Celebrating one of literature’s greatest pessimists

Why Texans throw a birthday party for Eeyore—and everyone else should, too

“YOU SEEM so sad,” says Winnie-the-Pooh to Eeyore. In A.A. Milne’s charming children’s stories—first collected into a book a century ago—the donkey has a gift for finding the cloud in any silver lining. In this particular instance, however, Eeyore is gloomy because it is his birthday and nobody has noticed. Pooh and Piglet try to make amends, but with their usual good-natured incompetence offer subpar presents: a honeypot licked clean of honey and a burst balloon.

Austin, Texas, does not much resemble the Hundred Acre Wood. But since 1964 its inhabitants have been trying to make up for Pooh’s and Piglet’s performance. That year a group of literature students at the University of Texas, searching for an excuse to let off steam before their final exams, decided to throw Eeyore a birthday party. Except for a two-year pause for covid-19, Eeyore has been celebrated ever since, first in a small park, and for the past 52 at the larger Pease District Park.

Friends of the Forest, a group of volunteers, runs the event and “everyone is invited” explains the group’s president, Heather Hampton. Admission is free and the local vendors selling food, craft beer and assorted trinkets keep their proceeds. Any tips volunteers receive are donated to local non-profits; Ms Hampton says that Friends of the Forest has given away more than $280,000 over the years.

Children can get their faces painted and run wild on a playground while their parents listen to live music and—alas—drum circles. People of all ages show up in costumes or tie-dye. At the centre of the park this year was a small fenced area holding a white donkey for children to pet and feed. The creature seemed a good deal happier than his fictional counterpart.

Why should anyone outside Austin care about hippies cheering for a fictional donkey? There are two reasons. First, the event is a reminder that cities, like people, have spirits that persist through superficial changes. Before Austin started attracting tech money and right-leaning celebrities such as the Joes Lonsdale and Rogan, it was a hippie haven. (“Keep Austin Weird” is the city’s unofficial slogan.) Johnny C, a tall man with a white ponytail and beard, has been wishing Eeyore a happy birthday since the late 1970s; he calls the event “an example of the true spirit of Austin, where you can be whoever you want to be.”

Second, the event celebrates the best character Milne ever wrote. (Children being read to may delight in Pooh’s enthusiastic silliness, but their parents appreciate Eeyore’s realism.) It also honours the difficult friend that everyone has, or perhaps is. Eeyore is depressive, anhedonic and pessimistic—but also kind, dogged and loyal. Throwing a party in his honour reminds those attending that sometimes everyone needs a little cheering up. ■