Most of us are familiar with White solely as the author of Charlotte's Web. However, he was so much more. For years, he served as an essayist for The New Yorker, and his weekly column was a fascinating blend of farm life, life lessons, and political thought.

This book presents many of these essays from the period between 1939 and 1943.

The essays are remarkable for their simple yet meaningful prose. Few writers can compare the culling of chickens to the events unfolding in Europe in 1939 as White does. When he states that there will be no culling of his chickens regardless of their color or laying ability, we understand his profound message.

The essay "Once More to the Lake" is a masterpiece. As we reach middle age and our children reach the ages when our own memories are vivid, we all experience the phenomenon of time folding in on itself.

White writes essays with the same skill as Hemingway writes war stories. They are as good as it gets.

Update: January 24, 2024. I have decided it is time to reread some of White's great works. I will make a few notes on the essays in this collection that strike me the most.

The collection begins with a 1938 piece titled "Removal," which describes the author's decision to upend his life in New York and move full-time to a saltwater farm in Brooklin, Maine.

He writes about his recent encounter with television and how he believes it will change the world. "The news of television, however, is what I particularly go for when I get a chance at the paper, for I believe television is going to be the test of the modern world, and that in this new opportunity to see beyond the range of our vision we shall discover either a new and unbearable disturbance of the general peace or a saving radiance in the sky. We shall stand or fall by television—of that I am quite sure."

He also speaks about the influx of information and its impact. Keep in mind that this was written in 1938. What would he think now? "When I was a child people simply looked about them and were moderately happy; today they peer beyond the seven seas, bury themselves waist deep in tidings, and by and large what they hear and see makes them unutterably sad."

In a column titled "Security," he writes about seeing men getting tattoos at the yearly fair. Instead of the usual anchors, flags, or mermaids, they were having their newly minted social security numbers inscribed in permanent ink. He describes the tattooist as having "plenty of customers, mild-mannered, pale men asking glumly for the sort of indelible ignominy that was once reserved for prisoners and beef cattle."

Note from the present: "Indelible Ignominy" would indeed be a great name for a hip new band.

In an essay titled "Clear Days," he writes about working on his barn roof while Chamberlain makes peace with Hitler. "I’m down now, the barn is tight, the peace is preserved. It is the ugliest peace the Earth has ever received for a Christmas present. Old England eating swastika for breakfast instead of kipper is a sight I had as lief not lived to see. And though I’m no warrior, I would gladly fight for the things Nazism seeks to destroy." It should be noted that White wrote this in the fall of 1938. People knew, we knew, long before or in spite of, or worse yet, because of what we knew, we waited.

A piece titled "Progress and Change" touches on the subject of nostalgia, a topic I have written and spoken about elsewhere recently. He writes, "In resenting progress and change, a man leaves himself open to censure. I suppose the explanation of anyone defending anything so rudimentary and cramped as a Pullman berth is that such things are associated with an earlier period in one’s life and that this period in retrospect seems a happy one. People who favor progress and improvements are apt to be people who have had a tough enough time without any extra inconvenience. Reactionaries who pout at innovations are apt to be well-heeled sentimentalists who had the breaks."

In a piece titled "Sunday Morn," he mentions the practice of saying "Rabbit, Rabbit" at the end of the month. It is interesting to note that, almost a hundred years later, my daughter and I still do this together.

So much of White's writing seems relevant to today. In a column comparing life in New York City to that in a small town in Maine, he observes, "In New York I rise and scan Europe in The Times; in the country I get up and look at the thermometer—a thoroughly self-contained point of view, which, if it could infect everybody everywhere, would I am sure be the most salutary thing that could now happen to the world."

Could we not apply this to our obsession with screens and social media? We could, trust me.

In "A Week in April" published in 1939, he describes the events of a week at the farm. I notice that he continues to include small asides and information from Europe. At this late date, fewer people were fooled by Hitler. White seemed determined to ensure his readers were aware of what was happening. "In Vienna the only topic of conversation is genealogy. You go out to visit friends and you spend the evening in the branches of their family tree. The matter of blood is so vital, no one can think of anything else. A writer whose wife’s Grandmother was a Jew is not permitted to write; a doctor’s whose father’s half-sister is a Jew is not permitted to practice." White wants the truth to be known.

