White’s delightful

We read The Trumpet of the Swan a few months ago. My kid liked best of all the scene when the father swan dives through the plate glass window at the music store. She laughed and laughed about it, when we read it, after we read it, while recounting it several times to several people.

We finished Charlotte’s Web a few days ago. My kid got quiet when Charlotte died, snuggled in closer to the my shoulder, insisted she wasn’t sad. When we finished the final chapter she said “That book gets sad but then it doesn’t end sad. That’s good.”

I realized late that the E.B. White who wrote Charlotte’s Web was the White in Strunk & White, a delay encouraged no doubt by my having never read either book. I enjoyed Charlotte’s Web so much that I got a copy of White’s collected essay from the library and read the online-available introduction to a book about White as essayist. I found White’s intro to his essay collection and to The Elements of Style charming. Then I picked up a collection of his writing from the New Yorker, reading the first eight pages on my walk to work.

White writes this kind of paragraph that I love. “The early summer days on a far are the happiest and fairest days of the year. Lilacs bloom and make the air sweet, and then fade. Apple blossoms come with the lilacs, and the bees visit around among the apple trees. The days grow warm and soft. School ends, and children have time to play and to fish for trouts in the brook. Avery often brought a trout home in his pocket, warm and stiff and ready to be fired for supper.” That’s the beginning of a chapter in Charlotte’s Web, I forgot to write down the page number.

“The first headline we encountered was ‘Danger in the Garden.’ There is enough poison in a single castor bean to kill a person. The seeds of pinks cause vomiting. Sweet-pea seeds contain a poison that can keep a person bed-ridden for months. The night-blooming jimson has enough power in its leaves to produce delirium. Daffodil bulbs when eaten cause stomach cramps. And in the lily the valley is a subtle substance that makes the heart slow down. But the conclusion drawn by the writer of the article, chewing absently on a daffodil bulb, was a good one. We must plan this garden anyway.” That’s a bit of “Plant the Garden Anyway” in Writings From The New Yorker, 1925-1976, page eight.

I like these paragraphs. They show a great deal going on - this, and this, and also this, and THIS TOO! - and then use all that activity as the background for something else, as the camera moves.

That second quote is almost all of “Plant the Garden Anyway.” Among what I enjoy in this New Yorker collection is the brevity. I assume that the short pieces were a product of the New Yorker being on paper and needing to fill up space between longer stories. White’s short form pieces are a great example of how much can be done in such a little space. I like Brevity Magazine quite a bit but compared to some of White’s paragraphs Brevity’s 750 word pieces seem downright long form - though of course I’m glad that outlets like Brevity exist to foster short form writing in an online format.