Still here. My computer was broken for a while so I'm a little late with my self-imposed tasks here. I actually finished this post at the beginning of Jan. Actually, I wrote two of them, but I can't get the pictures to post on the bird journal. That's right - I kept a bird journal and it was frigging exciting. That post was supposed to come before this one. While I figure that out, here's something completely different (cartoon watchers about my age will note the plagiarism):
Two modern critics of Thoreau's Walden first:
"Granted, it is sometimes difficult to deal with society. Few things will thwart your plans to live deliberately faster than those messy, confounding surprises known as other people. Likewise, few things will thwart your absolute autonomy faster than governance, and not only when the government is unjust; every law is a parameter, a constraint on what we might otherwise do. Teen-agers, too, strain and squirm against any checks on their liberty. But the mature position, and the one at the heart of the American democracy, seeks a balance between the individual and the society. Thoreau lived out that complicated balance; the pity is that he forsook it, together with all fellow-feeling, in “Walden.” And yet we made a classic of the book, and a moral paragon of its author—a man whose deepest desire and signature act was to turn his back on the rest of us." Kathryn Schulz, October 19, 2015
"And he himself is difficult. To my mind the better question to ask about Thoreau isn’t why we love him, because most of us don’t. Most of us ignore him, and a large number of those who pay him any mind seem to loathe him, or find him ridiculous. At the high school where I once taught American literature, Walden is no longer on the syllabus, nor is Gatsby, for that matter, and although the sample-size is unscientific, as best I can recall, not one of the adolescent New Yorkers I forced Walden on cottoned to it. The better question, or at least the harder one for me, is why it is that ever since his untimely death in 1862 we’ve been having this same argument. Saint or fraud, idol or arrogant prick: why do we seem to need him to be one or the other?" Donovan Hohn - New Republic, October 21, 2015
My sophisticated answer to Schulz and Hohn is "Yeah, well, I love him." Sure, he and a friend almost accidentally burned their town, Concord, down once. And maybe some who knew him thought he was smug, self-righteous and inconsistent -- as if Plato, Jesus, likely the two quoted authors and, probably all of us haven't been accused of those things at one time or another. He was also, at turns, joyous, a wonderful friend and family member, determined, pragmatic and scientific, outspoken against oppression and an apostle of freedom and nature. He wrote very consistently. But he wrote a lot, pretty much every day as an adult, and that means sometimes he was inconsistent. It is easy to criticize, and easier still to criticize the opinions of those who bare their souls, as Thoreau did. I tried to raise my daughter to understand that people usually judge you according to their own interests and insecurities and not to give it undue consideration. I actually think she got it, which is very satisfying to me as a parent. Thoreau did his best to live by it, but, you don't have to read much of him to know it is impossible to avoid entirely. If he could fail at it, I don't feel bad about it either.
The question shouldn't be whether kids know who Thoreau was today or if he is read anymore. The questions are 1) whether he was a remarkable writer and 2) whether those kids and the rest of us live in a better world to some degree because of him - whether we know him or not. He had the same faults, insecurities and worries as does all humanity. Ms. Schultz is wrong that his deepest desire was to turn his back on people - who did she think he was writing for? But, he also had enough good qualities and accomplishments for five of us and like most people in this world, was largely misunderstood by everyone else. I've defended and criticized him before several times, but that's not today's mission - it's just to give you some of the best of Walden.
Walden; or, Life in the Woods, arguably Thoreau's greatest work and certainly his most famous, details a little over his two years in a cabin in the woods on the shores of Lake Walden, in Concord, Massachusetts. It was published in 1854. In 1948, B. F. Skinner, a psychologist, published Walden Two, a novel about a utopian community based, in part, on Thoreau's book. Google it if you want more details about him (don't bother reading it, in my opinion - I did it for you). I just derived the title to the post from his book and feel the need to tell you.
