Thursday, July 5, 2012

Why E.B. White would have Blogged

 I have an item to write on my blank Christmas Wish list.  I know it's a little early to start thinking about that list, but usually I'm so full of anxiety about the holiday that when December arrives and someone asks me what I'd like to receive, my mind goes completely numb.  This year, I'm being proactive.  This year, I intend to remember that there is one thing that I would enjoy opening and consuming during the holidays.  I'm imagining a vision of me sitting next to the fire while heaps of snow are falling outside (a girl can dream, can't she?)  In my hand is a copy of Essays of E.B. White or Letters of E.B. White.

 I was a kid who walked around in the scenery of White's books.  Now that I am grown, I find an oasis in his stories.  While I am grounded in the present with it's heady forward motion, White's stories remind me to  step back into the memories of when I sat on the bank of a creek watching and listening with rapt attention as red wing blackbirds sang their clear, sharp calls among the cattails.  I was a child close to the earth, as James Taylor would say.  I smelled the soil and the grass and felt the moisture of summer mornings.  I was allowed plenty of solitary time to observe the natural world and to enjoy it.  While I also did my share of chores, much of my early life was spent outdoors, embracing the change and beauty of every season.

In addition to being a storyteller of the highest order, if White had lived today, I think he may have blogged--despite the fact that he was a very private person and did not want public attention.  There are many of us who use this medium but who also shy away from crowds and big scenes.  Of course my argument here is open for debate, but my claim is based on the issues he attends to in the introduction of Essays.  If you mentally replace the word "essayist" with "blogger" in the following paragraphs, you'll understand what I mean.

He writes:

"The essayist is a self-liberated man, sustained by the childish belief that everything he thinks about, everything that happens to him, is of general interest.  He is a fellow who thoroughly enjoys his work, just as people who take bird walks enjoy theirs.  Each new excursion of the essayist, each new "attempt," differs from the last and takes him into new country.  This delights him.  Only a person who is congenitally self-centered has the effrontery and the stamina to write essays."

He continues:

"There are as many kinds of essays as their are human attributes or poses, as many essay flavors as their are Howard Johnson ice creams.  The essayist arises in the morning and if he has work to do, selects his garb from an unusually extensive wardrobe: he can pull on any sort of shirt, be any sort of person according to his mood or subject matter---philosopher, scold, jester, raconteur, confidant, pundit, devil's advocate, enthusiast.  I like the essay, have always liked it..."

But then,

"The essayist, unlike the novelist, the poet, and the playwright must be content in his self-imposed role of second-class citizen.  A writer who has his sights trained on the Nobel Prize, or other earthly triumphs had best write a novel, a poem or a play and leave the essayist to ramble about, content with living a free life and enjoying the satisfactions of a somewhat undisciplined existence."

While the following statement seems to disprove my argument, even bloggers who write under pseudonyms usually follow the unwritten code that blogging is about at the very least, emotional truth, even when we don't feel at liberty to reveal all.

"There is one thing the essayist cannot do though---he cannot indulge himself in deceit or concealment, for he will be found out in no time."

He states that "natural candor" is the basic ingredient to any essay.  I believe that natural candor exists in the blogs that I love, whether or not the writer has fully revealed their legal identity or whether it is even possible to reveal the whole truth about a person in writing.

White continues by addressing the issue of the ego's role in writing essays. By acknowledging it's existence, he takes a light-hearted poke at himself thereby deflating the pompous balloon of self importance.

"I think some people find the essay the last resort of the egoist, a much too self-conscience and self-serving form for their taste; they feel that it is presumptuous of a writer to assume that his little excursions or his small observations will interest the reader.  There is some justice in their complaint.  I have always been aware that I am by nature self-absorbed and egotistical; to write of myself to the extent I have done indicates a too great attention to my own life, not enough to the lives of others."

And while this may have been a difficult inner conflict to resolve,  I am so very thankful to E.B. White that he paid "too great attention to (his) own life."









