Thurber's Thirteen Clocks

I RECENTLY REREAD James Thurber’s delightful children’s book, The Thirteen Clocks, published in 1950. The cold aggressive Duke of Coffin Castle sets impossible tasks for the suitors for the hand of his niece Saralinda, and when they fail, he whips out the sword from his cane, slits them from their guggle to their zatch, and feeds them to his geese. “Everyone has flaws,” says the Duke. “Mine is being wicked.”

Saralinda’s is the only warm hand in the castle, where there are thirteen clocks frozen at ten ‘til five since the Duke “slew time” one snowy evening. Yet everyone is aware of time here. Knowing it would take our hero, Zorn of Zorna, ninety-nine days to get to his father’s castle, get the thousand jewels the Duke demands, and get back, the Duke gives him ninety-nine hours to do it (and to start the thirteen clocks).

Saralinda is not really the Duke’s niece, but a princess he stole, and he is under a spell to keep her safe from himself and give suitors a chance at her, but when she turns twenty-one, he’ll be free to marry her, and that day is the next one after Zorn’s time expires.

Zorn is assisted by the Golux, a hapless and forgetful wizard, who suggests the jewels can come from Hagga, who weeps jewels. Of course Zorn is successful, and the Duke is left to deal with the monster, the Todal, that he has kept in his prison to prey on others.

Thurber’s book is full of wordplay, of word invention, rhyme and other sound patterns. It begs to be read aloud. And some people just don't get it. "What slish is this?" they ask in slightly different words, but echoing the Duke's reaction when his jewels turn to tears.