Wolf Story – William McCleery

On August 8, 2020July 19, 2020 By nymithIn American writers, Bizarre Children's Books, Humour, Poison Pills, Set in New YorkLeave a comment

A mildly meta curio spoiled by an ill-thought moral at the end. Not recommended.

Title: Wolf Story
Author: William McCleery (1911-2000)
Illustrator: Warren Chappell (1904-1991)
Original Publication Date: 1947
Edition: NYRB Children’s Collection (2012), 82 pages
Genre: Humor.
Ages: 4-6
First Sentence: Once upon a time a man was putting his five-year-old son Michael to bed and the boy asked for a story.

A father tucks his son into bed and the son naturally wants a story. After rejecting Goldilocks, Michael requests a new story and is soon “helping” his father make it more exciting by adding a fierce wolf called Waldo to the mix. On subsequent outings with Michael and his best friend Stefan the wolf story continues, despite the father’s boredom, until they reach a mutually satisfying conclusion.

Okay, so this book is nowhere near as meta as it probably sounds. The first two chapters do work quite well in that regard, as the story is constructed while the father and son’s relationship is being sketched out – mostly through the use of dialogue. It’s cozy and endearing, while also forming a humorous commentary on storytelling conventions:

And the man continued: “Once upon a time there was a hen. She was called Rainbow because her feathers were of many different colors: red and pink and purple and lavender and magenta–” The boy yawned. “–and violet and yellow and orange…”
“That will be enough colors,” said the boy.
“And green and dark green and light green…”
“Daddy! Stop!” cried the boy. “Stop saying so many colors. You’re putting me to sleep!”
“Why not?” said the man. “This is bed-time.”
“But I want some story first!” said the boy. “Not just colors.”
“All right, all right,” said the man. “Well, Rainbow lived with many other hens in a house on a farm at the edge of a deep dark forest and in the deep dark forest lived a guess what.”
“A wolf,” said the boy, sitting up in bed.
“No, sir!” cried the man.
“Make it that a wolf lived in the deep dark forest,” said the boy.
“Please,” said the man. “Anything but a wolf. A weasel, a ferret, a lion, an elephant…”
“A wolf,” said the boy.

wolfs hen and boy — Jimmy Tractorwheel the farmer’s son, and Rainbow the hen.

The rapport between father and son creates a pleasantly homey vibe, so nostalgic that it seems pulled directly from McCleery’s own experiences telling bedtime stories to his son. However, the novel proceeds to take on a slightly different tone, as subsequent chapters take place on various Sunday outings, accompanied by Michael’s best friend Stefan – from then on it’s two against one as the boys hijack and control the story, reducing the early delightful tug of war. The wolf story is then continuously interrupted by forays into the wider world of 1940s New York:

“Do you mind if we have lunch in the park?” said the boy’s father to the boy’s mother. “Would you mind not having to fix lunch for us?”
“Oh, that would be terrible,” said the boy’s mother. “If I don’t have to fix lunch for you I will be forced to go back to bed and read the Sunday paper!”
Soon the man and the two boys were driving along the West Side Highway toward Fort Tryon Park. The boys could see freighters, tankers, ferry boats and other craft in the Hudson River. “Enemy battleships!” the boys cried, and raked them with fire from their wooden rifles. Sometimes the man had to speak sternly to the boys, saying, “Boys! Sit down! Stop waving those rifles around. Do you want to knock my front teeth out?”
The boys were very well behaved, and every time the man spoke sternly to them they would stop waving the rifles around, for a few seconds anyway.

As you can tell, McCleery has a fairly repetitive style and prefers to avoid using names or descriptions for his characters. The story is completely trivial and its lack of suspense probably works in favor of a young audience – the wolf story is constantly being treated as a game by the boys, cutting any build-up of suspense with interruptions. It’s packed with dialogue, onomatopoeia and exclamation points, and supposedly makes an enjoyable read-aloud (although I have some caveats in the Parental Guide). McCleery wrote plays for television and Broadway, which explains a lot about his style.

I would say that Wolf Story‘s greatest asset is its illustrator, Warren Chappell. Leaving the family wholly anonymous, he only illustrates the tale within the tale. Chappell takes McCleery’s dim-witted wolf and makes him hulking and villainous, yet absurd, while Rainbow the hen looks like she wandered in from Greenwich Village, sporting a debonair hat. Most charming of all are his medieval letters at the start of every chapter, with the wolf lurking behind them (it’s a pity the 10 chapters only opened with 5 individual letters).

