The Wind in the Willows: A Rediscovery of a Beloved Classic
Recently, during a wonderful period of having very little to do, I’ve had the pleasure of going through a series of re-reads of a number of books that have been personal favourites for many years.
One of these which I was all to happy to once again get lost in was Kenneth Grahame’s 1908 masterwork The Wind in the Willows. I was first introduced to the book when I was very young, but unlike virtually every other children’s book (which I imagine is the same for most people), that we all to quickly lose interest in as we grow older, Wind in the Willows time and time again has been as fun and wonderful to read as ever, and always ready to welcome me back to the Riverbank.
It’s an incredibly beautiful story that works for children and adults alike, an homage and a love letter to rural England. It’s romance with the Arcadian English countryside and the joyful and relaxed lifestyle of a bygone time that these characters embark on is almost completely lost to us now, but we get an echo of it through these pages that gives us a glimpse into the joy of simple living.
The story itself works effectively in two, albeit connected halves: First there are the tales of the many and numerous (mis)adventures of Toad, as he discovers his longing for the open road and motorcars, and the trials that this leads him to prison, a daring and hilarious escape, and the fight for his home in the climax of the book. This half was quite obviously written for children, and some editions of the book follow only the escapades of Toad.
As a child myself I adored Toad endlessly. Despite many reviews of the book criticising Toad for being rather irritating, which I do now understand if not completely agree with, to children this character will always remain hilarious and enthralling. His wit, his humour, enthusiasm, and most importantly, his tendency to jump from interest to interest with a startling rapidity and whole-hearted enthusiasm parallels perfectly to the inquisitive, impetuous, and thrill-seeking mind of a child, so it’s hardly a surprise that this character does so well with younger audiences, myself in the past included.
As I’m sure it is for many a childhood lover of this book, as I’ve continued to read this charming story over the years, I’ve become interested, charmed, and ultimately fallen in love with the second, slower half of the book that exists almost completely separately to the other. This half of the book follows the episodic travels and experiences of the Mole and the Rat, and it is this part of Grahame’s novel that I have come to love more and more as time goes on.
This half goes on to give us a window into the now almost lost art of slow and pleasurable living, taking joy in the small and ordinary parts of life, and most of all, friendship. If I had to pick a theme for this book (and there are a wide range of possibilities) I can’t think of one that more completely encompasses these charming stories.
These themes and explorations are most apparent in the chapters Mr. Badger, and Dulce Domum, two self contained stories that revolve around friendship, home, and simple pleasures. And they also happen to be my favourite.
The chapter on Mr. Badger begins following Mole and Rat’s dark trek through the Wild Wood, and its warmth of home, hospitality and comfort paints a stark contrast to the dark, frozen and unforgiving wood, in which the two animals are invited into the home of Mr. Badger. But the real thematic pleasure comes the following morning, in which the three characters, along with Otter, enjoy a wonderfully warm breakfast on a frosty winter morning, and indulge in each other’s company in a simple but exquisite way.
The image of a few good friends enjoying a morning meal around a cheerful fire is one that sadly almost seems anachronistic today, and possibly because of this, never fails to delight.
Dulce Domum, or “sweetly homeward” starts off on a similarly painful note as readers will know, but ultimately works as probably the best and most heartwarming chapter of the whole novel. Centred around homecoming, friendship and simple human (or in this case) animal kindness, this chapter is my personal favourite. Mole begins by sensing his home that he left in the beginning of the tale, and after an emotional scene with Rat they embark to find it. Once there, they happen to come across the wondrous field mice that break into an enchanting carol, one that stays with you for some time, before offering them shelter and food in return for good company.
The emotions evoked are universal and yet personal. The enjoyment of finding oneself home again after a long absence, close friends ridding you of your sorrows with their laughter and cheer, and the intoxicating feeling of once more being in your own bed.
In essence, I find the Wind in the Willows to evoke the deep themes of friendship, the adventurous spirit, and most importantly, the simple but exquisite pleasures of home. It remains to this day my favourite work of the English Classics.
As a footnote, I also wished to include some of my favourite passages from the novel for those either unfamiliar with the book or just always welcome to some of Grahame’s eloquence:
“Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way!”
“The smell of that buttered toast simply spoke to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cozy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one’s ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.”
“He thought his happiness was complete when, as he meandered aimlessly along, suddenly he stood by the edge of a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before — this sleek, sinuous, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on fresh playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiver — glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble.”
“They braced themselves for the last long stretch, the home stretch, the stretch that we know is bound to end, some time, in the rattle of the door-latch, the sudden firelight, and the sight of familiar things greeting us as long-absent travellers from far over-sea…”
