The Beast in Me and Other Animals

by James Thurber

These twenty-three humorous stories and essays and more than one hundred illustrations find James Thurber in absolutely top form. The book concludes with a sampling of articles Thurber wrote for the New Yorker’s “The Talk of the Town,” demonstrating his often overlooked skill as a reporter.


Mainly men and women : My friend Domesticus --
The glass of fashion --
Am not I your Rosalind? --
The princess and the tin box --
How to name a dog --
Thix --
The waters of the moon --
Exhibit X --
The lady on the bookcase --
The ordeal of Mr. Matthews --
The dewey dewey fog --
A guide to the literary pilgrimage --
Prehistoric animals of the middle west --
Here come the tigers --
Look homeward, Jeannie --
A call on Mrs. Forrester --
The beast in the dingle. Less alarming creatures : A new natural history --
Extinct animals of Bermuda --
A gallery of real creatures. Soapland : O pioneers! --
Ivorytown, Rinsoville, Anacinburg, and Crisco Corners --
Sculptors in ivory --
The invisible people --
The listening women

Genres: Humor, Fiction, Essays, 20th Century, Short Stories, Collections

360 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1948

About the author

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.

Reviews

[William Leight · Rating 3 out of 5]

A rather miscellaneous collection of pieces. Of the five sections, one, “Soapland”, which I skimmed on this rereading, is a history of radio soap operas (the book precedes the advent of TV), and another, “Time Exposures”, which I skipped this time, is a collection of old New Yorker “Talk of the Town" shorts. Two others are largely devoted to drawings, one of imaginary animals and the other of cartoons, the latter consisting of two linked series which are only ok and some probably former New Yorker cartoons which are good but not amazing. Far better cartoons can be found in “The Lady on the Bookcase”, part of the first section, “Mainly Men and Women”, which is the reason to read the book. “Mainly Men and Women” is a selection of practically every style of Thurber piece there is, including the cartoons, covered, at least somewhat tongue-in-cheek, in “The Lady on the Bookcase”: both the writing and the cartoons are quite funny. The section kicks off with “My Friend Domesticus”, a very typically Thurber piece about crickets which manages to be amusing despite quoting extensively from the Encyclopedia Brittanica. “The Glass of Fashion” is a rather Perelman-esque piece in which Thurber responds to an article supposedly laying out how he and some other celebrities were carefully arranged to display to best advantage in the Algonquin Hotel restaurant. “Am I Not Your Rosalind” is one of Thurber’s constricting and claustrophobic stories, where you’re stuck at close quarters with several unsympathetic people: it’s very well-written but slightly unpleasant. “The Princess and the Tin Box” is one of Thurber’s fables, with the usual cynical twist at the end. “How to Name a Dog” is an amusing essay that is, as Thurber admits in the middle, mostly about how not to name a dog. “Thix” also has a more than passing resemblance to Perelman in its satire on radio adventure programs for kids, though the interval in which Thurber discusses the nickel novels and Wild West plays of his youth is pure Thurber. “The Waters of the Moon” is a brief satire on literary critics, and literary parties. “Exhibit X” is mostly a reminiscence of Thurber’s days as a code clerk in the State Department: like “The Glass of Fashion”, it also gets in a few pokes at the Red Scare of the late ‘40s. “The Ordeal of Mr. Mathews” is another Thurber-at-a-party story: this time, his conversational opponent is a businessman who very obviously has no idea how to respond to Thurber’s complaint about the death of witty repartee, and how everything that Thurber is ever quoted as saying in the media is dull enough to have been said by Calvin Coolidge. “The Dewey Dewey Fog” is a short and very funny satire on what was presumably the new trend of referring to a politician as trying to out-somebody somebody (it's inspired by Republican presidential candidate Dewey being accused of trying to out-Truman Truman). “A Guide to the Literary Pilgrimage” is in fact Thurber’s explanation of why he thinks literary pilgrimages are silly. “Prehistoric Animals of the Middle West” consists of a number of drawings of ridiculous made-up creatures, with commentary by a fictional assistant of the imaginary and apparently also incompetent paleontologist Dr. Millmoss, best known for being eaten by a hippo in a cartoon that can also be found in this volume. “Here Comes the Tigers” starts out by threatening to be one of the claustrophobic stories I mentioned above but is actually on one of Thurber’s favorite themes, word games. “Look Homeward, Jeannie” starts out as a piece about dogs who travel a long way to return home and ends up as being about a (possibly fictional) dog of Thurber’s who left for greener pastures. Finally, “A Call on Mrs. Forrester” is a Henry James parody (I like Henry James a lot, but his style does lend itself to parody) which, though quite good of its kind, is not worth reading for those who don’t know James. All in all, some very enjoyable pieces but nothing that I would list as among Thurber’s work, with the possible exception of “The Lady on the Bookcase”. And the presence of “Soapland” and “Time Exposures” probably means that the book is best suited for Thurber completists.

