E.B. White
Author of the much beloved Charlotte's Web, Elwyn Brooks White was born this day in 1899, and went on to become a celebrated American writer of surprising character.  He defended free speech even in the McCarthy era, wrote an essay on the vulnerability of New York oft-cited in reflections after September 11, and showed immense respect for nature.  He argued against pollution, bemoaned that "Our approach to nature is to beat it into submission," and declared, "I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority."
To say he's an interesting fellow would be an understatement.  An eccentric and intelligent man, White co-authored the comprehensive style guide and grammar handbook The Elements of Style, yet also once quipped that "Semi-colons only prove that the author has been to college."  He was a man of simplicity, not pretense, a man who did not flinch away from humility, who at age 70 remarked, "I was born scared and am still scared."  White suffered from anxiety throughout his life; he hated publicity and attention, preferred writing letters over spoken conversation, and was reputed to leave his workplace through the fire escape rather than face a stranger.  Expressing his emotions was a matter of difficulty for him, but he could relate to animals in a way he never had with people, so when he was bubbling with excitement for the birth of his son, he devised a clever way to help express his happiness to his pregnant wife, Katherine: he wrote her a letter from the perspective of their dog, Daisy, and imagined the animal speaking for him in order to convey his feelings.

Frequently struggling with his writing, White found inspiration in the natural world and "imagined personality into everything", intuitively personifying what he saw.  White says the project of writing Charlotte's Web, an unusually dark story for children, "started innocently enough" and developed into the tale we know today only because he took pleasure in the process of writing it.  The titular Charlotte herself was inspired by a real spider, whose egg sac he took home with him after she disappeared and whose offspring subsequently infested his apartment.  The little things were spinning webs everywhere.  Rather than be repulsed, White was fascinated.

White devoted himself to meticulous research for the writing of Charlotte's Web, learning all he could about spiders, the information from which he then spun into the charming simplicity of a children's story.  Anthropomorphism has long been viewed as a juvenile literary technique, but White's work makes the case that it's entirely possible for talking animals to participate in a mature story that reaffirms life while wrestling with the inevitability of mortality. 

Like E. B. White, we at Chungaboo would like to nurture in every child a sense of awe and curiosity toward all living things.  If your family is one that doesn't mind crowds as much as he did, we wish to extend an invitation to our upcoming BookBash this weekend, to celebrate life and the joy of reading, and we hope you take a moment to remember this quiet man who fathered a masterpiece.

"All that I hope to say in books, all that I ever hope to say, is that I love the world."
--E. B. White
 
 
We all have a wolf suit.  It’s white, mangy, and is soaked in the amalgamation aroma of moth balls, lemon zest, and dark chocolate.  It sits in the way back, behind things of consequence.  Our wolf suit is blockaded by the measurable, calculable, and the unmistakably adult.  Your wolf suit is far too small; “No,” you say, “I cannot be asked to wear that”.  Your pale ankles and wrists peek out of the fabric.  “This wolf suit is for a child, I am not a child”, you say, “I have outgrown the wild thing I once was.”  True, you have grown, but a wild thing is ungrowable, it is inalienable, and it is indestructible.

A wild thing does not require terrible teeth, terrible eyes, and terrible claws to be wild.  A wild thing is an inimitable thing; it is a unique and enduring thing.  A wild thing can only be imagined at; a wild thing is what we tell bedtime stories about.  A wild thing is what you wish, but not what you want.  A wild thing is never there, but is always with you.  A wild thing is what never was, but will always be. 

So, where are they?  An exotic tropical island beyond a turbulent ocean populated with sea monsters and jagged rocks?  Or are they simply found on the underside of a childhood bed?  Wild things are in that special place; behind that special door that no one else can open for you.  “But wait”, you sputter from the steaming sips of your morning coffee, “what is so great about being wild, anyway?”  Being wild is being inquisitive.  To be wild is to be a skeptic who also believes in every fairytale.  “But I like who I am, I am proud of what I have achieved,” you add on your way out the door, “why would I want to change the successful person I have become?” Being wild isn’t a transformation or even a mutation; it is an augmentation, an evolution.  The wolf suit cannot move without a person inside, you have to be the person to give a wild thing life.  Be a version of yourself you have always wanted to be.

A wolf suit is a wonderful thing.  It is awesome, empowering, and invisible.  You can wear a wolf suit to work for your presentation, on your first date with someone whom you really like, or even when you’re helping your children with their homework.  Wear a wolf suit at the movie theater, in the car, at the gym, in the library, and in your imagination.  Be courageous, be daring, be bold.  A wolf suit is a wonderful thing.  Try it on, I bet it’s just your size.

Happy birthday, Maurice Sendak.  Thank you for being the wolf you wanted to be.