But, this post is neither a memoir, like Walden, or a novel, like Walden Two, but is carved out from my collection of verbatim quotes I've typed out from Walden, a book I often have had open on a table the way Thoreau had Homer open. I've taken what I have thought were its most interesting tidbits and then roughly cut it in half (for your sake, not mine). Why do I love him so much? Maybe because I find myself more often in agreement with him (though often not) than with other writers/philosophers or recognize my own life journey in what he wrote. Maybe it is because he writes so well, that I'd admire him if I disagreed with everything he wrote in the same way I love Wagner's music though he was a despicable cuss. Definitely not because I was named (in part, at least) for him.
I made his quotes larger than my comments, so, God-forbid, you don't confuse them and I bolded the most famous bits of his. My priceless and irreplaceable comments that will no doubt have Henry David spinning in his grave, are also in italics:
Two modern critics of Thoreau's Walden first:
"Granted, it is sometimes difficult to deal with society. Few things will thwart your plans to live deliberately faster than those messy, confounding surprises known as other people. Likewise, few things will thwart your absolute autonomy faster than governance, and not only when the government is unjust; every law is a parameter, a constraint on what we might otherwise do. Teen-agers, too, strain and squirm against any checks on their liberty. But the mature position, and the one at the heart of the American democracy, seeks a balance between the individual and the society. Thoreau lived out that complicated balance; the pity is that he forsook it, together with all fellow-feeling, in “Walden.” And yet we made a classic of the book, and a moral paragon of its author—a man whose deepest desire and signature act was to turn his back on the rest of us." Kathryn Schulz, October 19, 2015
"And he himself is difficult. To my mind the better question to ask about Thoreau isn’t why we love him, because most of us don’t. Most of us ignore him, and a large number of those who pay him any mind seem to loathe him, or find him ridiculous. At the high school where I once taught American literature, Walden is no longer on the syllabus, nor is Gatsby, for that matter, and although the sample-size is unscientific, as best I can recall, not one of the adolescent New Yorkers I forced Walden on cottoned to it. The better question, or at least the harder one for me, is why it is that ever since his untimely death in 1862 we’ve been having this same argument. Saint or fraud, idol or arrogant prick: why do we seem to need him to be one or the other?" Donovan Hohn - New Republic, October 21, 2015
My sophisticated answer to Schulz and Hohn is "Yeah, well, I love him." Sure, he and a friend almost accidentally burned their town, Concord, down once. And maybe some who knew him thought he was smug, self-righteous and inconsistent -- as if Plato, Jesus, likely the two quoted authors and, probably all of us haven't been accused of those things at one time or another. He was also, at turns, joyous, a wonderful friend and family member, determined, pragmatic and scientific, outspoken against oppression and an apostle of freedom and nature. He wrote very consistently. But he wrote a lot, pretty much every day as an adult, and that means sometimes he was inconsistent. It is easy to criticize, and easier still to criticize the opinions of those who bare their souls, as Thoreau did. I tried to raise my daughter to understand that people usually judge you according to their own interests and insecurities and not to give it undue consideration. I actually think she got it, which is very satisfying to me as a parent. Thoreau did his best to live by it, but, you don't have to read much of him to know it is impossible to avoid entirely. If he could fail at it, I don't feel bad about it either.
The question shouldn't be whether kids know who Thoreau was today or if he is read anymore. The questions are 1) whether he was a remarkable writer and 2) whether those kids and the rest of us live in a better world to some degree because of him - whether we know him or not. He had the same faults, insecurities and worries as does all humanity. Ms. Schultz is wrong that his deepest desire was to turn his back on people - who did she think he was writing for? But, he also had enough good qualities and accomplishments for five of us and like most people in this world, was largely misunderstood by everyone else. I've defended and criticized him before several times, but that's not today's mission - it's just to give you some of the best of Walden.