Wolf Story is a very short book. It’s nicely packaged by NYRB and it seems to be well-received by modern parents – however, it doesn’t strike me as a lost children’s classic and I’m a little surprised it was chosen out of the sea of out-of-print stories waiting for a new lease on life. The plot is slight and gains little development, characters are thinly sketched, the glimpses of 1940s New York are all too brief and the writing is on the flat side. Also, the ending is a huge problem – the wolf story is based around a folktale motif, but if you enjoy the hard-headed sensibilities of classic folktales (where evil, selfishness and stupidity are punished in the end), you will probably find Wolf Story as much a letdown as I did. It looks good at the start but it wouldn’t make my list of vintage gems.

See Also: Stuart Little, another evocation of New York in the 40s, directed to the same basic age group (though the writing has way more style) and with eccentricities all its own…

And now a long Parental Guide for a short novel. Big spoilers for how the book ends.

Language: Quick heads up that there is one appearance of the word “damn,” which the father tries to dissuade his son from using, offering “darn” as a substitute – this book gets called a perfect read-aloud a lot, but I know there are parents who would prefer curse-free books for their six year olds.

wolf attacked — Big five year old or small wolf?

Violence: It’s about as serious as a Road Runner cartoon. Five year old Jimmy Tractorwheel, the farmer’s son, wallops Waldo the Wolf with a baseball bat and all that’s missing from the scene are the circling birdies. Lots of threats of eating the hen or shooting the wolf but no one actually dies, leading to…

Values: …the father inserting an asinine moral when the farmer’s family finally capture Waldo. Jimmy Tractorwheel decides to try and reform Waldo after the wolf whines about how: “I never had no opportunities. I ain’t even been to school.” He’s still a wolf, but that’s forgotten about and social experimentation follows, which the father insists is absolutely successful: “So Waldo was locked up and every day Jimmy would come and ask him questions about how a wolf is treated by his parents and what makes him so fierce. The more Waldo talked about his fierceness the gentler he grew, until finally he was allowed out of the cage on a leash. Jimmy and Waldo wrote a book about wolves which was read by the farmers and the wolves in that part of the country and helped them to understand each other. They all became quite friendly and some wolves even worked on the farms, as sheepdogs.”

Michael actually tries to have Waldo revert to type and repay the farmer by stealing Rainbow again, but the father won’t have it and ends the story, which put me in mind of the quote by G.K. Chesterton: “For children are innocent and love justice, while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy.”

Role Models: The father clearly intends Jimmy to be such. Since both the father and Jimmy literally advocate letting a ~~fox~~ wolf guard the hen house, they obviously aren’t very smart. The wolf himself has no redeeming qualities – he is murderous, doltish and cowardly – yet he gets off scot-free.

Educational Properties: Since this is a static novel about the joys of telling a dynamic story out of thin air, it could be used as an example of meta fiction for the young. You might also discuss the ending and explain that A: wolves are not tameable and B: pop psychology is not a panacea (and that’s just for starters). There are already too many people out there who think they live in a Disney movie. This is not helpful.

End of Guide.

This was William McCleery’s only work for young people, which means I have now completed his bibliography and I’m honestly relieved. Imagine what he’d have done with The Little Red Hen…

Up Next: Back to the story of Anne Shirley.

Adventure: Tom Sawyer Abroad

On October 7, 2019March 16, 2020 By nymithIn Adventure, Aeronautical Novels, American writers, Bizarre Children's Books, Humour, Science Fiction, Set in North Africa, Steampunk, Superfluous Sequels1 Comment

Although written by Mark Twain, this particular Tom Sawyer adventure feels more like an unauthorized fanfiction, complete with random sci-fi insert and artificially tampering with established character traits… Oh wait…

book tom sawyer Title: Tom Sawyer Abroad
Author: Mark Twain (1835-1910)
Original Publication Date: 1894
Edition: The Complete Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Borders Classics (2006), 193 to 277 (85) of 337 pages
Genre: Adventure. Humour. Science Fiction.
Ages: 10-12
First Sentence: Do you reckon Tom Sawyer was satisfied after all them adventures?

