“The Wind in the Willows” is a glorious summer book that may be one of a kind in its ability to stir the soul to the joys of the good life.
Written by English author Kenneth Grahame in 1908, “The Wind in the Willows” is about the friendship of animals who represent, in a sense, types of people. Mole and Rat become friends after Mole runs from the doldrums of spring cleaning and discovers a river and a companionable Rat, a water vole who lives on the river and introduces him to this new expanse of the world.
These two befriend Mr. Toad of Toad Hall and are often engaged in keeping him out of the trouble he causes himself due to his chasing after new fads, especially motorcars. Their adventures lead them to seek and find the mysterious Badger of the wild woods, see Toad manage a madcap prison break, and besiege Toad Hall to rid it of the weasels who take it over.
The tale brings a charming anthropomorphization of complementary temperaments with such tremendous depth of feeling and, as the opening of the tale puts it, a “spirit of divine discontent and longing.”
This is also a book that hints to us a little of what secrets the wind whispers to the willows. It reveals the rumors of the river, and it pauses in the music that plays at the gates of dawn. Grahame’s masterpiece praises the commonplace, just as summer reminds all of the praise due to common marvels.
“The Wind in the Willows” may be the quintessential children’s story for adults—a book that requires patience, pondering, and even a prayerful attitude. It is a book that is committed to the whimsical world it creates. And by taking seriously even the silly little things that make up its events, it discovers a strangely enduring wisdom that lies in such trifles as spring cleaning, dark forests, picnics, and messing about in boats.
“[‘The Wind in the Willows’] is a test of character. We can’t criticize it, because it is criticizing us. … When you sit down to it, don’t be so ridiculous as to suppose that you are sitting in judgment on my taste, or on the art of Kenneth Grahame. You are merely sitting in judgment on yourself. You may be worthy: I don’t know. But it is you who are on trial.”
Grahame’s story is not exactly a children’s book, but children are the ones who appreciate it most readily. Perhaps they feel there is something more to the story than what they can understand, which is the way children experience the whole world, and what makes it (and this story) wonderful to them. “The Wind in the Willows” is like viewing the whole world through a child’s eyes. It passes over the panorama of wood and field, of wilderness and home, of calm and crisis, of oars and cudgels, of comrades and competitors—with joy, practicality, humor, and, most of all, wonder.