Walden; or, Life in the Woods, arguably Thoreau's greatest work and certainly his most famous, details a little over his two years in a cabin in the woods on the shores of Lake Walden, in Concord, Massachusetts. It was published in 1854. In 1948, B. F. Skinner, a psychologist, published Walden Two, a novel about a utopian community based, in part, on Thoreau's book. Google it if you want more details about him (don't bother reading it, in my opinion - I did it for you). I just derived the title to the post from his book and feel the need to tell you.
But, this post is neither a memoir, like Walden, or a novel, like Walden Two, but is carved out from my collection of verbatim quotes I've typed out from Walden, a book I often have had open on a table the way Thoreau had Homer open. I've taken what I have thought were its most interesting tidbits and then roughly cut it in half (for your sake, not mine). Why do I love him so much? Maybe because I find myself more often in agreement with him (though often not) than with other writers/philosophers or recognize my own life journey in what he wrote. Maybe it is because he writes so well, that I'd admire him if I disagreed with everything he wrote in the same way I love Wagner's music though he was a despicable cuss. Definitely not because I was named (in part, at least) for him.
I made his quotes larger than my comments, so, God-forbid, you don't confuse them and I bolded the most famous bits of his. My priceless and irreplaceable comments that will no doubt have Henry David spinning in his grave, are also in italics:
I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well. I agree with the proposition that everything original we write is at least minimally autobiographical. If nothing else, it is telling of our interests or aspirations. There's no reason to leave out the "I think" when writing, except, if you prefer, stylistically. But, even then, people kid themselves in believing that by leaving out "I think," it is somehow not their opinion.This blog mine is subtitled What I am Thinking About, and I make no pretension it is anything else.
The twelve labors of Hercules were trifling in comparison with those which my neighbors have undertaken; for they were only twelve, and had an end; but I could never see that these men slew or captured any monster or finished any labor. They have no friend Iolaus to burn with a hot iron the root of the hydra’s head, but as soon as one head is crushed, two spring up. The neighbors he speaks of were mostly farmers and he thought they worked too hard for too little satisfaction. I am not against hard work or achievements (although my evalovin' gf would be rolling on the floor laughing if she read that).My life is very easy because advancement and achievement has been sought after by many people, most often in search of profit, over centuries and I and many others have access to the fruits of it. But, I am against mindless work we do not enjoy that we do to buy things we don't really need and which too many people try to substitute for virtue or happiness. Although my own work decisions earn me some criticism (there is praise too, but rarely ever in public) I just stopped accepting one day that I must work away as hard as I could at something I didn't want to do so much, simply because it had been my chosen profession and it is customary where I live to do so until one is wealthy enough (or supported enough by someone else) to stop. I wish I had come to this conclusion younger. There's time for both in life and I did choose the responsibility of working full time while raising my daughter over more free time until she was in college. Even Thoreau worked at various jobs, like helping with his family's pencil business, surveying and generally handy-man jobs. It was a necessity for him, though between his family and the Emersons, he never really lacked for a place to stay or something to eat. Thoreau did not live long. I have often said to my leading friendly critic that I hope I die young, so he will be forced to acknowledge that I had a good plan after all. Relax, I'm kidding him, though if I live long and don't win lotto, my plan will not likely seem such a good idea to most people. I guess I will find out what I think when I get there.
Aside from the above, just saying that Michael Hurst's fiery and fun-loving performance as Hercules' friend Iolaus in Hercules: The Legendary Adventures in the 1990s tv show filmed in New Zealand was better than the mythological character probably deserved. Hurst was the best part of that hokey, ridiculous, but fun show.
*
Granted that the majority are able at last either to own or hire the modern house with all its improvements. While civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. It has created palaces, but it was so easy to create noblemen and kings. And if the civilized man's pursuits are no worthier than the savage's, if he is employed the greater part of his life in obtaining gross necessaries and comforts merely, why should he have a better dwelling than the former? (the italics are his).
