From Battlefields to Bedtime Stories: The Unexpected Origins of Winnie the Pooh

 A.A. Milne wrote The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh after serving in World War I. He had moved to another area of England, settled in, and began writing classical stories after observing his son, Christopher Robin, playing with his stuffed animals. Many of his characters derived directly from the toys that his son enjoyed daily. There is also a casual observational point: Winnie the Pooh was initially named Winnie. The Pooh portion of his name sounds like it could have been derived from the poor smell of the loved bear.  Which, as a parent, is fantastic.

I love facts like this. They humanize the writers who produce these timeless stories. The Hundred Acre Wood, where all the legendary adventures occur, was based on a local park called The Five Hundred Acre Wood. They say write what you know, and A.A. Milne did exactly that.

Many of A.A. Milne's story ideas also came from his observations of his son's imaginative play, only creating Owl independently.  (In some historical articles, it is declared that Rabbit was A.A. Milne's imagination; in others, it is his son's stuffed toys.)

I find it fascinating that if that is the case, and A.A. Milne produced both Rabbit and Owl, he created the iron-rod, practical point characters.

 Rabbit and Owl are not beloved characters from either his original stories or the works that Disney produced from them. 

They are practical, logical, and lack imagination. 

They are focused on the past or focused on production. 

Rabbit has to produce in his garden. It is the sole structure of his character, and most of his battles, internal or external, revolve around his protecting the practical continuation of his food source. 

The irony is that in a magical land where Pooh survives solely on honey, manages nightmares, and deals with floods in a honey pot, he stands out as not only unusual but also highly annoying. 

We are embarking on something in our society called the Fourth Turn. It is a literary example of how culture moves through four turns of what kind of stories an audience is searching for. 

The Fourth Turn, which many regard as the turn we are just now cresting upon, desires hopefulness to reign.

  In the conception of Winnie the Pooh, is this not precisely what the author is attempting to portray here as well? 

Even sandwiched between two world wars, where A.A. Milne had fought alongside brothers in arms, he came home and created stories that were filled with whimsy, hope, and a carefree sense of, "Everything will be okay, as long as I have my friends." 

It is interesting, and I wonder if he was drawn to children's stories to be allowed to create something everlasting. Whenever you visited, a lovable, dim-witted stuffed bear met you, whose only concern was honey and being your friend. 

Winnie the Pooh is timeless. 

It is regarded as the Queen of England's favorite childhood story.

The pull and allure of something simple yet profound, loving yet adventurous, and familiar yet unique appeals to all of us. 

The "if only" feeling is that one day, we could also enter the Hundred Acre Wood, and the day a flood comes, instead of being scary, it is a marvelous adventure alongside your friends that concludes with a cake and a party.  

But isn't that so much of what A.A. Milne must have experienced in the desperation of wartimes?  We survived the day with our friends. Let's have an unexpected cake and celebrate that we're alive.