1953: SECRET OF THE ANDES by Ann Nolan Clark, with illustrations by Jean Charlot
“What are you doing, Cusi?”
“Sun comes up and shines so bright/
And disappears again at night/
It's just another ordinary miracle today”
-Sarah McLachlan
Do you know who Nancy Zerg is? She was on Jeopardy! on November 30, 2004, and won $14,401, which is okay but not like mind-blowing for Jeopardy!. Then, because she had won, she was also on the next episode of Jeopardy! that aired on December 1, 2004, and came in third. So, one win and out. My mom won three times when she was on Jeopardy! five years later; I know winning Jeopardy! even once is something, but I mean, there’s no real reason to remember Nancy Zerg because she won one game of Jeopardy! But the reason I remember Nancy Zerg is not because she won Jeopardy! on November 30, 2004, but rather because of who lost on Jeopardy! on November 30, 2004. Nancy Zerg came in first. Ken Jennings came in second.
Yeah. On November 30, 2004, Ken Jennings had won 74 consecutive games of Jeopardy!1, with cumulative winnings totaling over two and a half million dollars. People thought he would be on the show forever, and now that he has become the permanent host of Jeopardy! after a completely hassle-free search for a replacement for the dearly departed Alex Trebek, he basically will be on the show forever. But he blanked on “What is H&R Block?” on final jeopardy2 and lost, for the first time. Jennings actually lost on Jeopardy! two other times - he lost the 2005 Ultimate Tournament of Champions to Brad Rutter, and he lost an exhibition match to the IBM Watson natural language computer system in 2011 - but he lost a regular-ass game to Nancy Zerg, a woman whose name I will never forget, not because of what she did, but because of who she beat. Such is the fate of 1953 Newbery medalist Secret Of The Andes in children’s literature.
I have referenced, a few times now, the 2012 School Library Journal survey to determine the greatest children’s novel of all time, but never mentioned the number one pick by name. But it’s Charlotte’s Web. The survey respondents recognized it, universally acclaimed the famous novel by New Yorker contributing editor E.B. White, as the greatest children’s novel ever written. But Charlotte’s Web doesn’t have a Newbery medal. It was a finalist and it lost to Secret Of The Andes.
I can’t write an entire essay where I pretend that Secret Of The Andes is better than Charlotte’s Web; I finished Secret Of The Andes a week ago and I’ve already forgotten everything that happens in it - I want to say something with llamas? You could tell me what happens in Charlotte’s Web, it’s memorable for a reason. But: can you tell me everything that happens in Charlotte’s Web? Do you remember when Fern’s mother goes to see a psychiatrist to see if she needs to treat her daughter for being able to talk to animals? Oh, you don’t remember that? Do you remember that Fern has the ability to talk to animals, which is suggested to be a supernatural ability that she possesses because she has not yet reached an age where she knows how to be Horny? Do you remember what an insufferable prick Charlotte is, or what a basket case Wilbur is?
The time has come to turn both of the keys simultaneously and unlock my most nuclear Take on children’s literature: Charlotte’s Web is not as good as you remember.
This is not to say that Charlotte’s Web is a bad book: I just read it to my five-year-old before bedtime and she seemed to enjoy it. But it did not deserve the #1 spot in the School Library Journal survey; multiple books I’ve read for this project are better children’s books, and better picks for the #1 spot, than Charlotte’s Web. And part of that is just how inexplicably weird Charlotte’s Web is. Like, A Wrinkle In Time - which could have ended up in the #1 spot and I think SLJ would have been on board with it - has all sorts of weird stuff happen, but it is about intergalactic travel, and you’d kind of expect things to be as weird as they are. But Charlotte’s Web, which you remember as the sweet story of the spider who writes “SOME PIG” in her web to save Wilbur’s life, has a lot of details that you probably forgot.
For one thing, Fern Arable - the eight-year-old girl who saves the runty Wilbur in the first chapter of the novel - can understand all of the talking animals. Most of the conversations in the book are between the farm animals - Wilbur the pig, Charlotte the spider, Templeton the asshole rat, and the geese and sheep and everyone else - but Fern can understand them. She just sits in the barn and listens to them, and then she walks back home and tells her parents what the animals were talking about that day, and as a result, Fern’s mother is worried that Fern is losing her mind. So, in chapter 14, Fern’s mother goes to see Dr. Dorian who, based on his office layout (armchairs) and big bushy beard, is implied to be a psychiatrist:
“Mrs. Arabel fidgeted. ‘Fern says the animals talk to each other. Dr. Dorian, do you believe animals talk?’
‘I never heard one say anything,’ he replied. But that proves nothing. It is quite possible that an animal has spoken civilly to me and that I didn’t catch the remark because I wasn’t paying attention. Children pay better attention than grownups. If Ferns says that the animals in Zuckerman’s barn talk, I’m quite ready to believe her. Perhaps if people talked less, animals would talk more. People are incessant talkers - I can give you my word on that.’”
