Why the boy for whom his father wrote "Winnie-the-Pooh" hated this book

However, the one who inspired its creation — his own son — admitted in a BBC interview that he wanted to "run away when someone brings it up."

“Pooh, promise you won’t ever forget me. Not ever, even when I’m a hundred.”

These words, full of endearment and sadness, are spoken by Christopher Robin to his teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh in the last chapter of the book.

British prose writer and playwright A. A. Milne needn't have worried. The first book about Winnie-the-Pooh was published 100 years ago, in October 1926, and introduced readers to characters whose prototypes were the author's son and his toys: the touchingly clumsy bear Pooh, the timid Piglet, the hyperactive Tigger, and the pessimistic Eeyore.

These characters were not only not forgotten — over the past century, they have gone far beyond the borders of their idyllic home, the Hundred Acre Wood, and lived a life of their own, a separate life.

Since 1966, they have become heroes of animated and live-action films by Disney studios, as well as part of a media universe that today is one of the highest-grossing media franchises in history.

In Poland, Winnie-the-Pooh even found himself at the center of a scandal due to accusations of "unacceptability." He became the subject of memes mocking Chinese President Xi Jinping, and also spawned ironic theories in pop culture, according to which the inhabitants of the Hundred Acre Wood were "diagnosed" with various psychological disorders.

However, in reality, the appearance of Winnie-the-Pooh and the subsequent success of the books about him became a difficult ordeal for Milne's son, who appears in them under the name Christopher Robin.

In 1976, on the BBC program Desert Island Discs, he recounted that he was "delighted and felt proud" when the books first came out. But later, as he grew a little older, the joy of being associated with Winnie-the-Pooh "began to fade."

Over time, he developed a sharp dissatisfaction that his father used their childhood games in his work — the very games they played in Ashdown Forest in East Sussex, England. This very forest became the prototype for the Hundred Acre Wood.

“It seemed to me as if my father achieved his success by climbing on the shoulders of a small child — me. As if he stole my good name, leaving me only the empty fame of 'the son of that very Milne' in return,” Christopher wrote in his memoirs "The Enchanted Places," published in 1974.

As shown in the 2017 film "Goodbye Christopher Robin," his childhood was not as carefree as depicted in Milne's books.

“In those days, children like me were raised by nannies. And, in essence, my entire childhood — up to the age of ten — was spent under the care of a nanny,” he said in a BBC interview in 1971.

He admitted that in his early childhood he barely knew his parents.

“Both my father and mother kept quite distant, at least until I was about nine years old... I only saw them at specific times of the day.”

He also noted that the books were not intended for him: “[My father] wasn't interested in me. He wrote for himself.”

Shyness and Jealousy

In his memoirs, Christopher Milne recalled how a journalist told his father that his books "show a deep understanding of children and love for them." To this, A. A. Milne replied: "I can't say that I love them that much... and certainly never felt any sentimentality towards them."

In the same interview, when asked how fame had affected his son, A. A. Milne — more slowly now — said he hoped: "it hasn't harmed him."

Павялічыць

This hope was not fully realized. In his memoirs, Christopher explained: "Unfortunately, the fictional Christopher Robin refused to die, and Christopher himself — his real-life prototype — did not always have a good relationship with the character."

During his school years, this connection to the literary character became a "painful spot that seemed like it would never heal" for him — all due to his extreme, paralyzing shyness.

Later, when Christopher became an adult and tried to find work, additional problems arose due to jealousy.

Although it seemed that his father achieved success purely through his own efforts, Christopher wondered: "Was it really only his own? Didn't I also contribute to this success?"

He desperately tried to escape being forever associated with Christopher Robin.

The owner of the house where his childhood took place and where the events of the Winnie-the-Pooh stories unfolded told the BBC in 2002 that he had invited Christopher to visit several decades earlier.

“In response, he sent a rather unpleasant letter stating that nothing would make him cross the threshold of that house again.”

In 1979, Christopher indeed returned to Ashdown Forest to play "Poohsticks" — a game he played in childhood and which became famous thanks to the books.

However, eight years later — after he had helped the local council purchase the forest to preserve it — Christopher still admitted that fame as "the boy with the bear" had become a burden for him. He said he coped with it "primarily by avoiding such conversations and running away when people brought up the topic."

Reconciliation

Nevertheless, towards the end of his life, Christopher reconciled with his father's work, but not with the discomfort that unwanted fame brought him.

“Ultimately, he accepted the fact that his father was genuinely attached to him and couldn't even imagine what would happen later,” Ann Thwaite, A. A. Milne's biographer, said in a 2002 BBC interview.

Christopher understood: the Winnie-the-Pooh books were probably his father's way of bridging the chasm that existed between them in the early years — an opportunity to express what he couldn't say otherwise.

“My father's heart remained buttoned up throughout his life,” Christopher wrote in his memoirs. “He had deep feelings but kept them to himself — or, being a writer, gave them an outlet in his works. However, even there he masked them… And so, dressed in a jester's cap with rattles, they appeared in the image of Eeyore the donkey.”

Christopher acknowledged that he began to perceive Winnie-the-Pooh as a way his father tried to find common ground with him.

“Today people sometimes tell me: 'How lucky you are to have such a wonderful father!' — assuming that if he wrote about me with such love and understanding, then he must have also played with me with the same love and understanding.”

However, as Christopher wrote: “My father was a creative person, and precisely because he couldn't play with his little son, his desire for closeness found an outlet elsewhere — he began to write about him.”

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