundtracks of movies.
What a delight! Thanks for sharing, Doug.
Hello. Nice little off-beat feature. I had a big JT collection for several years, have sold about half now. I must have been 10 or 12 when I first heard anything he’d written (still didn’t know who), somebody reading aloud on the radio his miraculously funny The Night the Bed Fell. I remember laughing so hard I actually fell off the chair to the floor. Discovered his work for real a few years later, the cartoons and fables.
Anyway, by a sort of coincidence, I just posted a piece on a different literary cat, one Willie S., you might find of interest, at the usual
http://www.mrebks.blogspot.com
–I believe it was his brother Lawrence Shakespeare who first said, “If music be the sound of surprise, then hit it, poys!” And we dare not forget his cousin the Duke who added, “It don’t mean a farthing if it ain’t gotsweet thunder” (or some other such).