Mark Twain had many talents but character continuity was not among them. The scene opens upon a grandstanding Tom Sawyer, a last gift from the hard swerve his character took during Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, thirsting for new adventures as the townsfolk slowly lose interest in his previous folly. Hearing of a mad inventor about to set sail in a balloon of his own invention, Tom decides to go see the launch, with Huck and Jim accompanying him. Why is Jim still hanging with them? Does he have a job? What about his family, still enslaved? Is he working to free them? Not a word about any of it, and the trio are off to St. Louis, where they see the strange balloon, which has wings and fans and all sorts of things, and wasn’t like any balloon you see in pictures, according to Huck. I just ended up picturing a miniature zeppelin – it was easier. The trio get abducted in a haphazard fashion and soon find themselves hundreds of miles across the ocean and on their way to London when their lunatic pilot plunges to his death and they are swept off course to the Sahara Desert…

It’s very difficult to recommend Tom Sawyer Abroad, as even the most enthusiastic Twain fans are dismissive of it. It is laced with problems, starting with the age group it’s written for. It’s clearly aimed at a younger audience than Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and most kids who’ve successfully navigated that American hellscape would probably find Abroad somewhat juvenile. On the other hand, younger readers who just love Tom and want more of his adventures would probably have to skip Huckleberry Finn, rendering the beginning of this volume (and Jim’s inclusion) even more nonsensical than it already is. The third book in most series has a ready-made audience – this one, not so much.

The writing is also subpar on this outing; although narrated by Huck, the use of vernacular is looser and simplified, showing the speed at which Twain churned this one out, having entered financial ruin by this point in his life. Whatever organic interest he might have felt in this Verneian escapade dried up fairly quickly, judging by the slapdash “and then we all went home” ending. Oh yes, and then there’s the matter of the plot…

It doesn’t have one.

https://thewesterncornerofthecastle.home.blog/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/9eedf-saharadesertmorocco.jpg — Camel train in the Sahara.

Tom Tom Sawyer Abroad is usually called a Jules Verne parody. Granted, I’ve only read one of Verne’s Extraordinary Voyages at this stage, but the statement doesn’t seem particularly accurate toward the meat of this short novel. It would be more telling to call it a predictor of Samuel Beckett, given that the bulk of the text is given over to dimwitted people embroiled in arguments while they and the audience wait for something to happen. There are a few vistas and scattered dramatic incidents but they mostly serve as triggers for the arguments Tom has with Huck and Jim, whether the topic be mirages, the speed a flea can travel at or the reason the Sahara has so much sand. In a curious about-face from the previous installment, Tom has regained his good traits and is once more capable of understanding the books he reads. He’s the one who figures out how to operate the balloon, he has memorized and retells portions of the Arabian Nights for their evening’s entertainments and he’s got the hopeless task of trying to argue the scientific facts of mirages and the earth’s rotation with the pair of nimrods he’s traveling with.

While Tom has regained his wits, it’s safe to say that Huck and Jim have utterly lost theirs to compensate. Huck’s characteristic street smarts are long gone by this point, while Jim’s main contribution to the crew is a tendency toward superstition and panic. I expect fans of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn would be just as insulted by this depiction as I was by Tom’s in the previous. Sure, I might personally appreciate Tom’s disgusted remark that as for people like me and Jim, he’d just as soon have intellectual intercourse with a catfish, but it doesn’t change the fact that Twain treats his core characters very cheaply. Aunt Polly is more consistent over these three novels than any of the leads.

https://i0.wp.com/twain.lib.virginia.edu/projects/applebaum/images/TS2.jpg — Way to go, Aunt Polly.

The thing is, with all of these caveats, I actually somewhat liked Tom Sawyer Abroad. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to Twain’s storytelling slip-ups but I found much of this little book vaguely entertaining rather than massively irritating. As dumb as the slapstick sequences are, the arguments Tom struggles to win have a certain obstreperous intent that I found endearing. After Jim maintains that the sun is (obviously) moving around the earth:

