E. B. White (1899–1985)

Perhaps best known for his children's classic, CHARLOTTE'S WEB, White was also a long time contributor to The New Yorker. This varied 1981 collection of short pieces from his long career was probably one of his last books. White died in 1985. It's a bit uneven of course, but there is plenty to enjoy here, and I've found much to reflect on and chuckle over as I sampled from it over the past several weeks. (Its short pieces make it a perfect book for the bathroom or maybe to tuck in the door show more pocket of your car.)

White tries to disavow himself as a poet, preferring 'non-poet' -

"The life of a non-poet is an agreeable one: he feels no obligation to mingle with other writers of verse to exchange sensitivities, no compulsion to visit the Y to read from his own works, no need to travel the wine-and-cheese circuit, where the word 'poet' carries the aroma of magic and ladies creep up from behind carrying ballpoint pens and sprigs of asphodel."

I must confess this cracked me up. But despite his protestations about his skill at poetry, here are a couple samples of his poems that brought me up short.

"This is what youth must figure out:
Girls, love and living.
The having, the not having,
The spending and giving,
And the melancholy time of not knowing.

This is what age must learn about:
The ABC of dying.
The going, yet not going,
The loving and leaving,
And the unbearable knowing and knowing."
("Youth and Age")

Or this one, from "Incident on a Campus," wherein he revisits his college town and watches the students walking by (something I like to do too) -

"Eagerly,
Strong and resolute and sad,
Firm and gay and brave and fair,
And it was more than I could bear
That none of them was I,
That not a one was I."

That probably could have also been called 'Youth and Age.' It sure gut-punched this old man.

But enough. This is a book packed chock full of vintage E.B. White, one of the last great practitioners of writing in this odd English language. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER show less

Though intended for children, this book (as they say), is just about perfect. It's not just the tale, it's the writing style.

I probably have not read this in over 35 years, and I'm a bit ashamed to say that I never read it to my two older sons, though I just recently finished reading it with my five-year-old daughter.

I've known some who have grown up on farms, and they're a lot less squeamish about the killing of animals and life is a bit more matter-of-fact than for maybe some of us who show more grew up in the suburbs. But, what I missed when I was much younger, whether it is Charlotte growing old or Fern growing up, is the passage of time is inevitable.

“After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.”

Whether seven or forty seven, I couldn't help but being sensitive. I still cannot read this book without getting tears in my eyes. show less

Oh my! I love this story. I love the disorientation, the discomfort of it for the reader. Wait, that doesn't sound right.

What I mean is that this story hits a nerve. The whole piece sounds crazy, like a mere crazy person's rambling. But the more you read, the more you come to grasp the narrator's way of speech, his metaphors, his fragments, and you sense the psychological pain he is in and what it is founded upon. He is in anguish that glittering modern metropolitan life has been one big show more bait and switch for him (for everyone). He has lost the "rat race."

This story--a surprise from E.B. White--prompted yet another lively discussion in The Short Story Club group. You can join the group here: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/1187035 show less

Although as a child I preferred both Stuart Little and the Trumpet of the Swan (in particular, scenes from The Trumpet of the Swan really stick with me), as an adult I really prefer Charlotte's Web. I really do think this is one of the perfect children's books. There's not a lot to date it in terms of attitudes and characterizations. The writing is of course beautiful. It moves so beautifully from the perspective of Fern to Wilbur, and incorporates so smoothly both the cruelties and show more tragedies of ordinary life, while balancing them with humor, love, and activism. [return][return]One of my favorite lines is from chapter 1, spoken by Mr. Arable, in response to his son who asked if he could have a pig too: "No, I only distribute pigs to early risers. Fern was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a pig. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a pig. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly." show less