I haven't told why I wrote the book, but I haven't told why I sneeze, either. A book is a sneeze. Yours sincerely, E. B. White

Transcription

1 .4. T!!IT~ He was graduated was born in Mount Vernon, N. Y., in 1899, and attended public schools there. from Cornell University in 1921, worked in New York for a year, then traveled about. After five or six years of trying many sorts of jobs, he joined the staff of The New Yorker Magazine, then in its infancy. The connection proved a happy one and resulted in a steady output of satirical sketches, poems, essays, and editorials. His essays have also appeared in Harper's Magazine. He is the author of eleven books of prose and poetry; the list includes ONE MAN'S MEAT, QUO VADIMUS?, HERE IS NEW YORK, THE SECOND TREE FROM THE CORNER, and THE POINTS OF MY COMPASS. STUART LITTlE and CHARLOTTE'S WEB (first runner-up for the 1952 Newbery Award) are the two books he has written for children. In 1938 Mr. White moved to the country. On his farm in Maine he kept animals, and some of these creatures got into his stories and books. Mr. White says he finds writing difficult and bad for one's disposition, but he keeps at it. He began STUART LITTlEin the hope of amusing a six-year-old niece of his, but before he finished it, she had grown up. On the next pages, Mr. White tells how he came to write CHARLOTTE'SWEB. In 1961 Mr. White received the National Institute of Arts and Letters' Gold Medal for Essays and Criticism. He is the recipient of honorory degrees from seven colleges and universities. He is married and has a son and three grandchildren.

2 Dear Friends, I have been asked to tell how I came to write tccharlocce's Web." Well, I like animals, and it would be odd if I failed to write about them. Animals are a weakness with me, and when I got a place in the country I was quite sure animals would appear, and t hey did. A farm is a peculiar problem for a man who likes animals, because the fate of most livestock is that they are murdered by their benefactors. The creatures may live serenely but they end violently, and the odor of doom hangs about them always. I have kept several pigs, srart ing them in spring as weanlings and carrying slops to them all through the summer and fall. The relationship bothered me. Day by day I became better acquainted with my pig, and he with me, and the fact that the whole adventure pointed toward an eventual piece of doubledealing on my pare lent an eerie quality to the thing. I do not like co betray a person or a creature, and I tend to agree with Mr. E. M. Forster that in these times the duty of a man, above all else, is to be reliable. It used to be clear to me, slopping a pig, that as far as the pig was concerned I could not be counted on, and this, as I say, troubled me. Anyway, the theme of Charlotte's Web" is that a pig shall be saved, and I have an idea that somewhere deep inside me there was a wish to that effect. As for Charlotte herself, I had never paid much attention to spiders until a few years ago. Once you begin watching spiders, you haven't time for much el see-the world is really loaded with them. I do not find them repulsive or revolting, any more than I find anything in nature repulsi ve or revolting, and I think it is too bad that children are often corrupted by their elders in this hate campaign. Spiders are skilful, amusing, and useful, and although their bite can be painful, or in some specre s even fatal, spiders usually let people alone unless provoked.

3 One cold October evening I was lucky enough to see Aranea Cavarica spin her egg sac and deposit her eggs. (I did not know her name at the time, but I admired her, and later Mr. Willis J. Gertsch of the American Museum of Natural History told me her name.) When I saw that she was fixing to become a mother, I got a stepladder and an extension light and had an excellent view of the whole business. A few days later, when it was time to return to New York, not wishing to part with my spider, I took a razor blade, cut the sac adrift from the underside of the shed roof, put spider and sac in a candy box, and carried them to town. I tossed the box on my dresser. Some weeks later I was surprised and pleased to find that Charlotte's daughters were emerging from the air holes in the cover of the box. They strung tiny lines from my comb to my brush, from my brush to my mirror, and from my mirror to my nail scissors. They were very busy and almost invisible, they were so small. We all lived together happily for a couple of weeks, and then somebody whose duty it was to dust my dresser balked, and I broke up the show. At the present time, three of Charlotte's granddaughters are trapping at the foot of the stairs in my barn cellar, where the morning light, coming through the east window, illuminates their embroidery and makes it seem even more wonderful than it is. I haven't told why I wrote the book, but I haven't told why I sneeze, either. A book is a sneeze. Yours sincerely, E. B. White