Tom turned on me, then, and says–
“What do you say–is the sun standing still?”
“Tom Sawyer, what’s the use to ask such a jackass question? Anybody that ain’t blind can see it don’t stand still.”
“Well,” he says, “I’m lost in the sky with no company but a parsel of low-down animals that don’t know no more than the head boss of a university did three or four hundred years ago. Why, blame it, Huck Finn, there was Popes, in them days, that knowed as much as you do.”
It warn’t fair play, and I let him know it. I says–
“Throwin’ mud ain’t arguin’, Tom Sawyer.”
“Who’s throwin’ mud?”
“You done it.”
“I never. It ain’t no disgrace, I reckon, to compare a backwoods Missouri muggings like you to a Pope, even the orneriest one that ever set on the throne. Why, it’s an honor to you, you tadpole, the Pope’s the one that’s hit hard, not you…”

Tom Sawyer, hero to every kid who’s ever felt superior for knowing about centrifugal force, the Fibonacci Sequence, Charles Martel, The Iliad or [insert your own nerd credential here]. The poor lad even has to deconstruct his insults for them. I suppose there is a chance that some juvenile readers would relate to Tom’s mindset here, provided they could look past the surrounding deficiencies of plot.

https://i0.wp.com/ens-newswire.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/20131205_lion.jpg — The African lion (Panthera leo) has never made its home in the Sahara, preferring savannahs and riverlands.

On that front, as silly as it is to read about “lions and tigers” in the Sahara (to say nothing of the repeated gag in which Huck is left stranded at the bottom of the balloon’s rope ladder sweeping along like a giant cat toy with the “lions and tigers” in pursuit while Tom looks for a safe place to deposit him), there is some throwaway imagery here deserving of a more well-crafted tome:

We were watching the shadder of the balloon slide along the ground, and now and then gazing off across the Desert to see if anything was stirring, and then down on the shadder again, when all of a sudden almost right under us we see a lot of men and camels laying scattered about, perfectly quiet, like they was asleep.
We shut off the power, and backed up and stood over them, and then we see that they was all dead. It give us the cold shivers. And it made us hush down, too, and talk low, like people at a funeral. We dropped down slow and stopped, and me and Tom clumb down and went amongst them. There was men, and women, and children. They was dried by the sun and dark and shriveled and leathery, like the pictures of mummies you see in books. And yet they looked just as human, you wouldn’t a believed it; just like they was asleep, some laying on their backs, with their arms spread on the sand, some on their sides, some on their faces, just as natural, though the teeth showed more than usual. Two or three was setting up. One was a woman, with her head bent over, and a child was laying across her lap. A man was setting with his hands locked around his knees, staring out of his dead eyes at a young girl that was stretched out before him. He looked so mournful, it was pitiful to see.

http://www.trbimg.com/img-4fd0f68d/turbine/la-ca-mark-twain-20120610 — Mark Twain.

It seems unlikely that Twain had a developed plot in mind for Tom Sawyer Abroad, as after a series of random encounters, extensive arguments and occasional soapboxing, he wraps the whole thing up and deposits the adventurers back home with Aunt Polly in the space of one page. However, the feeling I’m left with in this particular entry in the haphazard tales of Tom Sawyer (hardly a series as we would consider it today) is of disappointment for what this could have been, rather than frustration at what it was. After all, Tom Sawyer is in the public domain, and I could picture a really fantastic adventure being spun from this premise, packed with historical details and steampunk flourishes, with all three leads in character at once and all manner of exciting incidents and clever shout-outs to Twain, Verne and Beckett. Sadly, that book does not exist, nor does this unloved volume have the cult status likely to inspire it.

All theories for improvement aside, this is another superfluous sequel to The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, giving only a few hints at what sort of man Tom might grow up to be while breaking almost all continuity with that classic. If you’re a mad fan of Mark Twain, or enjoy collecting peculiar children’s books, this might be of interest.

See Also: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, the classic that started this whole crazy train of rafting and ballooning adventures, with marvelous writing and delightful comedic (and dramatic) sequences.

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the literary juggernaut meant for older readers, full of satiric darkness and incredibly stupid decisions made by all of the main characters.

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne, an enchanting adventure for Victorian enthusiasts of all ages. Contains no balloon in spite of what your memories might be telling you.

Parental Guide, always a tricky thing for Mark Twain’s books.

Violence: There are occasional beduin attacks, but there’s never any dread on the part of the characters and usually they just pull their balloon up and watch the skirmish from a safe height. The encounter with the mummified dead, and a later sandstorm which buries a peaceful group of beduin without trace, are exceptions – Tom and company are shaken and these eerie sequences are standouts as a result.

Twain in Nikola Tesla’s lab remains one of the coolest historical photos of all time.

