Response to: E.B. White: “Once More to the Lake”

White begins this passage by recalling yearly-month-long trips with his family to a lake in Maine. He talks of a point in his life when he became sick of salt-water and decided to return, with his son, to the lake of his childhood. As he goes on, White discusses the changes he believes the lake must have gone under since he was a child. While at the lake with his son, the author believes his son to be reenacting White’s time at the lake as a young boy, and, in turn, White is now stepping into the shoes of his own father. E.B. White calls this a “creepy sensation”.  As the text goes on, White finds himself having trouble differentiating whether he embodies more of his father’s characteristics from the past or his own as a child. As the author’s son experiences more of the fun the lake has to offer, White pictures himself as a child participating in each activity. White and son go fishing in an old boat; thereby enhancing White’s feeling “that everything was as it always had been, that the years were a mirage and that there had been no years.” While fishing, E.B. White notices “some of the campers were in swimming”. He sees one with a “cake of soap”, just as there had been in his childhood and states, once again that “there had been no years.” After fishing, the father and son walk back up the road towards the farm house for dinner, where the author realizes that the road looks different from when he was a child. For during his childhood, the road had three tracks, but now, “the middle track was missing, the one with the marks of hooves and the splotches of dried, flaky manure.” Although, soon, the world of White’s childhood is no longer shattered; while at dessert, White comments on the waitresses, for they are “the same country girls, there having been no passage of time.” White goes on addressing many events parallel to his past and ends with an account of his son swimming. He once again, puts himself in his son’s place, for as his son lowers his body into the water, White can’t help but say that his own “groin felt the chill of death.”

Every year, since I was a freshman in high school, I have directed the middle school musical. Doing theatre in seventh and eighth grade are some of my fondest memories from my youth. I always felt that, because I had such a great time, I owed it to the kids that age to make sure they enjoyed the experience as much as I did. Throughout the years, I have learned so much from directing them and have found so many more reasons that I love doing it. But my main reason will never change: watching those students up on stage reminds me of myself at that age. Every time they complain or applaud what they are doing, I can feel myself relate. I remember when I thought the director was stupid and I got so frustrated with the production I wanted to burst, but I also remember the times that I was just so happy to be up there doing what I love with my best friends. Sure, directing takes a lot out of me. Imagine thirty twelve-year-old kids talking over you and giving you all their sass, it’s a mess, but seeing the joy on those faces forces me to remember where my love of theatre began, and I would not trade that for the world.

I am most curious about the son in this essay. I would like to know what he thought of the trip to the lake. Was the lake as impactful in his life as it was in White’s? Did he enjoy his time there? I like to think he did, based on the way E.B. White described him throughout the trip, but you never know what was going on within his mind. I think it would be extremely interesting to hear the son’s account. I would also like to question White’s emotional feelings about the lake. Was he sad to see his childhood so far behind him? Or was he just happy to be sharing something he loved with his son?