In an essay called "Second World War," he writes about his lobsterman neighbor Damren, whom he accompanies while hauling traps one morning. Writing about the full independence of a lobsterman, he says, "Damren’s whole boat smelled of independence—independence and herring bait." Later, he adds more on the subject of his neighbor and independence: "Freedom is a household word now, but it’s only once in a while that you see a man that is actively, almost belligerently, free. It struck me as we worked our way homeward up the rough bay with our catch of lobsters and a fresh breeze in our teeth that this was what the fight was all about. This was it. Either we would continue to have it or we wouldn’t, this right to speak our own mind, haul our own traps, mind our own business, and wallow in the wide, wide, sea."

In this same essay, he uses a comedic little trick that I enjoyed. Early on, he tells of his chickens and the need to cull the flock unflinchingly. He mentions selling two poor layers to an unsuspecting man from town. Later, in a mention of a trip to church, he writes, "the minister, a young fellow I recently sold some old hens to for a dollar a piece,…." What makes this work is that he does not explain the connection. As the reader, you need to figure it out.

Also in this piece, he makes mention of the Sears Roebuck catalog. "Some day, if I ever get around to it, I would like to write the definitive review of America’s most-fascinating book, the Sears Roebuck catalogue. It is a monumental volume, and in many households is a more powerful document than The Bible. It makes living in the country not only practical but a perpetual night-before-Christmas."

I can attest that, even thirty years later, when I was growing up, it was the same. My Mom bought Christmas presents, kitchen goods, and my slim style "Tough skins" style jeans all through the catalog.

In today's world, it has all come full circle. Amazon provides the constant Christmas if you wish, but instead of picturing Santa's elves, one must imagine workers under constant surveillance being pushed to go faster and faster.

As WWII gets under way, he writes a column titled "World War One" and recounts his experiences as a young man at the outset of the war. He shows us his diary entry of June 3, 1917: "I’m feeling extraordinarily patriotic tonight, after having read the papers. I think tomorrow I shall buy a liberty bond and get a job on a farm. The struggle in Europe isn’t over by any means, and so much history is being made every minute that it’s up to every last one of us to see that it’s the right kind of history."

It was one hundred years ago, I realize. The world has changed in countless ways. One simply cannot imagine many young people today speaking of history and their small part in it with such meaning.

In that same essay, he quotes his own journal entries from that time on the events in Russia. On March 16, 1917, he pasted into his journal an editorial from The Globe on "the emancipation of Russia, which spoke of the sunlight of freedom shining over the Russian steppes."

Almost seven months later, on November 10, he writes, "The Russians have again overthrown their new born republic."

In 1917, White wrote in his journal about his country's slowness to act but held out hope for its eventual rise to the challenge: "Germany stands, solidly defying three fourths of the countries of the world. They all look to us as the only hope of salvation, and I firmly believe that, slow as we are to foresee danger and loath as we seem to be to give up our pleasures and amusements, once in the struggle for fair we will live up to the examples set by our sturdy forefathers…."

On February 18, 1918, upon hearing talk of a potential League of Nations, he writes, "The talk is of Universal Peace after the war - everlasting peace through the medium of an international council. Nations will be ruled by brotherly love and divine principal, arms will be laid down forever and man will return to the ploughshare. Bosh!" His words are filled with an appropriate level of sarcasm.

And then, on November 12, 1918, his diary reads: "Yesterday was one of the greatest days in the history of the world. The war came to an end at 2:15 o’clock in the morning. At half past five a hand pushed against me in the darkness and a voice whispered ‘The whole town of Ithaca must be on fire - listen to the bells!’ Just at that moment the chimes in the library bell tower rang out ‘The Star Spangled Banner,’ and someone down below yelled ‘the war is over.’ Can you imagine such a feeling? Now we would all get news alerts on our phones, but I do not think it would be anywhere close to the same experience.

In a writing titled "Fro-Joy," he laments some changes in the local schools. Many one or two-room schools were being consolidated into a larger school, and busing had become more prevalent. "Whether the improvement is general nobody knows. Certainly something is lost. One thing that is lost is the mere business of walking to school, which is something in itself." The changes he describes have occurred in the town next to his. He continues, "In my community scholars still get around on the hoof. They pass our house at seven in the morning, clicking along in a ground-eating stride." He ends his piece with, "I enjoy living among pedestrians who have an instinctual and habitual realization that there is more to a journey than the mere fact of arrival. If the consolidated school served by busses destroys that in our children, I don’t know that we are ahead of the game after all."