I think the answer to that question is that enlightenment values and the continuous improvement of science and technology over time has provided the better dwelling and most everything else -- including the general morality of the men who inhabit these houses. It has been shown recently on what I think are pretty solid arguments, that on the whole, we live in a far more peaceful, more successful world than we have ever before in history despite the horrors and sad lives that still exist for many people. Perhaps we are worthier, whatever our faults, and maybe living in modern houses with all of its conveniences has helped.
Aside from the above, just saying that Michael Hurst's fiery and fun-loving performance as Hercules' friend Iolaus in Hercules: The Legendary Adventures in the 1990s tv show filmed in New Zealand was better than the mythological character probably deserved. Hurst was the best part of that hokey, ridiculous, but fun show.
*
Granted that the majority are able at last either to own or hire the modern house with all its improvements. While civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. It has created palaces, but it was so easy to create noblemen and kings. And if the civilized man's pursuits are no worthier than the savage's, if he is employed the greater part of his life in obtaining gross necessaries and comforts merely, why should he have a better dwelling than the former? (the italics are his).
I think the answer to that question is that enlightenment values and the continuous improvement of science and technology over time has provided the better dwelling and most everything else -- including the general morality of the men who inhabit these houses. It has been shown recently on what I think are pretty solid arguments, that on the whole, we live in a far more peaceful, more successful world than we have ever before in history despite the horrors and sad lives that still exist for many people. Perhaps we are worthier, whatever our faults, and maybe living in modern houses with all of its conveniences has helped.
*
Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate. . . .The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. Is resignation confirmed desperation? Maybe, but maybe it is also a very good thing. I'd rather have someone who resigns himself to his work to someone beating himself up because he made wrong choices and not doing anything. It all comes down to the circumstances. But, Thoreau is not wrong either. Many people I know seek conformance to custom or some attachment over happiness. Some, maybe most or all, are desperate and resigned. This is not the post to discuss whether they choose it or are predisposed to it. For myself, I believe my better qualities are chosen, worked on while young until they became habit, and hung onto thereafter. I said "I believe." Could be wrong.
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*
It is never too late to give up our prejudices. No way of thinking or doing, however, ancient, can be trusted without proof. What everybody echoes or in silence passes by as true today may turn out to be falsehood tomorrow, mere smoke of opinion, which some had trusted for a cloud that would sprinkle fertilizing rain on their fields. What old people say you cannot do you try and find that you can. Old deeds for old people, and new deeds for new. Old people did not know enough once, perchance, to fetch fresh fuel to keep the fire a-going; new people put a little dry wood under a pot, and are whirled round the globe with the speed of birds, in a way to kill old people, as the phrase is. Age is no better, hardly so well, qualified for an instructor as youth, for it has not profited so much as it has lost. One may almost doubt if the wisest man has learned anything of absolute value by living. Practically, the old have no very important advice to give the young, their own experience has been so partial, and their lives have been such miserable failures for private reasons, as they must believe; and it may be that they have some faith left which belies that experience, and they are only less young than they were. I have lived some thirty years on this planet, and I have yet to hear the first syllable of valuable or even earnest advice from my seniors. They have told me nothing, and probably cannot tell me anything to the purpose. Here is life, and experiment to a great extent untried by me; but it does not avail me that they have tried it. If I have any experience which I think valuable, I am sure to reflect that this my Mentors said nothing about. I am much less cynical than Mr. Thoreau about experience. He seems to think he is purely original and that the experience of others brought nothing of note to him. He was original and to some degree unique, but not purely - hardly so. In fact, he had the benefit of not only a Harvard education, which even then was something, read others omnivorously, and had the example and mentoring of Mr. Emerson, who he slavishly imitated before outgrowing. He benefitted from all of this enormously. In fact, though he surpassed him in my view, no Emerson, likely no Thoreau in the manner we know him. But, still, he is not entirely wrong either. More people do things because it is the custom or habit of others to do so. I have repeatedly found throughout my life that when I did something because it made sense to me, but diverged from convention, that others found it provocative and difficult to understand. Even where they saw good results, many just wanted me to do what everyone else did. And I've often noted to friends that though I conform to 99 plus percent of life's customary behaviors, that 1% drives people crazy. I would reform Thoreau this way - "Listen to your elders, but think."
