
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
It was an American classic, a short story written in 1930's. I love how the prose became poetic, and how the author switched Mitty from an ordinary husband doing a weekly chore to become a surgeon. And a hero - inscrutable to the last.
There is something about onomatopoeia that made the short story appealing. It adds up to the reader imagining how Mitty quickly triggers a daydream. At one moment he is an assassin. And then he became a surgeon.
The thing with this short story is it leaves you a sort of a plot hang-over. He just waited. Stood there. And just like death via firing squad, he stayed motionless. Yet proud.
I guess this is what the author wanted to impart to the reader. Once the pen stopped he became still. And he was proud of his creation.
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