From an essay called "Freedom," he writes about Hitler's words in Mein Kampf. "I learned to gain an insight into the unbelievably primitive opinions and arguments of the people," White quotes Hitler. Then he writes that "to him, the ordinary man is a primitive, capable only of being used and led. He speaks continually of people as sheep, halfwits, and impudent fools - the same people from whom he asks the utmost in loyalty and to whom he promises the ultimate in rewards." I read that and wonder if we are talking about Hitler or someone from our current politics.

In an essay called simply "Dog Training," he humorously expresses what those of us with contrary dogs feel every day. Writing about his dog Free, he says, "Of all the dogs whom I have served I’ve never known one who understood so much of what I say or held in such deep contempt. When I address Fred I never have to raise either my voice or my hopes. He even disobeys me when I instruct him in something he wants to do. And when I answer his peremptory scratch at the door and hold the door open for him to walk through, he stops in the middle and lights a cigarette, just to hold me up."

Writing in response to "The Wave of the Future" by Mrs. Charles Lindbergh, in which she encourages America to stay out of Europe, he has some thoughts about fascism. "The fascist ideal, however great the mystery that released it and however impressive the self-denial and the burning courage that promote it, does not hold the seed of a better order but a worse one, and it always has a foul smell and a bad effect on the soil. It stank at the time of Christ, and it stinks today, wherever you find it and in whatever form, big or little—even here in America, the little fascists always at their tricks, stirring up a lynching mob or flagellating the devil, or selling a sex pamphlet to tired, bewildered old men. The forces are always the same - on the people’s side frustration, disaffection; on the leader’s side control of hysteria, perversion of information, abandonment of principle…"

Perhaps the most famous piece written by White prior to Charlotte and Stuart was "Once More To the Lake," a writing about visiting the camp where he traveled every August with his family as a boy. Taking his own son there to Belgrade Lakes from his home in coastal Maine, he writes about the mirroring and doubling effect he feels as he watches his son experience the same things he did. It is a piece to be cherished no matter how many times one reads it.

In a piece called "Intimations," which he wrote after Pearl Harbor, he speaks of an older woman in town who was convinced that the United States had been at war long before the attack. In fact, she insisted that when all she could get was static on her radio, it was the Germans communicating with their local spies. He continues, "For her this latest attack on Pearl Harbor was just an incident. At that I suspect she is nearer right than most of us. It is better to hear messages in static than to hear no messages in anything: think of the people who have listened to the rumbling and crackling of National Socialism for the last six or eight years without detecting any ominous sound."

Over and over in these essays from the late 1930s, anyone with a knowledge of history has to know that he is living through history of the same type. Only the blind or those willfully refusing to think about it do not see what forces are gathering.

He ends the piece like this: "The whole history of the war so far has been the inability of the people in the democracies to believe their eyes and ears. They didn’t believe the Rhineland, or the persecution of the Jews, or Poland or France or any of it. That phase of the war is over. At least now we can see and hear."

I would argue that today, and perhaps then, people simply do not want to acknowledge something if it could disrupt their lives. Perhaps that is human nature. But it is costly. Over and over and over again.

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E.B. White made a significant change in the late thirties when he swapped the hustle and bustle of New York City for the tranquility of a farm in Maine.

Over the next several years, he shared his rich and diverse experiences through his writings in Harper’s and the New Yorker.

These collected essays cover a wide range of topics, from the mundane farm chores that form the backbone of daily life on the farm to more profound issues like fascism and the seemingly impossible task of training a dachshund.

White’s writing is characterized by its thoughtfulness and clarity. His essays are often humorous, with a light-hearted touch that makes them a joy to read. His outlook is generous, and he is hopeful about the possibilities of democracy.

Now that I’ve finished reading these essays, I find myself missing his company. It’s as if I’ve lost a dear friend who has accompanied me through these pages, sharing his wisdom, his humor, and his unique perspective on life.

E.B. White’s work is a testament to the power of the written word to transport us to different worlds and to connect us with the thoughts and experiences of others.

White was at his absolute best during the years around the start of World War II. He was a plain and yet deeply thoughtful voice of freedom.

His works are truly remarkable. One of the highlights is the brilliant piece, 'Once More to the Lake'. It takes the reader on a beautiful and nostalgic journey.

In addition to this, his commentaries on various topics such as television, patriotism, and the essence of being American are still strikingly relevant today.

White's writing style is simple yet profound, making his ideas accessible to a wide range of readers. His words have the power to make us think, reflect, and question.

Overall, White's contributions to literature and thought during this crucial period in history are invaluable and continue to inspire generations.

