The Wind in the Willows follows the lives of four animal friends as they explore the river and the woods where they live. For the three who live on the riverbank—Mole, Rat, and Toad—the river itself is a source of endless entertainment, awe, beauty, and even quasi-religious experiences. And for Badger, who as a larger animal can live safely in the heart of the nearby Wild Wood, the entire landscape surrounding the river is akin to a playground. In this way, the novel frames nature as something fulfilling and protective—it’s a source of beauty, comfort, and amusement. In contrast, Toad’s love of driving (and crashing) cars represents modern industrialized society’s destructiveness and ugliness—and the novel ends with Toad giving up cars and settling down to be a gracious country gentleman at Toad Hall. The Wind in the Willows thus suggests that leisurely enjoying the natural world is far more fulfilling than indulging in the dangerous, fast-paced trappings of modern society.
From the beginning, The Wind in the Willows frames nature as containing everything a person (or animal) needs to live, happy and fulfilled. Much of the novel takes place outdoors, on the river where Mole, Rat, and Toad live. As Rat explains to Mole when they first meet, the river has everything he needs—it gives him entertainment, food, and even a place to do his laundry. In addition, Rat tells Mole that the “Wide World” (that is, the world beyond the riverbank and the Wild Wood) isn’t worth paying any attention to—suggesting that Rat and his neighbors need nothing but the natural playground that surrounds them. Rat’s belief that the natural world offers far more fun and fulfillment than anything else is best encapsulated in one of the novel’s most famous lines: “there is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” With this, Rat acknowledges that there are, of course, other things he could spend his time on. But what matters most to him, and what the novel suggests is most important, is being out in nature and enjoying all it has to offer.
The natural world is also framed as almost a living being or a spiritual presence that’s awe-inspiring and worthy of respect. Rat and Mole in particular often hear the wind whispering and singing to them, which gives nature some human qualities. And at one point, Otter’s young son, Portly, goes missing, and the adult animals all fear for the child’s safety. But Mole and Rat eventually find Portly asleep, with the demigod Pan (a Greek god of nature and animals), whom the novel refers to as the “Friend and Protector,” watching over the young otter. Pan is essentially nature personified, and the implication of this mystical experience is clear: nature will protect those who appreciate it, as Rat and Mole do. But on the other hand, nature is sometimes awe-inspiring in a darker way, as when Mole gets stuck in the Wild Wood in the middle of a blizzard. Nature can be delightful—but it’s also something that beings should respect and not try to outsmart or ignore.
By contrast, the ugly, industrialized modern world—which in the novel is symbolized by cars—threatens the untainted natural world and idyllic way of life that Rat and his friends love. From the start, the novel frames cars as violent and threatening. Toad, Mole, and Rat first encounter a car when they’re out walking with Toad’s caravan, and the car rushes up behind them so fast and so loudly that the horse pulling the caravan dumps the cart in the ditch, seriously damaging it. The whole experience is described as frightening, and for Rat—who instructs Toad to file a complaint against the driver for reckless driving—the car is nothing but a menace. Toad, on the other hand, is immediately taken in by cars—that is, he’s tempted and intoxicated by the supposed delights that the fast-paced modern world offers. But Toad’s friends all insist that this is a mistake for a host of reasons: Toad’s love of cars puts him in situations where he threatens people’s safety, cars are noisy and disruptive to the happy sounds of nature (like the titular “wind in the willows”), and focusing so much on cars means that Toad cares little for his friends and his home. Cars—and the modern world they represent—essentially cause Toad to be selfish and to devalue or forget everything else that the novel suggests is more important or worthy of his attention.
Ultimately, then, the novel suggests that it’s necessary to reject the dangerous modern world and focus instead on nature. It’s significant that the novel’s happy ending only comes when Toad finally promises to give up cars and also to be more modest and generous to other people and animals. These two shifts are linked: Toad’s conceit and self-centeredness are, per the logic of the novel, what lead him to adore cars in the first place—so, giving up cars means he becomes a humbler and more generous toad. After Toad’s transformation, all four friends are able to live in “great joy and contentment” together as they take strolls through the Wild Wood and enjoy the natural landscape. This suggests that the trappings of the modern world can be dangerous and corrupting (as they were for Toad), and that a more pastoral way of life is healthier and more fulfilling.
The Wind in the Willows is certainly a product of its time—when it was published in 1908, cars were still relatively new. Still, despite how much the world has changed and how industrialized it has become in the last century, the novel’s message still holds true: nature can offer a peaceful, awe-inspiring reprieve from the fast-paced modern world.
Nature, Leisure, and the Modern World ThemeTracker
Nature, Leisure, and the Modern World Quotes in The Wind in the Willows
“Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. […]
“In or out of ‘em, it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that’s the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don’t; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you’re always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you’ve done it there’s always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you’d much better not.”
“What dust clouds shall spring up behind me as I speed on my reckless way! What carts I shall fling carelessly into the ditch in the wake of my magnificent onset! Horrid little carts—common carts—canary-coloured carts!”
There was plenty to talk about on those short winter days when the animals found themselves round the fire; still, the Mole had a good deal of spare time on his hands, and so one afternoon, when the Rat in his armchair before the blaze was alternately dozing and trying over rhymes that wouldn’t fit, he formed the resolution to go out by himself and explore the Wild Wood, and perhaps strike up and acquaintance with Mr Badger.
His two friends assented, quite understanding his point. No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.
He was now in just the frame of mind that the tactful Rat had quietly worked to bring about in him. He saw clearly how plain and simple—how narrow, even—it all was; but clearly, too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such anchorage in one’s existence. He did not at all want to abandon his new life and its splendid spaces […] But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted on for the same simple welcome.
“Toad, I want you solemnly to repeat, before your friends here, what you fully admitted to me in the smoking-room just now. First, you are sorry for what you’ve done, and you see the folly of it all?”
There was a long, long pause. Toad looked desperately this way and that, while the other animals waited in grave silence. At last, he spoke.
“No!” he said, a little sullenly, but stoutly; “I’m not sorry. And it wasn’t folly at all! It was simply glorious!”
Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him, an awe that turned his muscles to water, bowed his head, and rooted his feet to the ground. It was no panic terror—he felt wonderfully at peace and happy—but it was an awe that smote and held him and, without seeing, he knew it could only mean that some august Presence was very, very near.
Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns […]
[…] “I’ve no doubt you’ll go bravely, and face all the trouble and discomfort and change and newness, and make believe that you’re not very unhappy. But to want to talk about it, or even think about it, till you really need—”
“No, you don’t understand, naturally,” said the second swallow. “First, we feel it stirring within us, a sweet unrest; then back come the recollections one like one, like homing pigeons.”
It is all very well, when you have a light heart, and a clear conscience, and money in your pocket, and nobody scouring the country for you to drag you off to prison again, to follow where the road beckons and points, not caring whither. The practical Toad cared very much indeed, and he could have kicked the road for its helpless silence when every minute was of importance to him.
“Now, Toady, I don’t want to give you pain, after all you’ve been through already; but, seriously, don’t you see what an awful ass you’ve been making of yourself? On your own admission you have been handcuffed, imprisoned, starved, chased, terrified out of your life, insulted, jeered at, and ignominiously flung into the water—by a woman, too! Where’s the amusement in that? Where does the fun come in? And all because you must needs go and steal a motor car.”