8 comments:

  1. A great delight of mine a while back was discovering the depth of E.B. White behind his still profoundly beloved classics of children's literature. How I would have loved to have known him, to just sit and have gotten to listen to him!

    And you, Jenny, are an essayist of the highest order, along his same lines. In fact, as I was reading his quotes and your commentary, I was struck by how similar you are to him. Emotional truth and natural candor are just two of the many things that make your blog so enjoyable.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dear Shelly,
    After I hit the "publish button" I was thinking of what a nerdy thing to post, and that not many people would understand why I was writing this. So first, I'm delighted that you share an appreciation for this beloved author. And secondly, HOLY COW, what a great compliment! Thank you very much! It wouldn't have thought that my writing is any way comparable to his although I do love the way he thinks. Another blogging friend of mine just wrote a post about how confidence is like bathing, that you can't do it just once and be done with it. I was at one of those low-confidence moments today, then you showed up with sunshine and sent me soaring again.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm here to shine more love-light upon you, dear Jenny. In my world, nerdy... for lack of a better word... is good. I appreciate deep thinkers like you and this post gives us a lot to ponder.

    Like you I was a child of nature. I spent a great deal of my time outdoors during all four seasons. I climbed trees and sat for hours on high branches enjoying peace and solitude. I developed a kinship with plants and animals. Animals feel safe around me and with good reason because I have always been gentle and respectful of them.

    When I became a blogger I chose to mask my identify. It wasn't merely a gimmick. It was a device that allowed me to express myself freely and powerfully. You are an outstanding writer, Jenny. You come from emotional truth and natural candor and its very refreshing. I feel fortunate to have attracted someone of your stature into my orbit.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Shady, thank you so much for the glowing comment! I have a feeling that your childhood in Pennsylvania was similar to mine in Michigan. We didn't have a farm, but there were lots of pets, lots of good climbing trees, a creek, a vegetable garden and a hill for sledding. It was all I needed, besides of course my loving parents and brothers.

      Delete
  4. Hi Jenny. Isn't it wonderful how our fellow bloggers can come up with a comment and give us our confidence back again, just when it might be at an all time low! I'm ashamed to say that I haven't heard of E.B. White, and I always read avidly as a child. Perhaps he didn't make it over to England! I will have to investigate him further, especially if he makes one go back to those simpler times of our own childhood. I recorded an old black & white film the other day of Anne of Green Gables, and I enjoyed it so much! The following day they showed Anne of Windy Poplars, so I recorded that one as well, which I have yet to watch. Everything seemed to be so simple back then!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Diane, it's so wonderful to have you visit again today. I think you would really love E.B. White's stories, especially Charlotte's Web. There was also a beautiful animated movie version that came afterwards, which I know you would enjoy sharing with Ruby Violet and Eli. I also love Anne of Green Gables, and L.M. Montgomery's other series, Emily of New Moon. My daughter is named after Emily from those books, which were my favorite as a young girl.

      Delete
  5. Huh. I was in the middle of a comment and I hit a button and it all disappeared mid-sentence. So if it appears, don't publish it. I wasn't done.
    As a blogger I am always quite sure you'll all be fascinated by everything I write about. (Please don't burst my bubble...) But since we're all in this together, I think we ARE inherently interested in each other's lives, opinions, etc. Even though many of my readers' lives are totally different from mine, they fascinate me with details from their own experiences, and with their opinions and ideas. And yes, as a child (and now) I read All.The.Time.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hi Karen, You've hit on one of the points I found most interesting in White's commentary, specifically the conflict of assuming that others will be interested what we write. What we have as bloggers, and what White didn't have as an essayist, is the collaboration of responses, the conversations that happen in the commentary section. So while we are paying a "too great attention to our own life" we are also allowed this wonderful gift to pay attention to the lives of others. Like you, I find the lives of my blogging friends to be fascinating and I learn more from them than they realize. Blogging has taught me that politics and media distort the picture of the world.

    ReplyDelete

Search This Blog

Banner and button design by me!