E.B. White’s Stuart Little
puzzled me when I was a child, and it continues to do so as an adult.
I’m not sure why I read
it as a kid, perhaps it was simply because it was on the shelf, available, and I was a
voracious reader. I do, however, distinctly
remember not knowing what to make of it.
The cover with its image of a mouse paddling a canoe seemed promising,
but it turned out to be misleading. It
wasn’t a light-hearted adventure, a fun fantasy. It was something else entirely. That canoe ends up being destroyed, and Stuart
has a screaming tantrum next to it while his date, Harriet, unsuccessfully
tries to calm him down by suggesting alternative activities like going
dancing. Eventually she walks off
and leaves him, never to return to the story.
Besides Stuart’s
“mouse-like” appearance, there are odd aspects like a button that makes a model
car invisible. Stuart pushes this
accidently, so he and the dentist who built the car can’t find it as it’s
running, and it ends up smashing itself apart.
Perhaps this is a warning. Some
fantastical things can’t be controlled and thus must be used sparingly. The episode, however, is typical of the
book’s bittersweet tone. Something that
initially seems wonderful ends up being ruined, inadequate, or lost. The canoe is called “summer memories,” a
phrase of nostalgia, and it’s a trinket bought at a general store. It’s the idea or representation of a canoe
rather than a functional one, and Stuart must seal its leaks with gum.
Part of the book’s appeal is how Stuart solves problems by MacGyvering solutions and engaging in what we now call Life Hacks. It plays with scale, something that always fascinates and amuses whether it is Alice in Wonderland or Gulliver’s Travels. Then there are the wish fulfillment adventures for a child, the negotiating of adult activities -- sailing, driving, teaching, dating, traveling. And there is White’s wonderful wry sentences: the dentist saying, “Oftentimes people with decayed teeth have sound ideas”; and Stuart “not only looking like a mouse but acting like one too –wearing a gray hat and carrying a small cane.”
Part of the book’s appeal is how Stuart solves problems by MacGyvering solutions and engaging in what we now call Life Hacks. It plays with scale, something that always fascinates and amuses whether it is Alice in Wonderland or Gulliver’s Travels. Then there are the wish fulfillment adventures for a child, the negotiating of adult activities -- sailing, driving, teaching, dating, traveling. And there is White’s wonderful wry sentences: the dentist saying, “Oftentimes people with decayed teeth have sound ideas”; and Stuart “not only looking like a mouse but acting like one too –wearing a gray hat and carrying a small cane.”
However, the book never
goes in an expected direction. Stuart
doesn’t form any kind of relationship with Harriet, a girl his size who is
patient, easy-going, and seemingly nice.
He doesn't find Margalo, the bird he loves who has flown away. He leaves home without much of a goodbye, or much
regret. Unlike with the movie adaptation
(which I’ll discuss next week) there is no closure or resolution of any
relationship. At the end, Stuart is hitting the road. As my brother put it in a recent email, “instead of beginning in medias res, it ends in medias res. I remember as a
kid, being stunned. What? I just read the whole book and for
what? It had no ending. What? Where's the rest of the
story? … Why didn't the author finish it? Why didn't the mouse find
the girl? The bird? It made me sad that
the book had no ending… Every kid knows a book should have an ending... ”
I didn’t feel as strongly as my brother, but I was similarly
disconcerted.
Returning to the book as an adult, it’s open-endedness still surprises,
but I understand it more. In part, it’s
because Stuart Little is a book, but
it’s not a story. There is no plot or
linear narrative. It is a situation, a
set-up which generates a series of episodes. (In this way, it's similar to James Thurber's My Life and Hard Times.) These easily could have been expanded into a series like Flat Stanley or any of a number of kid’s
books. White, however, did not do this, and it strikes me as a
brave choice on his part.
One of the main problems of writing for children is writing for children. Or rather, writing down to them, not
challenging them and not respecting their intelligence and abilities. White understood these pitfalls, saying, ““My fears
about writing for children are great—one can so easily slip into a cheap sort
of whimsy or cuteness.” There is nothing
whimsical or cute in the line “Where’s Papa going with that ax?” and Stuart
demands to be respected rather than cuddled.
White never doubted children’s abilities to accept odd imaginative worlds and
imaginative acts. The open ending is not a hook to sell the next book; it's part of the overall point.
White said Stuart Little was about "the continuing journey that everybody
takes-—in search of what is perfect and unattainable. This is perhaps too
elusive an idea to put in a book for children, but I put it in anyway." Stuart searches for Margalo, the bird he
misses, the one he is entranced by from the moment she speaks to him in
rhyme. She literally saves Stuart’s
life, rescuing him from a garbage scow that's heading out into the ocean. The beautiful and poetic can save us from
this world of trash, the oblivion of the abyss. It can give us a transcendent
flying experience, and it can become a type of grail.
That's not a little idea at all.
I also read Stuart Little, but other than what you described, my memories of this book are vague compared to E.B. White's other classic, Charlotte's Web. This was an interesting post.
ReplyDelete