IMO, everyone who desires to pen essays should undertake the study of E.B. White's essays. I initiated my acquaintance with him during my childhood as a little girl. However, it was not until I revisited his works as an adult that I fully comprehended the profound impact he had on my writing. By the way, the same can be said about James Herriot and Paul Fussell. Indeed, they are elderly white gentlemen, but they were outstanding writers. They were masters of tone and pacing, and possessed the remarkable ability to subtly insert themselves into stories that were not directly about them. As a result, we end up with the sensation of getting to know them while reading about something else. This is both a natural gift and a cultivated skill.

Moreover, E.B. White is a virtuoso in writing about peaceful matters that may not necessarily be rife with conflict. It is truly lovely. I wholeheartedly recommend his works.

I read 85 pages of this particular book, but unfortunately, I had to return it to the library.

However, I'm really hoping to pick it up again someday. The reason it was taking me such a long time to get through was because it consists of numerous, extremely short essays. I was reading these essays in between other things.

You see, I can't just sit for an hour straight and read a whole bunch of essays on different topics.

The essays in this book started in 1938, and the author writes about his life on a farm in Maine. But that's not all; he also delves into myriad other topics.

One thing I really appreciate about the author is his self-deprecating humor. It adds a unique charm to the book.

Moreover, there are a lot of fun cultural references. For example, he notes that the woods were full of artists drawing deer in preparation for making Walt Disney's Bambi.

There's also a pretty oblique reference to the radio broadcast of War of the Worlds, which many terrified listeners thought was real.

And there's an essay about the 1939 World's Fair. All in all, it's a fascinating read that I'm eager to continue.

In the monthly essays that were published in Harper's Magazine between July 1938 and January 1943, E.B. White delved into a wide range of topics. However, generally speaking, there were two main themes that dominated his works.

One of the themes was his life as a city dweller who had transitioned into a New England farmer. The other was the world at war, both before and after the United States entered the conflict.

These columns were first compiled in a 1942 first edition under the title "One Man's Meat." Then, in this particular edition, they were republished along with another year's worth of work.

It is evident that great care and consideration went into the opinions that White expressed. Alongside his keen observations, these provide beautiful glimpses into life in the first half of the 20th century in America.

While an occasional statement may be considered politically incorrect by today's standards, otherwise, his ideas are often extremely clever or hilariously funny, or sometimes both.

Even better, the quality of his writing is truly unparalleled.

E. B. White, the renowned author, didn't confine himself to penning just "Charlotte's Web" and "Stuart Little." He also crafted this piece, which is equally outstanding. He belongs to that select group of authors who can write with equal finesse for both children and adults.

In 1938, he left NYC, gathered his wife and young son Joel, and relocated to a saltwater farm in Maine. There, he became a farmer while simultaneously working as a columnist for "Harpers." Both he and his wife continued their respective jobs at "The New Yorker" as well! E.B., or Elwyn Brooks (1899 – 1985), had been associated with the magazine since 1927 and wrote for it for six decades! With four incomes, there's no doubt they were well-off, but that doesn't undermine the hard work demanded of them.

We follow the daily life on the farm from July 1938 to January 1943, with the war serving as the backdrop. The chapters progress chronologically, almost month by month. Besides growing crops, he had sheep, pigs, chickens, and finally a cow by the end of the book. He advanced from small endeavors to larger ones. We can label him as a farmer, but in reality, he was a jack-of-all-trades. He writes, thinks, and shares his thoughts on various topics such as politics, diplomacy, isolationism, religion, education, and even about dogs, chickens, and sheep, and what it takes to be a farmer – a job beyond the capabilities of many. He methodically accounts for expenditures and incomes, helps the ewes give birth to lambs in spring, and keeps the fire burning to prevent the chicks from freezing. He shoots the rats in the barn, lays out the hay, and constantly, constantly does repairs. There's a wonderful chapter titled "October 1941 - Memorandum." It's lengthy and details what he must do now, or at least later that day, with sentences starting with 'I ought to', 'I should also', 'I think I'd better', and 'I must'. After reading this, you truly begin to understand the life of a farmer…and him.

We witness his life day by day and hour by hour, and it's far from boring. No, not in the least. There's humor in the way it's told, and he's extremely clever with his words. We come to understand what it was like to live in those times and the ever-present threat of war. Here, we have an intelligent, thinking individual who expresses himself wonderfully. Without the excellent prose, this might have been a dull read.

