Winnie-the-Pooh
is one of the
greatest works of literature ever written. Some say that it overshadowed the
rest of A. A. Milne’s work, but if this is what he’s most remembered for, then
there’s no problem as far as I can see. I like it, I really do.
This body of work is a collection of
short stories about the lives and happenings of a group of children’s toy
animals in a forest. There’s Winnie-the-Pooh himself, a stuffed bear with a
love of honey that borders on the addictive, Christopher Robin his owner/master/demi-god,
Piglet who is only a Very Small Animal, Rabbit who likes to order everyone
around, Owl who sits and pontificates, Kanga who fusses over Roo, and Roo who
only exists to worry Kanga. Later on there’s Tigger, who Bounces. And there’s
Eeyore. We’ll come to him later. Of course, what we call Winnie-the-Pooh is actually two short books, published one after
the other, Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner, but they’re
both so short that they can be safely compiled into one volume that can be read
in the space of a weekend. The version I’ve got here is titled The World of Pooh. Call it what you
will, you must find it and read it, if you haven’t done so already. Don’t be
put off by the fact it’s a children’s book – children are more intelligent than
people suspect, and it looks to me that A. A. Milne seemed to know this.
Pooh himself is often cited as a
Bear of Very Little Brain, who spends most of his finite mental abilities
making up little hums and rhymes, or else trying to coax honey out of his
friends on the pretext of visiting them. It is this straightforward approach to
life however that occasionally allows him to solve the day-to-day problems that
crop up in the forest, such as when he turns an empty honey-pot into a crude
floatation device so that he could
escape a flood, or to just follow his instincts when he ends up lost in the
mist. His kindly, easy-going nature has even gone as far as to be used as an
illustration for the principles of Taoism, as seen in the popular little book The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff – I can
in fact recommend this book too, as a supplement to Winnie-the-Pooh. I can’t claim to know much of Taoism outside of
what appears in either book, but by illustrating its basic tenets with
references from Winnie-the-Pooh, this
Hoff chap makes it sound rather enlightened. At the end of the day, if everyone
were a little more like Pooh and less like Rabbit, or Eeyore, then the world
would be a better place. This is why Winnie-the-Pooh
has the scent of brilliance.
While I like the idea of comparing
Pooh to a western Taoist philosopher, I think there’s something more to it than
that. The beauty and comedy of this book comes down solely to its writing, of
the confusion that takes place between the characters in their dialogue. So
much of it comes directly from their child-like misunderstanding of what the
other character is saying, and is then followed up by the reveal that the first
character doesn’t really know either, and is caught out. Take this instance in
the first chapter:
‘Once upon a time, a
very long time ago now, about last Friday, Winnie-the-pooh lived in a forest
all by himself under the name of Sanders.
“What does ‘under the
name’ mean?” asked Christopher Robin.
“It means he had the
name over the door in gold letters and lived under it.”’*
Or this:
‘And the door opened
and Owl looked out.
“Hallo, Pooh,” he
said. “How’s things?”
“Terrible and sad,”
said Pooh, “because Eeyore, who is a friend of mine, has lost his tail. And
he’s Moping about it. So could you very kindly tell me how to find it for him?”
“Well,” said Owl, “the
customary procedure in such cases is as follows.”
“What does Crustimoney
Proseedcake mean?” said Pooh. “For I am a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long
words Bother me.”
“It means the Thing to
Do.”
“As long as it means
that, I don’t mind,” said Pooh humbly.’**
In fact, Owl is usually at the root
of this sort of comedy, for he tends to use overly complicated means to express
himself, which of course only means that the others can barely understand him.
This is best illustrated during the episode when it rained lots:
‘It was on this
morning that Owl came flying over the water to say “How do you do?” to his
friend Christopher Robin.
“I say, Owl,” said
Christopher Robin, “isn’t this fun? I’m on an island!”
“The atmospheric
conditions have been very unfavourable lately,” said Owl.
“The what?”
“It has been raining,”
explained Owl.
“Yes,” said
Christopher Robin. “It has.”
“The flood-level has
reached an unprecedented height.”
“The who?”
“There’s a lot of
water about,” explained Owl.
“Yes,” said
Christopher Robin, “there is.”
“However, the
prospects are rapidly becoming more favourable. At any moment –“
“Have you seen Pooh?”***
So yes. The thing is, that this sort
of comedy ought to appeal to children especially, because adult-speak must seem
terribly needlessly complicated to them. Why did Owl have to always try to say
things in such a convoluted way, using such big words when he could convey the
same meaning with fewer, simpler words? Why do I have to do the same thing in
these book reviews? Could it be that I’m just trying to make myself feel more
intelligent? In this way it could almost be seen as a satire of language,
showing just how silly advanced English seems when it’s comprehended by
children. It is not that they can’t understand the ideas being presented, just
that the long words offer an unnecessary barrier. Being someone with a
vocabulary that is probably a little too large, I found this book endearingly
hilarious for these very reasons.
Now then... the issue of Eeyore.
This misery-guts of a donkey has, thanks largely to the Disney adaptations of
the character, gained something of a cult-following as somebody who’s soppy yet
endearing.
THIS IS NOT THE CASE! EEYORE IS AN
ABSOLUTE ASS!
He’s a miserable stick-in-the-mud,
rude, manipulative and unpleasant, and he delights in complaining bitterly,
whilst in the next breath by claiming to rise above it as a matter of course,
because he’s too good to complain.
‘Mustn’t grumble’ is the keyword here. The thing is that he clearly enjoys
being miserable as it gives him something to complain about, and makes himself
feel better by acting superior to everybody else, liberally insulting them for not
giving him his due attention and respect. In many ways Eeyore is the best
character of the lot just because he’s such a sharp contrast to everybody else,
so self-absorbed, so unpleasant, and how he tries to drag everybody else down
with his bitterness. I don’t know how the cult-of-Eeyore could justify their
love of him, but in the book he is essentially the opposite of Pooh, which in
effect makes him the antagonist of the series. Only his reverence of
Christopher Robin could possibly redeem him, and the way that in the final
chapter he behaved like a bit less of an ass
than usual. Still an ass mind,
but not as much of one.
So there you have it – Winnie-the-Pooh is an intelligent little
introduction to the English language, one that demonstrates just how silly and
entertaining it really is. The characters are lovable, except for Eeyore who’s
not, and the interactions and trials of their friendship is genuinely
heart-warming. Whether you see it as an illustration of Taosim, a satire of
language , or just a fond little childhood retreat, Winnie-the-Pooh is an excellent read and will improve your life
just by reading it.
[Disclaimer: I’m not really sure
what to do with one of these, as I’ve never used one before to my knowledge,
but I must apologise about the whole Eeyore issue. Yes, I do quite like Eeyore,
he’s an excellent character and the whole of Pooh is enriched by his presence. I suppose my issue with him,
besides everything bad I said about him before, is that I see a lot of myself
in Eeyore when I read this And I Don’t Like What I’m Seeing! You know, when I
was a youngster, back way over a decade ago now, one of my teachers once made
the observation, in front of an entire classroom of other children, that I was
the most like Eeyore. It traumatised me, this did, as Eeyore is a right ass, and to be told this did not aid in
my emotional upbringing in any way. In
many ways though, I more identify with Piglet nowadays, with his timidity and
his endless worrying, but I’ll take this any day over the bog-dwelling gloomy
donkey who Never Stops Complaining.]
References ('cos I'm a professional, like that)
*
Milne, A.A. The World of Pooh. Methuen
Children’s Books: London. (1958). pp.16-17
**
Milne. P.56
***
Milne. P.136
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