Everyone has done it. You’re sitting in traffic or waiting for the microwave to beep, and suddenly, you’re not there anymore. You’re a surgeon saving a life with a fountain pen. Or maybe you're a fighter pilot screaming through a storm. That’s the magic of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty James Thurber first gave the world in 1939. It’s a tiny story—barely over 2,000 words—but it’s basically the blueprint for the modern midlife crisis.
James Thurber wasn't just writing a funny sketch for The New Yorker. He was tapping into a universal human glitch: the gap between who we are and who we imagine ourselves to be. Walter Mitty isn't a hero. He’s a guy who can't remember to buy puppy biscuits. He’s henpecked. He’s inept with a wrench. Honestly, he's kind of a loser in the "real" world. But in his head? He’s invincible.
The Anatomy of a Mitty Moment
What most people get wrong about The Secret Life of Walter Mitty James Thurber is thinking it’s just about escapism. It’s deeper. It’s about the soul-crushing weight of mundane expectations. Thurber uses the "pocketa-pocketa-pocketa" sound of a car engine or a printing press to bridge the gap between Mitty’s boring reality and his high-stakes fantasies.
Look at the structure. It’s rhythmic.
Mitty is driving his wife to the hairdresser. Bam. Suddenly he’s a Commander piloting a "huge, hurtling eight-engined Navy hydroplane."
His wife yells at him for driving too fast. Snap. Back to reality.
He puts on gloves because she told him to. Then he takes them off to look rebellious. Then he puts them back on when he passes a garage because he's embarrassed that he can't fix his own car. It’s painful. We’ve all been there—performing a version of ourselves for strangers just so we don't look like idiots.
Thurber’s genius lies in the "trigger." Mitty’s fantasies are never random. When he passes a hospital, he becomes a world-renowned surgeon. When he hears a newsboy shouting about a trial, he becomes a crack shot testifying in a courtroom. The world feeds his delusions because the world is too boring to handle otherwise.
Why Thurber’s Humor is Actually Pretty Dark
James Thurber had a rough go of it, which is probably why his humor has teeth. He lost an eye as a kid during a game of "William Tell" with his brother. By the time he was writing his best work, his remaining eye was failing. He was literally losing his sight of the real world.
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Maybe that’s why Mitty’s daydreams are so vivid.
In the story, Mrs. Mitty is often seen as the villain. She’s loud, she’s bossy, and she treats Walter like a child. But if you look closer, she’s just trying to keep the man alive. Walter is dangerous! He’s drifting into oncoming traffic. He’s nearly getting hit by cars in parking lots. Thurber captures that specific type of marriage where one person has become the "manager" and the other has checked out entirely.
It’s not a happy story. It’s a tragedy dressed up in a comedy suit.
The Evolution of the "Mittyesque" Archetype
The term "Mittyesque" actually made it into the English dictionary. That’s how much The Secret Life of Walter Mitty James Thurber resonated. It describes a person who spends more time in their head than in the room.
We saw this evolve through the 1947 film starring Danny Kaye. That version changed a lot. It turned Mitty into a real hero who eventually gets the girl and solves a mystery. It softened the blow. Then came the 2013 Ben Stiller version. Stiller’s take was more of a "hero’s journey" where the character actually goes to Greenland and jumps into helicopters.
But here’s the thing: Thurber’s original Mitty never goes anywhere.
That’s the point.
The real Walter Mitty dies in his head. The story ends with him facing a firing squad, "undefeated, inscrutable to the last." He doesn't win. He doesn't change. He just finds a more dignified way to fail.
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Breaking Down the Five Iconic Fantasies
Thurber weaves five distinct daydreams into the narrative. They aren't just random action scenes; they represent the masculine tropes of the 1930s that Mitty feels he’s failing at.
- The Pilot: The hydroplane commander. This is about mastery over technology and nature. Mitty, in reality, can't even back a car into a garage without a mechanic smirking at him.
- The Surgeon: Dr. Mitty. This represents intellect and the power of life and death. Real-life Mitty is told what to do by his wife and even the parking lot attendant.
- The Assassin: The courtroom scene. Here, he is the dangerous "man of action." In reality, he’s a guy who forgets what "puppy biscuits" are called.
- The Pilot (Again): The Captain in the dugout. This is about courage under fire. Mitty is currently waiting for his wife to finish getting her hair done.
- The Condemned: The firing squad. The ultimate escape. If you can't be a hero, be a martyr.
