Name: Tess
Home: St. Louis
Some Pig
Ben and I have just finished reading Charlotte's Web. I get terribly sentimental when I'm pregnant, and I was embarrassed to have to stop three times during Charlotte's death scene because I was crying too hard to read. (Ben started laughing at me, which helped me snap out of it.)
To make me feel better, a friend shared this piece from NPR about Charlotte's Web (almost 13 minutes long, but well worth listening to). I learned that when E.B. White recorded the audio version, he had to do seventeen takes of that scene before he could read it without crying.
A few days ago, Ben sat on my lap and played while I read She's Not There: A Life in Two Genders, by Jennifer Finney Boylan, in which the author describes her transition from male to female. "Hey," Ben said, pointing. "Why's it say 'Some Pig' there?"
I started to reply, "I'm sure it doesn't say--" when I realized that it was, in fact, the title of the next chapter. I skimmed through and read aloud the part where Boylan introduces her friend, the novelist Richard Russo, by quoting Charlotte's Web. Several times in the book, Boylan uses the friendship of Charlotte and Wilbur as a parallel to her friendship with Russo. Although Ben was nonplussed by that section, it reassured me to read about other adults--respected writers--being moved by a children's book.
Reading Charlotte's Web as an adult, I saw different elements in it than I did as a child. I was struck by the transformative power of love and language (or, if you want to be cynical about it, advertising): Wilbur is just a runty little piglet until Charlotte's words declare him worthy of attention. She is a writer whose focus renders the ordinary extraordinary.
This time around, I was disappointed in Fern. I had remembered her as a central character, but her main role lies in getting Wilbur to the Zuckermans' farm in the first place. By the end of the book, she is more interested in the pedestrian world of the Ferris Wheel and Henry Fussy than in the miracle that has taken place in the barn. White does such a magnificent job depicting the pleasures of the barn that I was indignant when Fern turns her back on them. As an adult, I found the book downright elegiac, and I noticed uneasily how the shadows of death and growing up give the story depth.
To make me feel better, a friend shared this piece from NPR about Charlotte's Web (almost 13 minutes long, but well worth listening to). I learned that when E.B. White recorded the audio version, he had to do seventeen takes of that scene before he could read it without crying.
A few days ago, Ben sat on my lap and played while I read She's Not There: A Life in Two Genders, by Jennifer Finney Boylan, in which the author describes her transition from male to female. "Hey," Ben said, pointing. "Why's it say 'Some Pig' there?"
I started to reply, "I'm sure it doesn't say--" when I realized that it was, in fact, the title of the next chapter. I skimmed through and read aloud the part where Boylan introduces her friend, the novelist Richard Russo, by quoting Charlotte's Web. Several times in the book, Boylan uses the friendship of Charlotte and Wilbur as a parallel to her friendship with Russo. Although Ben was nonplussed by that section, it reassured me to read about other adults--respected writers--being moved by a children's book.
Reading Charlotte's Web as an adult, I saw different elements in it than I did as a child. I was struck by the transformative power of love and language (or, if you want to be cynical about it, advertising): Wilbur is just a runty little piglet until Charlotte's words declare him worthy of attention. She is a writer whose focus renders the ordinary extraordinary.
This time around, I was disappointed in Fern. I had remembered her as a central character, but her main role lies in getting Wilbur to the Zuckermans' farm in the first place. By the end of the book, she is more interested in the pedestrian world of the Ferris Wheel and Henry Fussy than in the miracle that has taken place in the barn. White does such a magnificent job depicting the pleasures of the barn that I was indignant when Fern turns her back on them. As an adult, I found the book downright elegiac, and I noticed uneasily how the shadows of death and growing up give the story depth.
posted by Tess | 8:12 AM
1 Comments:
Well, you know me, I never liked Charlotte's Web. I may, however, need to pic up the Life in Two Genders book. :)
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