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Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. With respect to luxuries and comforts, the wisest have ever lived a more simple and meager life than the poor. When you experience modern conveniences from birth, as many of us do in our age, all the comforts of home from heat to refrigerators to the internet, they sure don't seem like luxuries. We are desperate not to lose them. Even when I went to live in an old rural town in Virginia, I still didn't want to give those things up and I don't feel any less wise for it. I tried during my own time away to somewhat lessen my need for them, and it is not easy. A few of Thoreau's friends tried to live a "paleo" existence and failed miserably. At another time Thoreau commented that a man was foolish not to utilize the technology of his time. He was much wiser then. Besides, that was then and this was now. We still have problems in this world. But, compared to when and where Thoreau lived, the lives of most people today is much easier and probably far fewer are working their fingers to the bone just to stay afloat. We need to be prepared to do without our dispensable luxuries, and I am sometimes sorry for those who mistake them for happiness, but I doubt much that anyone would be more willing to give them up today - even their hi-def tvs - than they were in his time, whether they are poorer and have one tv, or wealthier and have a warehouse full.
*
To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically. The success of great scholars and thinkers is commonly a courtier-like success, not kingly, not manly. That all sounds very impressive, but frankly, most philosophers I've read, and that's not a few, didn't pass the laugh test after a chapter or so, and often didn't last even that long. To be a philosopher is simply to speculate about the essence of things. I'm not knocking it. I love philosophy. But, I take what I like from each of them and happily leave out the rest.
*
To anticipate, not the sunrise and the dawn merely, but, if possible, Nature herself! How many mornings, summer and winter, before yet any neighbor was stirring about his business, have I been about mine! No doubt, many of my townsmen have met me returning from this enterprise, farmers starting for Boston in the twilight, or woodchoppers going to their work. My sleep issue (or lack thereof) is among my greatest afflictions, but, it has also given me the benefit of experiencing many sunrises and to see cities when most everyone else was asleep. It has also allowed me to read a lot more than I otherwise could have. But, this is a silver lining. Give me a choice, most days I'd rather I could sleep longer.
*
Finding that my fellow-citizens were not likely to offer me any room in the courthouse, or any curacy or living anywhere else, but I must shift for myself, I turned my face more exclusively than ever to the woods, where I was better known. I determined to go into business at once, and not wait to acquire the usual capital, using such slender means as I had already got. My purpose in going to Walden Pond was not to live cheaply nor to live dearly there, but to transact some private business with the fewest obstacles; to be hindered from accomplishing which for want of a little common sense, a little enterprise and business talent, appeared not so sad as foolish. I admit, I am not entirely sure what the entire paragraph, obviously an analogy, means, especially given that awkward last sentence. But, I do know it is how I felt when I moved from suburban New York to rural Virginia. All I can do is try to phrase it for myself and leave out that dratted last sentence - Finding that my fellow surbanites were commonly tied to some goals which I understood but did not find particularly alluring, I turned my face to the rural borders, where I felt more at home. On the other hand, I wasn't about to give up the internet or hvac either.
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No man ever stood the lower in my estimation for having a patch in his clothes; yet I am sure that there is greater anxiety, commonly, to have fashionable, or at least clean and unpatched clothes, than to have a sound conscience. . . It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes. Could you, in such a case, tell surely of any company of civilized men which belonged to the most respected class? There came a time when I realized that almost all my heroes of the past were known for their ill attention to clothing. If I have none of their abilities or their accomplishments, I have that in common with them.