4 - P. L. Travers' review of CHARLOTTE'S WEB and STUART LITTLE describes the magic quality which readers young and old have found in these two classics- "Stuart Little's quest for his flown bird differs in terminology only from the quest of every fairy-tale prince for his lost princess. Love is at the core of it. We are not told the end of the story for no true story has an ending, but we feel the door swinging wide as the Mouse steers towards the North... The same with Wilbur. He, too, loses a precious friend, experiences the pain of it and the joy that follows after pain when he hatches her spider children... The sense of delight in daily things is as strong in Charlotte's Web as it was in Stuart Little. There is goodness and meaning in simply being alive. Such tangible magic is the proper element of childhood... " llj!1i iita L !, STUARTLffIlE by E. B. WHITE,; c-, ' Harper & Row, Publishers, 49 East 33d Street, New York 16, New York

5 - E. B. WHITE NORTH BROOKLIN. MAINE 29 Sept Dear Ursula: Thanks for your dandy letter ~nd for the book. If I ever get time I'm going to read the book. I think it looke very nice and I agree with you that the endpaper is too bright. But on the other hand, I'm not sure that anybody thinks about endpaper except publishers, and probably not more than 1800 people in the United States have ever heard the word "endpaper", and they are all stevenson people. Enclosed are some remarks that I hope will satisfy your Publicity Department. Sorry to Lear nth a t Dr. Canby is revolted by spiders. Probably he doesn't meet the right spidere. Did you know that Dr. Canby has ~_wife named "Lfidyll? Yrs,

6 I have been asked to tell how I came to write "Charlotte's Web. II 'Jell, I like animals, and it would be odd if I failed to write about them. Animals are ~ weakness with me, and when I got a place in the country I was quite sure animals would appear, ~nd they did. A farm is a peculiar problem for a man who likes animals, because the fate of most livestock is that they are murdered by their benefactors. The creatures may live serenely but they end violently, and the odor of doom hangs about them Iillways. I have kep t several pigs, atart Lng them in spring as weanlings and carrying trays to them all through the Bummer and fall. The relationship bothered me. Day by day I beca~me betl er aoquainted with my pig, and he with me, and the fact that the whole adventure pointed toward an eventual piece of double-dealing on my part lent an eerie quali ty to the thing. I do not like to betray a person or a creature, and I tend to agree with Mr. E.M. Forste-r that in theee times the duty of a man, above all else, ie to be relili.ble. It used to be clear to me, slopping it pig, that as far as the pig was ooncerned I could not be counted on, and this, as I say, troubled me. Anyway, the theme of "Charlotte'e Webt! is that a pig shall be saved, and I have an idelilthat somewhere deep inside me there was a wish to that effect. As for Charlotte herself, I had never paid much

7 attention to spiders until a few years ago. Once you begin watching spiders, you haven't time for much else---the world i8 really loaded with them. I do not find them repulsive or revolting, any more than I find anyyhing in nature repul Ive or revolting, and I think it is too b8d that children are often corrupted by their elder in this hate campaign. Spiders are skilful, amusing, and useful, and only in rare instances hae anybody ever come to grief becauee of a spider. One cold oc tobe r event ng I wa lucky enough to see Arilnea Cav8.t1cil.spin her egg sac and depo st t her egg. (I did not know her name at the time, 'out I admired her, and llii.ter Mr. Willis J. G.ertch of the American Mu eum of Natural Hi tory told me her n.~e.) When I saw that she was fixing to become a mother, I got Ii stepladder and an extension light and had an excellent view of the whole businees. A few days la.ter, when it was time to return to New York, not wishing to part with my spider, I took a razor blade, cut the sac adri~ from the underside of the shed roof, put spider and sac in a candy box, and carried them to town. I tossed the box on my drea ere Some weeks later I was surprised and pleased to fim that Charlotte' daughters were emerging from the air holes in the cover of the box. They strung tiny linea from my comb to my brush, from my brush to my mirror, and from my mirror to my nail CiSSOTS. They were very busy and almost invirible, they were so small, We all 11ved togethe r happi ly for 8.couple of weeks, and then somebody whoee duty it was to dust my dresser

8 balked, and I broke up the show. At the present time, three of Ch~rl tte's granddaughters are tr.pping at the foot of the stairs in my barn cellar, where the morning light, coming through the east seem window, illuminates their embroidery and makea itl\even more wonder ul than it is. I haven't told why I wrote the book, but I haven't told why I sneeze, either. A book is a neeze.

9 An Octo' r l' 195Z will aulj8a, iti. I nolo. er -11'} - r r6ioa.j'k..0. Publtc1t lot... t th ell.