The book is filled with absolutely marvelous lines. For example, when describing the behavior of New Yorkers, White writes, "And the mass urgency there, under the marquee, as though unless they all escape safely into a cab within five minutes they would die." He also describes a train conductor as "a man who has travelled far but gotten nowhere." Regarding religion, he says, "Religion is tucked away in a bottom drawer for things we love but never use." A poet, according to him, "unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it." And his wife remarks, "I wish poets would be clearer!" There are also lines like "There is more to a journey than the mere arrival" and "I remember the days by the dent they made on me."

On the humorous side, there's tongue-in-cheek humor in almost every line. There are lambs sitting on goose eggs, the annual town meeting where everything is decided beforehand and "the meeting is just to make everything legal," and the puppy, Dusty, constantly "jumping up to kiss someone’s face." When the farm's eggs became too numerous, they had to eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and even had to swap martinis for eggnogs – which was just too much to bear!

I'm not giving it a full five stars because some portions didn't resonate with me; I think they might have gone over my head. Maybe I didn't fully understand the author's intended meaning, which was perhaps clearer to those of his time. However, there isn't much of this.

The audiobook, narrated by Malcolm Hillgartner, is excellently done. He simply reads it, giving you time to think and pausing to allow you to laugh. He speaks clearly. Five stars for the narration – it's unimprovable!

I don't usually have a penchant for essays or short stories, but these chapters hold together beautifully. There's so much to think about and so much to smile at. They offer us a peek into the life of the farmer/author from July 1938 to January 1943 and the mood in New England during the threat and then the outbreak of war. It really is a marvelous read.

A couple of years ago, I attempted to learn more about E.B. White and picked up "The Story of Charlotte's Web: E.B. White's Eccentric Life in Nature and the Birth of an American Classic" by Michael Sims. However, I wasn't overly impressed, and here's why: [link to review]. If you love an author because of their writing, you can only truly experience that through the books they write!

I gained an enormous amount of comfort and profound insights from E. B. White's reflections on his world, on humanity, and on himself.

He was a true humanitarian who had a clear vision of both our bright and shadowy sides. However, he firmly believed that the best within us would ultimately prevail over the worst.

Glorying in the ordinary of every day, he had the remarkable ability to help us see the world with fresh eyes and love with renewed hearts.

It's truly quite remarkable for a man who defined himself in such an interesting way, saying, "leading a duel existence—half farmer, half literary gent—I found difficulty making myself sound like anything but a flibbertigibbet."

His words and thoughts have had a lasting impact on countless readers, inspiring us to look at life from a different perspective and to always strive for the better within ourselves and in the world around us.

I truly adored this book. It was such an incredibly enjoyable read that I couldn't put it down.

Now, I have a strong desire to revisit some of White's children's stories. I have this feeling that if I do, I will be able to hear his unique voice in them even more clearly than before.

His writing has always had a special charm that captured my imagination as a child, and I believe that as an adult, I will be able to appreciate it on a whole new level.

I'm looking forward to rediscovering the magic and wonder that lies within his stories, and I'm sure it will be a truly memorable experience.

Simply put, this is one of my all-time favorite books. I was truly sad when I reached the end. I have a passion for reading essays and also love to write them. However, this book is not just about reading the works of a master in the format. Somehow, this collection of incredibly funny, sweet, personal, and very masculine stories is assembled in such a way (either through careful editing or by their own natural chronological order) that they form a narrative of his life just before and during the start of WWII. He truly comes alive within these pages. At times, I even forgot that I was reading essays - they are so rich and vivid that they go beyond what is on the page in my mind and now feel like anecdotes shared with me by a really good friend. I have no clue what to read now. Everything seems to pale in comparison at the moment. It is that good. I really need to obtain a hardcopy for myself so that I can have it for decades to come and pull it down to read whenever I need to hear from an old friend. Really. It is that powerful.

If you are only familiar with E.B. White as the author of the renowned "Charlotte's Web," then it's time to explore another aspect of his literary genius. Many of his essays focus on country living and his experiences as a gentleman farmer.

These essays were written just before and during World War II, providing readers with a unique window into a specific time and place. They offer valuable insights and lessons that we can all benefit from.

By delving into White's descriptions of rural life, we can gain a deeper understanding of the simple pleasures and challenges that come with it. His vivid portrayals bring to life the beauty of the countryside and the close-knit community that exists there.

Whether you are a lover of literature, a history buff, or simply someone who enjoys a good read, these essays are highly recommended. They will transport you to a different era and leave you with a newfound appreciation for the world around us.

So, give them a try and discover the charm and wisdom of E.B. White's essays on country living.