The mad inventor plummets to his death in a storm, with his demise being lit by the flashes of midnight lightning in a prediction of classic horror movies to come – and given that he fell while trying to push Tom out instead, it’s understandable that he is not then missed.

Values: Twain doesn’t seem to like Jules Verne much. Or the Crusades. Or the newspapers. As usual, it’s hard to tell what he actually does like. Tom’s education/intelligence seems to be slowly driving a wedge between him and Huck, such that it’s hard to picture them still being friends as adults, but I can’t tell if that was deliberate commentary or not.

Role Models: Huck and Jim are a total wash in this area. Granted they weren’t the most proactive pair before, but it’s still noticeable how little dignity either one now possesses. Tom is now a miniature man of action, still utterly indifferent to any worry he might be putting Aunt Polly to, but he’s moved on from being a prankster to a know-it-all.

Educational Properties: Most Victorian children’s books, whatever other failings they might have, would help your child to read at a higher level. This is one of the weaker offerings in that regard.

The best role this book could take in a homeschool setting would probably be to parse out the arguments as a demonstration of sophistry, strawmanning, logical fallacy, devil’s advocacy and other fun aspects of rhetoric.

There’s not enough detail to match this novel with a study on the Sahara, but assigning kids to design the balloon might lead to some artistic engineering attempts.

End of Guide.

One more to go and I’m done with the strange saga of Tom Sawyer. Expect the final volume in November. If anyone has ever read this book, please leave a comment with your opinion. I liked it better than it probably deserved but, in all fairness to Twain, at least he tried new things every time rather than rubber-stamping each new adventure with the same old form. Doubtless I shall look back on these with fondness when I’m embroiled in the 18 sequels to The Boxcar Children.

Up Next: An extended hiatus for family reasons. I shall return in November, probably with the next Anne novel. We shall see.

Anthropomorphic Fantasy: The Trumpet of the Swan

On September 21, 2019March 16, 2020 By nymithIn 1000 Good Books List, American writers, Anthropomorphic Fantasy, Bizarre Children's Books, Humour, Set in Montana, U.S. StatesLeave a comment

Well, that was odd.

Title: The Trumpet of the Swan
Author: E.B. White (1899-1985)
Illustrator: Edward Frascino (????-)
Original Publication Date: 1970
Edition: Harper and Row (1973), 210 pages.
Genre: Anthropomorphic fantasy.
Ages: 5-8
First Sentence: Walking back to camp through the swamp, Sam wondered whether to tell his father what he had seen.

https://thewesterncornerofthecastle.home.blog/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/4db91-17b.trumpeter-swan_2199.jpg — The gorgeous trumpeter swan (Cygnus buccinator).

The scene opens on a pond in the vast Canadian wilderness. Two swans have settled there to build a nest and raise their young. Sam Beaver, a boy from Montana, quietly observes them before returning to his father’s camp. The cygnets hatch and a peaceful, thoughtful nature documentary on the life cycle of a trumpeter swan seems about to unfold – except that one of the new cygnets is mute. So Louis, as the unfortunate is called (and that should be given the French pronunciation like Armstrong, or a later joke will fall flat), goes looking for Sam Beaver in Montana, finds him surprisingly quickly, and requests his assistance. Sam takes him to school, where he learns to write, but since swans can’t read, a full-grown Louis must learn to play trumpet to win the beautiful swan of his dreams. His father, the old cob, has to steal a trumpet to secure his son’s future (swans having no purchasing power), and Louis must then go forth across America and seek employment as everything from camp bugler to nightclub musician, all in quest of enough money to pay damages to the music shop in Billings and restore his father’s honour.

E.B. White took a break of nearly two decades between Charlotte’s Web and this, his longest novel, in which he lets loose all restraint and delivers a tale so wholly absurd that it makes Stuart Little look positively staid in comparison – in fact, had there been a cameo from Stuart, all the way to Montana and still looking for his bird, it would have fit the general tone rather perfectly. Many people say this is White’s funniest book and I suppose it is, although I found the constant unremarked absurdity and crazyquilt plotting to be a trifle wearying after a while.

https://i0.wp.com/www.mrslittle.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/Trumpet_steal.jpeg — The old cob’s daring heist.

