I read this book as a child and found it magical. I read it again to our children and loved it just as much. I will say the ending it heart-rending, however.
But this time, although I expected the same magic, I didn't feel it.
I hate to say it, but maybe I'm too old...?
It's hard for me to try to suspend disbelief and imagine non-humans as sentient. I love Toy Story, but it only works if the toys are alive in Andy's imagination. If they are truly sentient, the ramifications are too horrifying to contemplate.
I wanted Wilbur and Charlotte and Templeton to be alive in Fern's imagination. But not only does the book disallow that entirely, Fern loses interest in the whole animal world when she meets a boy!
I realize it's a children's story exploring themes of friendship and sacrifice. White nicely contrasts Templeton, who never learns to look beyond his own selfish appetites, and Charlotte, who sacrifices all for Wilbur. The pig, himself, grows a bit as he realizes he just might be who Charlotte has always seen him as. All very human. But if real for a single moment, I am a mass murderer of hundreds of other Charlottes found lurking in my home.
I hate to be a spoiler of magic, but I just couldn't feel it this time.
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