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Even in our democratic New England towns the accidental possession of wealth, and its manifestation in dress and equipage alone, obtain for the possessor almost universal respect. So strong a hold has wealth in our society in our evaluation of others, and so common does that theme seem to me in all times and places that I have studied, that I am not sure it is not somehow programmed into the hardware of all of us, including myself, or so early primed in the software, as to seem like the former.
*
It is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly, that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety. From the excellent crime drama, Heat: "A guy told me one time, 'Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.' " (De Niro's character to Pacino's). I cannot say I am a fanatic about this, but, whenever I find myself attached to material things, I accept it, but feel it is a loss in a spiritual sense.
I suppose, if we suffer a cataclysm that negates all or most of our technology, then Walden (and those suddenly foresighted survivalists) will seem very, very wise.
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*
It is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly, that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety. From the excellent crime drama, Heat: "A guy told me one time, 'Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.' " (De Niro's character to Pacino's). I cannot say I am a fanatic about this, but, whenever I find myself attached to material things, I accept it, but feel it is a loss in a spiritual sense.
I suppose, if we suffer a cataclysm that negates all or most of our technology, then Walden (and those suddenly foresighted survivalists) will seem very, very wise.
*
The head monkey at Paris put on a traveler’s cap, and all the monkeys in America do the same. Not much commentary is necessary. Excepting some hyperbole as to "all," I agree.
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Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows religiously the new. And it is done with no sense of foolishness or shame.
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In the long run men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, though they should fail immediately, they had better aim at something high. This is one of the most frequently quoted statements from Walden and generally good advice for mankind. "In the long run" covers all those random events where it doesn't appear to be true.
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If it is asserted that civilization is a real advance in the condition of man—and I think that it is, though only the wise improve their advantages—it must be shown that it has produced better dwellings without making them more costly; and the cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run. I'm sure Thoreau wished he could have convinced his fellow men of this. I do frequently enough to think it is some guiding purpose in my life.
In the long run men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, though they should fail immediately, they had better aim at something high. This is one of the most frequently quoted statements from Walden and generally good advice for mankind. "In the long run" covers all those random events where it doesn't appear to be true.
*
If it is asserted that civilization is a real advance in the condition of man—and I think that it is, though only the wise improve their advantages—it must be shown that it has produced better dwellings without making them more costly; and the cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run. I'm sure Thoreau wished he could have convinced his fellow men of this. I do frequently enough to think it is some guiding purpose in my life.
*
When I think of the benefactors of the race, whom we have apotheosized as messengers from heaven, bearers of divine gifts to man, I do not see in my mind any retinue at their heels, any carload of fashionable furniture. When I think of this point, the extra large extra fancy schmancy tvs come first to mind. Why the deep desire to own bigger and better when we were always satisfied before when we owned the last state of the art model? Still, so powerful is this drive, that those who own lesser models than available would find themselves without satisfied visitors, though everyone would have been delighted with it ten years earlier. I'm not sure that all benefactors of the "race" (I think he means mankind) did without the comforts and technologies of their time, though perhaps less so than the rest of us. And given that he lived the far greater part of his life in his parents' or others' homes, and Walden was a short experiment . . . .
When I think of the benefactors of the race, whom we have apotheosized as messengers from heaven, bearers of divine gifts to man, I do not see in my mind any retinue at their heels, any carload of fashionable furniture. When I think of this point, the extra large extra fancy schmancy tvs come first to mind. Why the deep desire to own bigger and better when we were always satisfied before when we owned the last state of the art model? Still, so powerful is this drive, that those who own lesser models than available would find themselves without satisfied visitors, though everyone would have been delighted with it ten years earlier. I'm not sure that all benefactors of the "race" (I think he means mankind) did without the comforts and technologies of their time, though perhaps less so than the rest of us. And given that he lived the far greater part of his life in his parents' or others' homes, and Walden was a short experiment . . . .