[Liz · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not exactly Thurber's greatest hits, but it's still delightfully droll. I quite enjoyed "The Hoodwink on a spray of Ragamuffin" and "Exhibit X." I could, on the other hand, have lived without his musings about soap operas, but I suppose they're a useful time capsule.

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

“A Call on Mrs Forrester” is an absolutely stunning piece of short-story fiction.

[russell barnes · Rating 3 out of 5]

I started reading this when I was 15 or 16 and thought I was terribly clever; I wasn't and gave up.

Now I am terribly clever I've given Thurber's 30s-era humour another go, and weirdly it's better the second time round. Okay, so the two Henry James homages are still awfully dense, and half the celebrities he name drops have been dead for at least 60 years, but the rest of it is ace. His cartoons are the easy way in, but his regular feature pieces culled from the likes of The New Yorker are fascinating not just for the wry humour he exhibits, but for their historical import. He goes up the Empire State Building whilst it's being built, he hang around the Waldorf-Astoria on it's last day before demolition, and he talks about the massive world of Radio Soaps, and the impact new-fangled video technology will have on it.

All very nice and I'm glad I've re-read it, but it's not saved it from going to Oxfam and again, it not's helping my New Year's Resolution to read more modern literature. I might just give up that one to be honest...

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This collection of Thurber shorts is funny in a coy, quiet sort of way. You can tell by his composition, his structure, that he really enjoyed writing, and words, and nerdy book-type-things. There's an energizing quality to it--an apparent passion. I'll even excuse him from his blatant sexism because, well, it was published in the 30s in Ohio, but mostly because his sexism and contempt for "the common housewife," as he calls her, clearly stems from his own masculine insecurities and ineptitude. He's a bookworm. Odd and clumsy in social settings. And he's endearing because he shares that side of himself. His sexism is a kind that places the female as a tyrannical manipulator that always ends up having the upper hand...and likely, that's usually how Thurber felt in female presence. It's cute, almost. Wrong, but still cute.

[bethanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

James Thurber is a great humorist and I have been wanting to read some of his books for quite sometime. I started with The Beast In Me and Other Animals and it's a great read. I'm bummed that this was the version I ended up getting from a swapping site because the book was falling apart and I was promised a different version of the book. But this was a quick read (since half of the book is illustration) and I enjoy the humor that Thurber uses to tell his stories. I'd definitely pick up more of Thurber's books to read and maybe a new copy of this book so I don't have to read it so quickly in fear of it falling apart.

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's amazing how timeless most of this collection of Thurber pieces is--a longish, five chapter essay on radio soap operas, despite referring to long gone serials, is quite interesting and informed by irony, and even a collection of "Talk of the Town" bits written by Thurber in the 1920s and 1930s stand on their own, although I had to google "Ely Culbertson" to really understand the two pieces about contract bridge games.

[Kathy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Cocktail parties and trivia. The only piece of any interest in this book is a brief account of Gertrude Stein doing a book signing. Staggering to realise that this American writer had absolutely no comment to make about the political and economic situation in the late 1920s and 1930s.

[Carole · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anything thurber writes I love.

[Christy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Because I am a Thurber completist, it was an extra pleasure to find out I hadn't already read all the good stuff!

[Noah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fantastic collection of stories.

[Brian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Easy to read I'm glued to reading. I'm hooked it's like an adventure with my mind. I'm finished