"A writer is like a bean plant - he has his little day, and then gets stringy"
About this Quote
E. B. White lands the punch with the kind of homespun cruelty that sounds like a compliment until you realize it isnt. Comparing a writer to a bean plant takes the romance out of authorship and replaces it with a garden fact: growth is quick, usefulness is brief, decline is inevitable. The line works because it collapses literary ambition into a seasonal cycle. No pedestal, no immortality, just a living thing that briefly produces something tender before turning fibrous.
The specific intent is deflation. White, a master of plain style and quiet satire, needles the vanity that clings to writing careers: the belief that talent is a permanent state, that relevance can be stored like canned goods. By choosing a bean plant, he makes the lifecycle both mundane and intimate, something anyone who has overgrown vegetables can picture. "Little day" is doing double duty: it suggests both a burst of glory and the smallness of that glory in the grand timeline. Then comes "stringy", a word you can taste. It implies not just aging, but diminished pleasure for the consumer; the work may still exist, but it no longer goes down easy.
The subtext is also self-directed. White belonged to a generation that watched reputations rise and harden, and he worked inside the churn of magazines, where freshness is currency and yesterday's voice can sound like leftover newsprint. The joke masks a sober warning: keep pruning, keep harvesting, dont confuse productivity with permanence. Writing, for White, isnt an eternity machine; its a perishable crop.
The specific intent is deflation. White, a master of plain style and quiet satire, needles the vanity that clings to writing careers: the belief that talent is a permanent state, that relevance can be stored like canned goods. By choosing a bean plant, he makes the lifecycle both mundane and intimate, something anyone who has overgrown vegetables can picture. "Little day" is doing double duty: it suggests both a burst of glory and the smallness of that glory in the grand timeline. Then comes "stringy", a word you can taste. It implies not just aging, but diminished pleasure for the consumer; the work may still exist, but it no longer goes down easy.
The subtext is also self-directed. White belonged to a generation that watched reputations rise and harden, and he worked inside the churn of magazines, where freshness is currency and yesterday's voice can sound like leftover newsprint. The joke masks a sober warning: keep pruning, keep harvesting, dont confuse productivity with permanence. Writing, for White, isnt an eternity machine; its a perishable crop.
Quote Details
| Topic | Witty One-Liners |
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