Thurber's Carnival

Born on a night of "wild portent and high wind," James Thurber was a man who was fated to be a little bit odd.  Thurber was not only capable of making fun of his own follies, but was able to identify with others in the process.  This very capability, is exactly what enabled him to succeed as a humorist.

My first encounter with Thurber occurred when I was in the third grade (I know how this sounds, but I was advanced for my age).  As I rested, tucked under my covers so that Medusa could not sneak into my room and turn me into stone, my mother floated past my doorway, and into my room.  She was holding a book.  I remember the cover as if it were yesterday: an orange border framed a man and a woman, who were riding on a carousel.  My mother, a professional storyteller by this point, took a deep breath, and began to read.

"Once upon a sunny morning a man who sat in a breakfast nook looked up from his scrambled eggs to see a white unicorn with a golden horn quietly cropping roses in the garden..."

I was in awe.  Is this the writing of a god?  Or Batman?  No, that cannot be.  This is unmistakeably the writing of James Thurber.

I think that this reaction had much to do with the moral of the story, which is to "not count your boobies until they are hatched."  Either way, James Thurber has become my all-time favorite author.  He is amazing.  And possibly Batman.