I
n James Thurber’s 1942 short story "The Catbird Seat," the boisterous Ulgine Barrows shatters the peaceful diligence of Erwin Martin, head of the filing department at his firm. Barrows, as special adviser to the president of the firm, brays at Martin, using slang he barely understands. Apparently a Dodgers fan, she mimics Red Barber’s ball-field patter, shouting, "Are you tearing up the pea patch? Are you scraping around the bottom of the pickle barrel? Are you sitting in the catbird seat?" Martin eventually hatches a plan to turn Barrows’s ebullience against her, using words alone.
Image: Geoffrey Moss for The Chronicle Review