The Trumpet of the Swan is best described as a peculiar mix of ingredients. First there is the riotous comedy of a swan playing trumpet, overnighting at the Ritz and attacking zookeepers. This is tempered by an obsession with “realistic” detail, such as swans being unable to read because they don’t go to school (of course that would be the case) and Louis needing an operation on his webbed foot to be able to use the valves on his new trumpet. Then there is the nature program aspect, detailing nesting habits, natural predators and man-made hazards in the life of the trumpeter swan. Meanwhile, the serious subtext of the novel is that of disability overcome and the final effect is (somehow) of a sweeping fairy tale romance – this in spite of the fact that Louis’s true love, Serena, is barely a character at all. Your individual enjoyment of the book will depend a lot on how successfully you think these elements are handled and how willing you are to see them meshed together in the first place.

What I actually found most refreshing about this novel had to do with the change in illustrator: Edward Frascino won the commission to illustrate because he could allegedly work faster than Garth Williams, and White insisted upon a spring publication date for financial reasons. Williams’ illustrations would undoubtedly have been warm and endearing as always, but I actually found Frascino’s style a far better match to the novel: As White muses on the subjects of freedom, romance and nature conservation, Frascino supplies regal swans and landscapes that are sweeping and full of wonder. There’s a grace implicit to even the silliest images that shows the New Yorker cartoonist had hidden depths. Unlike with Williams, Frascino has never been enshrined as integral to White’s work, and the special 2000 edition of The Trumpet of the Swan replaced his illustrations with those of Fred Marcellino. I have not had a chance to compare them yet other than to note that Marcellino’s swans are far more anthropomorphized than Frascino’s.

https://thewesterncornerofthecastle.home.blog/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/ce877-trumpet-swan-marcellino.jpg — Marcellino’s sad Louis, rejected by an illiterate Serena…

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/81/98/e4/8198e462e65db17bf899d590f6e75059.jpg — …and Frascino’s triumphant Louis, serenading Serena.

As for the actual text, the biggest disappointment to be found this time around is actually in White’s writing style, which has become a good deal plainer than it was before – perhaps because he was hurrying himself as well as his illustrator. The sentences are shorter on average and less suited to reading aloud, as in this scene where Louis rescues a drowning boy at summer camp: Cheers came from the people on the shore and in the boats. Applegate clung to Louis’s neck. He had been saved in the nick of time. Another minute and he would have gone to the bottom. Water would have filled his lungs. He would have been a goner.

https://www.abandonedspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/564px-sheldon_church_2.jpg — The South Carolina town of Yemassee is famous for the Old Sheldon Church Ruins, dating from the 1700s. Lots of cool pictures and history in the link to the right.

While this loss of underlying melody is certainly sad, such stiff passages are broken up by measured lines of classic White, with delicate sensibility and a love for the North American landscape (including a shout out to Yemassee, SC, which led me to this cool page). They flew south across Maryland and Virginia. They flew south across the Carolinas. They spent a night in Yemassee and saw huge oak trees with moss hanging from their branches. They visited the great swamps of Georgia and saw the alligator and listened to the mockingbird. They flew across Florida and spent a few days in a bayou where doves moaned in the cedars and little lizards crawled in the sun. They turned west into Louisiana. Then they turned north toward their home in Upper Red Rock Lake.

Louis has wings, allowing him to be a far greater traveller than tiny Stuart in his automobile or sedentary Wilbur, and thus White has him traverse the country, from Canada to Montana to Boston and Philadelphia. This freedom is tremendously important to Louis – it’s truly the classic American saga of the young man going out into the world to make a name for himself, bring prestige to the family, earn a living and win his true love… the archetypal young man is just a swan in this case. With no overhead. So it lacks real drama, making it quite perfect for little kids. Worth noting that Louis is on his own a lot of the time, meaning that one of White’s greatest skills – that of the ensemble cast which made Charlotte’s Web and the first half of Stuart Little so engaging – is almost completely absent last time around.

https://i.pinimg.com/236x/de/7c/66/de7c66672d7559eed92cf1ab3ab4e95c.jpg — From the title page.