*
But lo! Man has become a tool of his tools. No doubt. Why I say all the time to my evalovin' gf "the cell phone is mine; I'm not its." Nor will I live my life to satisfy conventional determinations of material need I don't personally feel necessary. I felt this way when I owned a house, which served a purpose of raising my daughter. Soon after she was off to college I quit my job and sold it. I don't regret it. Sometimes freedom comes with having stuff, sometimes from not.
*
If I seem to boast more than is becoming, my excuse is that I brag for humanity rather than for myself; and my shortcomings and inconsistencies do not affect the truth of my statement. I think I know what he is talking about here. Some people can't bear listening to someone else's "wisdom," (or advice or stories) particularly though, when they agree! - they are too fearful that acknowledging it means they are somehow the lesser or that the speaker thinks they have the upper hand - and that is unbearable to them. And that's pretty much what he was doing throughout Walden. Giving to posterity what he then saw as wisdom. And some people, like the two I quoted at the beginning of this post, do not like it. On the other hand, he might just be boastful.
*
When I have met an immigrant tottering under a bundle which contained his all—looking like an enormous wen which had grown out of the nape of his neck—I have pitied him, not because that was his all, but because he had all that to carry. A feeling which still rings especially true to me. One day, living in Va., an elderly man I knew said to me, "David, I have never made more than $26,000 in any one year. And I know a lot of wealthy people. I'm pretty sure I'm happier than any of them." I can't read minds, but my observation was that it was to a large degree true.
If I seem to boast more than is becoming, my excuse is that I brag for humanity rather than for myself; and my shortcomings and inconsistencies do not affect the truth of my statement. I think I know what he is talking about here. Some people can't bear listening to someone else's "wisdom," (or advice or stories) particularly though, when they agree! - they are too fearful that acknowledging it means they are somehow the lesser or that the speaker thinks they have the upper hand - and that is unbearable to them. And that's pretty much what he was doing throughout Walden. Giving to posterity what he then saw as wisdom. And some people, like the two I quoted at the beginning of this post, do not like it. On the other hand, he might just be boastful.
*
When I have met an immigrant tottering under a bundle which contained his all—looking like an enormous wen which had grown out of the nape of his neck—I have pitied him, not because that was his all, but because he had all that to carry. A feeling which still rings especially true to me. One day, living in Va., an elderly man I knew said to me, "David, I have never made more than $26,000 in any one year. And I know a lot of wealthy people. I'm pretty sure I'm happier than any of them." I can't read minds, but my observation was that it was to a large degree true.
*
A lady once offered me a mat, but as I had no room to spare within the house, nor time to spare within or without to shake it, I declined it, preferring to wipe my feet on the sod before my door. It is best to avoid the beginnings of evil. I know what he means, but it is also possible to take almost all wisdom too far. What seemed like wisdom or "good" can easily become obsession - one of the lessons of The Lord of the Rings. You can moderate yourself if you have enough motivation and sometimes we take gifts from others simply to be gracious. He could have taken the mat. It would have made her feel good and wouldn't have hurt him much.
*
When formerly I was looking about to see what I could do for a living, some sad experience in conforming to the wishes of friends being fresh in my mind to tax my ingenuity, I thought often and seriously of picking huckleberries; that surely I could do, and its small profits might suffice—for my greatest skill has been to want but little—so little capital it required so little distraction from my wonted moods, I foolishly thought. Before I ever read Thoreau, I was in a high school class where every other person was an "honors club" student (note: after I entered Junior High I was soon thrown out of every honors class I had been put in). The teacher, who was the honors club's mentor went around asking each of us what we wanted to do for a living. It went like this - "Smith?" "I'd like to be a doctor." "Jones?" "A lawyer." "Johnson?" "Accountant." "Wallberg?" An astronaut." "Eisenberg?" "Uhhhh. I think I'd like to pick oranges." That's pretty close to verbatim. I remember the conversation but not whether I was serious or not. How I ended up a lawyer? My mother and ex-wife talked me into taking the LSATs and I had nothing else going on . . . but that's a story for another day. It may not have been my best decision, but it definitely has been an easier life than if I had chosen to pick oranges. Actually, I also remember my mother telling me that she knew I wasn't interested in money, but I should try to do something for a living I loved. It was good advice, but I neither understood it nor took it. A regret, but perhaps one it was inevitable I'd have.