Mrs. Arabel, like me, has more questions than answers after her psychiatrist tells her “well who the hell knows maybe the pig is actually talking”. But Dr. Dorian keeps asking about Fern’s appetite and sleep habits, and concludes that there’s probably nothing wrong and that this could just be a phase she’s going through. He also asks if Fern has shown any interest in boys (Fern is 8), and Mrs. Arabel says not really, although Fern occasionally hangs out with one of the neighborhood boys, the absurdly named Henry Fussy. Fussy actually comes back later in the story, as Fern rides the Ferris wheel with him at the big state fair where Wilbur wins his ribbon, and this sort-of date is presented - or at least perceived by Mrs. Arable - to be an important rite of passage, one that signals Fern’s entry into womanhood:
“When Mrs. Arable happened to look up into the starry sky and saw her little daughter sitting with Henry Fussy and going higher and higher into the air, and saw how happy Fern looked, she just shook her head. ‘My, my!’ she said. ‘Henry Fussy. Think of that!’”
This is not the pivot point of the plot you actually care about, with Wilbur and Charlotte, but it is still an important pivot point. During the climactic scenes as the Arables and Zuckermans are prepping Wilbur for his final appearance at the state fair, Fern is constantly distracted and hoping she can get another round in the Ferris wheel with Mr. Fussy. In the final chapter of the novel, Fern is still talking about that Ferris wheel ride even though it happened months ago. On the second-to-last page, White, as the narrator, tells us that “Fern did not come regularly to the barn any more [sic]. She was growing up, and was careful to avoid childish things, like sitting on a milk stool near a pigpen.” So, just like Saint Paul, Fern has put away childish things, and has lost her magic animal powers as she learns to become Interested In Boys. So E.B. White3 basically inspired the ending of His Dark Materials.
There’s more in here that is weird. If we’re being honest, neither Charlotte nor Wilbur are great characters, although we do thankfully see some growth from each of them over the course of the novel. Wilbur is a basket case who falls to pieces and is convinced of his own impending death in basically every chapter; eighty percent of Charlotte’s dialogue is telling Wilbur to shut the hell up and stay calm. He does end the novel, after being publicly displayed as “SOME PIG”, “RADIANT”, “TERRIFIC”, and “HUMBLE”, more confident in himself and living free of fear that he will be a bacon platter the next morning. Charlotte, for some reason, has to deliver a vocabulary lesson to start every scene she’s in (‘salutations’, ‘aeronaut’, ‘gullible’, several others), which makes this a great book for classroom read-alouds and a rather grating piece of literature. I would not put this book in the #1 spot. But - but - it probably still has to be in the top 100. The lesson is just too important.
The actual lesson of Charlotte’s Web, of course, comes from Dr. Dorian. Fern’s mother asks him:
“‘Do you understand how there could be any writing in a spider’s web?’
‘Oh no,’ said Dr. Dorian, ‘I don’t understand it. But for that matter, I don’t understand how a spider learned to spin a web in the first place. When the words [SOME PIG] appeared, everyone said they were a miracle. But nobody pointed out that the web itself is a miracle.’”
If you’ve seen the live-action film adaptation of Charlotte’s Web from 2006 - with Steve Buscemi voicing Templeton the rat - you have also heard Sarah McLachlan’s song for the film “Ordinary Miracle”, which proud Canadian McLachlan also performed at the opening ceremonies of the 2006 Olympics in Vancouver. It’s a very good song - I mean, it sounds like every other Sarah McLachlan song, but I like Sarah McLachlan so that’s fine - and it’s worth teaching your children about wonder. It’s worth teaching your children that there are amazing things in front of them, miracles that we can’t ever fully understand, even if we’re just sitting in a barn and watching a spider spin a web. We remember that about Charlotte’s Web, even if it didn’t win the medal, and even if we forget the other weird stuff about the book, and it’s okay, because the wonder is the important thing to remember.
Newburied is a series by Tony Ginocchio on the history of the Newbery Medal and a whole bunch of other stuff related to it. You can subscribe via Substack to get future installments sent to your inbox directly. The next installment will cover the 1933 medalist, Young Fu Of The Upper Yangtze by Elizabeth Foreman Lewis.
A feat that becomes even more impressive when you learn that Jeopardy! usually shoots five episodes in a day.
Which got him an endorsement deal with H&R Block immediately after his game show career stalled.
Who, in addition to Charlotte’s Web, also wrote Stuart Little, of course, but White is also the ‘White’ in ‘Strunk & White’, as in the authors of The Elements Of Style, probably the single most influential American style guide of all time and still, for my money, legitimately great.