The most memorable character here is not even Louis; it’s his father, the old cob, who is prone to long speeches on his own gracefulness and his duty to uphold the swan image of elegance at all times. Yet he is willing to sacrifice that honour so that his mute son will have a future. He is at once both comic and noble, a figure of fun for being overly dignified, rather than a bumbling dad. In these moments The Trumpet of the Swan becomes a true companion for Charlotte’s Web – a story of a father’s love that is quite moving for a parent and comforting to a small child:

“I have robbed a store”, he said to himself. “I have become a thief. What a miserable fate for a bird of my excellent character and high ideals! Why did I do this? What led me to commit this awful crime? My past life has been blameless–a model of good behavior and correct conduct. I am by nature law-abiding. Why, oh, why did I do this?”
Then the answer came to him, as he flew steadily on through the evening sky. “I did it to help my son. I did it for love of my son Louis.”

In spite of my own preference for a less whimsical White, The Trumpet of the Swan is extremely easy to quote from and ends on a truly graceful note. While I never quite warmed to it, it does share the unique charms of Stuart Little and Charlotte’s Web and has its own moments of beauty alongside its wilder eccentricities.

See Also: The other two E.B. White books, Stuart Little and Charlotte’s Web.

Parental Guide up next, with spoilers.

Violence: Male swans have powerful wings and are accustomed to beating up those who cross them, with Louis attacking two zookeepers attempting to corner Serena, and cuffing a little duck who stole his trumpet. The old cob is shot trying to repay the music store he’d previously burgled, but any sense of danger is soon negated as the old cob continues his elegant monologue regardless of the pain, saying “I must die gracefully, as only a swan can” before fainting. He’s soon patched up and on his way again.

Values: In addition to a love for the American landscape and an encouragement for nature preservation, White also writes an ode to freedom, with Louis and Serena choosing to take their chances in the wild rather than remain in the zoo forever. However, in a twist that weirds a lot of people out, they barter for their freedom by promising the zoo an occasional cygnet of theirs in exchange. Louis keeps this promise, as Sam Beaver points out that there’s always a runt in any brood that could benefit from mankind’s protection.

Louis is a swan navigating human society and White does bring up the problem of prejudice, primarily to spoof it. While Louis works as camp bugler, he meets a boy called Applegate who insists he doesn’t like birds. The camp leader says he is “entitled to his likes and dislikes and to his prejudices” but must still treat Louis with the respect accorded a camp bugler. After Louis saves the boy from a watery grave, the camp leader then puts Applegate on the spot, coaxing him toward a “and what have we learned today?” life lesson. Applegate thought hard for a moment. “Well,” he said, “I’m grateful to Louis for saving my life. But I still don’t like birds.” The camp leader is nonplussed and has to leave it at that.

Role Models: Everyone in this book is quite nice and fairly high-minded. Louis works hard, pays his father’s debt and always tips the waiter. His original sense of self-pity is overcome alongside his disability. The old cob does as he promised, and risks life and limb first to steal and then to pay back for the crime. Sam Beaver is kind to animals and is willing to cross the country to help his friend out of a jam. Only Serena lacks positive attributes, seeming to fall for Louis just because he carries so many material goods around and serenades her on the water.

Educational Properties: Easy tie-in to a music appreciation lesson if you have similar taste as White, who supplies a mixture of American standards (‘Summertime,’ ‘There’s a Small Hotel’ and ‘Beautiful Dreamer’ among those featured) and classical pieces (Brahms’ ‘Cradle Song’ mentioned by name, also Bach, Beethoven and Mozart) for Louis’s set list. A playlist drawn from and inspired by the book could very easily be created. The Trumpet of the Swan was also adapted for symphony in 2011 by Marsha Norman and received very positive reviews – if I ever expand into adaptations, that is certainly one I would like to try.

End of Guide.

With The Trumpet of the Swan I conclude the youth bibliography of Elwyn Brooks White. There is nowhere to go from here and that’s a very satisfying feeling all by itself, the more so given how effortless and enjoyable I found these three short, strange children’s classics to be. My advice for parents would be to gather up all three, start with Charlotte’s Web and see what order your own family would rank them in. I consider The Trumpet of the Swan as the weakest of the three but I also understand why so many other readers are completely charmed by it.

Up Next: Please note that I am changing the posting schedule from Saturday to Monday, owing to recent changes in my life. So next Monday expect a fantasy novel from two-time Carnegie winner Geraldine McCaughrean – finally a British author!

The Western Corner of the Castle

Category: Humour

Wolf Story – William McCleery

Adventure: Tom Sawyer Abroad

Anthropomorphic Fantasy: The Trumpet of the Swan