Fact-Checking the Thurber Legacy
There are a few myths about this story that need clearing up. First, people often think Thurber wrote this as a novel. Nope. It’s a short story. It appeared in the March 18, 1939, issue of The New Yorker.
Second, some literary critics argue that Mitty has a clinical dissociation disorder. Honestly? That’s overthinking it. Thurber was a humorist. He was writing about the "little man" trope—a popular theme in the early 20th century (think Charlie Chaplin). It’s about the friction between the industrial, loud, demanding world and the quiet, sensitive individual.
Thurber once said his drawings (which were often of grumpy dogs and confused men) were "pre-intentional." He didn't plan them; they just happened. Mitty feels the same way. He doesn't choose to daydream; the daydreams hijack him.
The Language of Pocketa-Pocketa
One of the most famous bits of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty James Thurber gave us is the onomatopoeia "pocketa-pocketa-pocketa."
It sounds like a heartbeat.
It sounds like a broken machine.
It’s the rhythm of Mitty’s internal life.
Thurber uses this sound in multiple fantasies. It ties them together. It suggests that all these different heroes—the pilot, the surgeon, the soldier—are actually the same guy. They are all just versions of the machine that is Walter Mitty’s brain, trying to process a world that doesn't make sense to him.
How to Read Mitty in the 2020s
We live in the age of the "main character" trend on social media. Everyone is trying to curate their life to look like a movie. In a way, we are all Walter Mitty now. We take a photo of a coffee cup and imagine we’re "the type of person who enjoys quiet mornings in Paris," even if we’re actually late for work in a cubicle in Scranton.
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But Thurber’s Mitty didn't have an audience. He wasn't doing it for likes. He was doing it for survival.
If you’re revisiting the story, pay attention to the silence. Pay attention to the moments where Mitty is just standing there, looking like a statue while his wife yells at him. There is a deep, quiet rebellion in his refusal to engage with reality. He’s not lazy; he’s occupied.
Real-World Takeaways from Mitty’s "Secret Life"
If you want to actually apply some of this "Mittyesque" energy to your life (without crashing your car), there are a few things to consider about the psychology of daydreaming.
- Constructive Daydreaming: Psychologists like Jerome L. Singer have studied "positive-constructive daydreaming." It’s actually good for your brain. It helps with problem-solving and planning. Mitty’s problem wasn't the daydreaming; it was the fact that he used it to avoid his life rather than enhance it.
- The Power of Narrative: We all tell ourselves stories. If the story you tell yourself is that you’re a "loser who forgets puppy biscuits," you’ll stay that way. Mitty’s fantasies were his attempt to rewrite his own narrative, even if it was only for ten minutes at a time.
- Empathy for the "Quiet Ones": Next time you see someone staring off into space at a bus stop, remember Walter. They might be leading a revolution or performing open-heart surgery.
The legacy of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty James Thurber is that it gave a name to the invisible part of being human. It validated the idea that our inner lives are just as "real" as our outer ones. Maybe even more so.
To truly understand the impact of this work, you have to look at how it changed the way we talk about the "average" man. Before Thurber, heroes were heroes and bums were bums. Thurber showed that a man could be both at the exact same time. He showed that the most boring person in the room might be the most interesting person in their own head.
Actionable Insights for Readers and Writers
If you’re a fan of the story or a writer trying to capture that same "spark," here’s what you can do:
- Notice the Triggers: Start paying attention to what makes your mind wander. Is it a sound? A specific smell? Use those sensory details in your own storytelling to ground the "fake" world in the "real" one.
- Read More Thurber: Don’t stop at Mitty. Check out The 13 Clocks or his autobiography, My Life and Hard Times. His grasp of the "muddled" human mind is unmatched.
- Audit Your Own Daydreams: Are you a "Mitty"? Do you use your imagination to escape problems or to find creative solutions? There’s a big difference between hiding from the world and preparing for it.
- Practice Observation: Thurber was a master observer. He noticed the way a woman says "puppy biscuits" and the way a parking lot attendant looks at a novice driver. The more you notice the real world, the better your internal world becomes.
Walter Mitty isn't just a character in a book. He’s a mirror. When we laugh at him, we’re mostly laughing at ourselves because we know exactly what it’s like to be "pocketa-pocketa-ing" through a Tuesday afternoon.
Go back and read the original text. It’ll take you ten minutes. It might change how you look at your next commute. Just remember to watch the road while you’re busy being a hero.