Longevity is not necessarily a good thing. My mother lived to be 101, and if her experience of aging forecasts mine (dementia, physical disability, years in a nursing home), I don’t want anything to do with it.
Nowadays we have new terminology to help us think about this issue: rather than enduring a longer lifespan, we should strive for a longer “health span.”
Besides adding more healthy years, a longer health span offers more meaning and purpose in our final years. Writer and philosopher Alain de Botton puts it this way: ideally, we want to “ensure that whatever years remain feel appropriately substantial. The aim should be to densify time rather than to extract one or two more years from the grip of Death” (A More Exacting Life, 2021).
For Botton, densifying time means paying attention and living more consciously.
For me, it also means embracing the bittersweet.
Happy and Sad
Bittersweetness is a complex mix of feelings held at the same time: happiness, sadness, gratitude, regret, fulfillment, longing. Far from confusion, it is a sign of emotional maturity and depth, in the words of author Susan Cain, “an authentic and elevating response to the problem of being alive in a deeply flawed yet stubbornly beautiful world” (Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make us Whole, 2022).
Bittersweetness is also known as poignancy, which developmental psychologist Laura Carstensen believes is the richest feeling human beings can experience.
Although it can come upon us at any time, the feeling of bittersweetness is more prominent in later life. This is because an “intense awareness of passing time” is the hallmark of bittersweetness, according to Cain. And one of the main developmental tasks of aging is learning to accept and ultimately transcend the “pain of impermanence.”
When we are sensitive to the bittersweet, we become better citizens of the world. This “pro-social” emotion helps us feel more connected and compassionate toward others. It is a unifying force that reminds us how vulnerable we are and how precious and fleeting life is. We are all connected in this, and we need each other to navigate this uncertain world.
Cain’s main point is worth pondering: “Living in a bittersweet state, with an intense awareness of life’s fragility and the pain of separation, is an underappreciated strength and an unexpected path to wisdom, joy, and especially communion.”
Artists and musicians throughout the ages have drawn on this wisdom, as does great literature. For anyone wishing to experience the bittersweet state, I can recommend one book in particular. I have read it many times and watched multiple movie versions of it. Whenever I need a shot of inspiration, I take it off the shelf and enjoy it all over again.
You may be surprised to know that it is a children’s book about life and death.
Coming and Going
I am not the only person who holds E. B. White’s Charlotte’s Web in the highest regard. Since originally published in 1952, it has become a classic in children’s literature, translated into 34 languages and beloved the world over. It is the best-selling children’s book in U.S. history, outselling even Winnie-the-Pooh, and better known than Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn.
When White first presented Charlotte’s Web to his editors in manuscript form, they thought it was too dark and encouraged him to revise its language and theme. White, however, would not change the story. He once said he would rather not publish at all than write a book that did not respect the intelligence and sensitivity of children. For him, a great children’s book, though fantasy, also had to remain true to life.
At its core, Charlotte’s Web is about the sweetness of life in the shadow of death.
A runt pig named Wilbur faces the farmer’s ax unless his friends, an eight-year-old girl named Fern and a spider named Charlotte, can somehow save his life.
They have only a few precious months, from spring to fall, to accomplish this task. Otherwise, Wilbur will be fattened for the slaughter. Cheerful and innocent, the little pig is oblivious to his fate.
Throughout the book, White balances melancholy and joy. The barnyard characters speak of trouble and death while Wilbur frolics in the sun. All of life on the farm tells the bittersweet story of beginnings and endings.
As White’s biographer Michael Sims explains, “besides mortality itself, throughout many idyllic scenes [White] dabbed colorful spots of melancholy. He translated the song sparrow’s aria as ‘sweet, sweet interlude’ and informed the reader that it referred to life’s brevity. Crickets harped on the same theme” (The Story of Charlotte’s Web: E.B. White’s Eccentric Life in Nature and the Birth of an American Classic, 2011).
Always the humorist, White himself wryly described the book as “a paen to life, a hymn to the barn, and an acceptance of dung.”
Even the friendship between Wilbur and Charlotte is tempered by loss. We are told that Charlotte is an Aranea cavatica, a barn spider that lives only one year, lays its eggs in October, and dies shortly after. This means she has only the spring and summer months to spin a web of words that will encourage others to see Wilbur in a different light.
Where’s the Inspiration in That?
In case you haven’t read the book, I won’t tell you how it ends, but I will say that Charlotte’s web becomes a sensation, and so does Wilbur.
In her review of Charlotte’s Web, published in a 1952 issue of the New York Times Book Review, the great novelist Eudora Welty praised the book for its universal themes, recognizable to us all: “What the book is about is friendship on earth, affection and protection, adventure and miracle, life and death, trust and treachery, pleasure and pain, and the passing of time.” She declared it perfect for readers of any age – “over eight and under eighty.”
White was right in honoring his instincts and crafting the book exactly as he did. Because of its enduring appeal and timeless message, Charlotte’s Web has become a standard part of elementary school curricula in America. Grief counselors around the world have recommended the book to help over three generations of children cope with the death of a loved one.
While I was born in 1954, two years after the release of Charlotte’s Web, I do not remember reading it as a child. Somehow, I did not discover the book until later as an adult. But I’m so glad I did!
As I approach the age of 70, I find Charlotte’s Web more appealing than ever. Beautifully written and illustrated, it is a timeless work of art, to be sure. But, as Sims notes, the book also demonstrates, with tender affection, a central truth I desperately need to hold onto: “although death may be inevitable, so is the next round of living creatures.” With new life comes hope for a better future. For those of us on the tail end of the old life, all we must do is remember to “revel in the moment.”
Which makes Charlotte’s Web a perfect example of how to densify time — and savor the bitter with the sweet.
Written by: Ruth Ray Karpen
Ruth Ray Karpen is a retired English professor who now works as a freelance researcher and writer. She has published many books and articles on aging and old age, life story writing, and retirement. She also volunteers for a local animal shelter. In our series on Heart and Soul, she explores how later life, including the end of life, offers unique opportunities for emotional and spiritual growth.
On behalf of Smart Strategies for Successful Living, our sincerest appreciation goes to Ruth Ray Karpen for her contribution to the heart and soul of living and aging.
