海角大神

E.B. White鈥檚 essays argue eloquently against extremism

A new collection, put together by his granddaughter, demonstrates what made him such a pointed observer of representative government.

Elwyn Brooks White is best known as the author of children鈥檚 stories such as 鈥淐harlotte鈥檚 Web鈥� and 鈥淪tuart Little鈥� that remain reliable classics.

But White, who died in 1985, is also celebrated as a writer for adults. He divided his time between New York City and a farm in coastal Maine, crafting personal essays that, more than three decades after his passing, endure as exemplars of the form.

White was a master of conversational prose, excelling at sentences that seem perfectly balanced. To read his work is to feel balanced too. With their underlying tone of moderation, White鈥檚 essays resonate with a subtly political dimension even when they鈥檙e supposedly about nothing more than an afternoon on the farm or a morning in Manhattan. They constituted, in their own way, an abiding argument against the extremism of White鈥檚 times.

When 鈥淥ne Man鈥檚 Meat,鈥� White鈥檚 collection of commentaries about rural New England, was published in a special edition for members of the Armed Forces in the 1940s, it became a favorite among those fighting World War II. White鈥檚 unassumingly democratic voice 鈥� sane, sensible, self-deprecating, suspicious of cant 鈥� reminded them what they were fighting for.

The only challenge with White鈥檚 essays is that not enough of them are in wide circulation. He was exacting with his prose, selecting only a relative handful of his pieces from The New Yorker, Harper鈥檚, The Atlantic Monthly and other magazines to preserve in his books.

Martha White, his granddaughter and literary executor, has remained almost as judicious in drawing material from her grandfather鈥檚 archive for new book projects. Given the singularity of E.B. White鈥檚 literary art, the anthologies Martha White has brought out in recent years have been a cause for celebration. They include 鈥淓.B. White on Dogs,鈥� an assortment of his prose on all things canine; and 鈥淚n the Words of E.B. White,鈥� a distillation of his pithiest observations.

Now comes "E.B. White On Democracy," in which Martha White surveys her grandfather鈥檚 thoughts on representative government. As with her previous anthologies, 鈥淥n Democracy鈥� is partly a curation of material from other White volumes, but it also includes items that haven鈥檛 been published in book form before.

White wasn鈥檛 a grand thinker about governance. 鈥淭he Wild Flag,鈥� his one attempt at a sustained political philosophy, was a forgettable argument for one-world government written near the close of World War II. White later dismissed the book as 鈥渄reamy and uninformed,鈥� perhaps sensing that its vague theorizing worked against his natural gifts.

White was most eloquent when he grounded his ideas in the granular particularity of daily life, for he was, memorably, a reporter at heart.

The most persuasive selections in 鈥淥n Democracy鈥� riff on the headlines of White鈥檚 day, such as when he addressed the despotism of America鈥檚 opponents during World War II and the red baiting zealotry of U.S. Sen. Joseph McCarthy in the 1950s. This would seem, at first glance, to date 鈥淥n Democracy鈥� as a mere period piece. But in writing against fanaticism, White wrestled with challenges that seem, alas, still too much with us.

In 鈥淔reedom,鈥� a 1940 essay included here, White dissects the tendency to gradually accommodate the erosion of democratic ideals, an ostensible exercise in pragmatism that inevitably proves corrupting. 鈥淲here I expected to find indignation,鈥� he writes of his fellow Americans鈥� initial shrugging ambivalence about Adolf Hitler, 鈥淚 found paralysis, or a sort of dim acquiescence, as in a child who is dully swallowing a distasteful pill.鈥�

Against this sense of surrender, White offers his creed:

I just want to tell, before I get slowed down, that I am in love with freedom and that it is an affair of long standing and that it is a fine state to be in, and that I am deeply suspicious of people who are beginning to adjust to fascism and dictators merely because they are succeeding in war. From such adaptable natures a smell arises. I pinch my nose.

That passage points to White鈥檚 strengths as a stylist. The crowded first sentence seems to spill out its message, an analog to White鈥檚 ecstatic embrace of liberty. Then the next two sentences become progressively shorter, as if he鈥檚 descending from his soapbox to speak more intimately with his audience. At his best, White also emulates to good effect his hero Henry David Thoreau, who could use gripping physical imagery to make the theoretical more concrete. When White pinches his nose at extremism, he鈥檚 reminding his readers that such policies have tangible, real-world consequences.

In his introduction, journalist and author Jon Meacham takes pains to draw parallels between White鈥檚 cautions about autocratic values and our present-day concerns about political cults of personality. But it鈥檚 not really necessary for Meacham, however well-meaning, to connect the dots for us.

Although he left the scene a generation ago, White can still speak for himself, and he sounds thoroughly up to date. 鈥淢an鈥檚 curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble,鈥� he wrote in 1973. 鈥淲e can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out.鈥