*
The laborer’s day ends with the going down of the sun, and he is then free to devote himself to his chosen pursuit, independent of his labor; but his employer, who speculates from month to month, has no respite from one end of the year to the other. It would probably be hard to be a day laborer and survive in our very expensive world. But, I found a way to be a day lawyer of sorts and I like it much better than 9-5. I have no talent for making money - I know some people money comes to like duck-bill platypuses to kiwis (I just made that up - it has no real meaning, and I don't know if dbp's like kiwis - but you get it) and I'm sure someone else could do what I do in my meandering way and yet be rich anyway. I'll settle for having a lot of free time and being happy, but I wouldn't mind the extra money a bit either.
*
In short, I am convinced, both by faith an experience, that to maintain one’s self on this earth is not a hardship but a pastime, if we will live simply and wisely; as the pursuits of the simpler nations are still the sports of the more artificial. It is not necessary that a man should earn his living by the sweat of his brow, unless he sweats easier than I do. He's right in the sense that while we are young enough and healthy we can, but, he's seems lost in this idea that those who live in more primitive societies had it better than we do. As far as we can tell, if you live in an industrialized nation at least, you probably have it a lot better than anyone else ever did. It is the reason people flock here and to Western Europe, but we don't flock to Chad. I think I say to someone, if not almost every day, then certainly every week - we are not just the luckiest people in the world; we are the luckiest people in the history of the world! That's in all History! In all the World!
*
I would not have anyone adopt my mode of living on any account; for, besides that before he has fairly learned it I may have found out another for myself, I desire that there may be as many different persons in the world as possible; but I would have each one be very careful to find out and pursue his own way, and not his father’s or his mother’s or his neighbor’s instead. Sage advice. But, it is a good idea to tag "everything in moderation" onto most other advice. You cannot be unconventional, or march to your own drummer, about everything all the time. That way leads alienation, hardship and maybe even death. And, there are people, maybe most people, who feel the connection to their world in imitating their parents and whatever group they identify with. It is hard to have a culture without it - probably impossible.
I would not have anyone adopt my mode of living on any account; for, besides that before he has fairly learned it I may have found out another for myself, I desire that there may be as many different persons in the world as possible; but I would have each one be very careful to find out and pursue his own way, and not his father’s or his mother’s or his neighbor’s instead. Sage advice. But, it is a good idea to tag "everything in moderation" onto most other advice. You cannot be unconventional, or march to your own drummer, about everything all the time. That way leads alienation, hardship and maybe even death. And, there are people, maybe most people, who feel the connection to their world in imitating their parents and whatever group they identify with. It is hard to have a culture without it - probably impossible.
*
I would not stand between any man and his genius; and to him who does this work, which I decline, with his whole heart and soul and life, I would say, Persevere, even if the world call it doing evil, as it is most likely they will. He should know that the whole world will call it evil or stupid, just because someone's different. But, different doesn't mean its good or bad. I have given the same advice quoted above to a number of people (although, I say it in normal English). Some have wanted to be who they were, but did not have the strength to overcome their parents' expected disapproval, and others did do so, and in a few cases, thanking me profusely. Really, all I did was be someone to give them permission to do what they wanted to do in the first place.
*
Be sure that you give the poor the aid they most need, though it be your example which leaves them far behind. If you give money, spend yourself with it, and do not merely abandon it to them. . . There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root, and it may be that he who bestows the largest amount of time and money on the needy is doing the most by his mode of life to produce that misery which he strives in vain to relieve.
*
I would not subtract anything from the praise that is due to philanthropy, but merely demand justice for all who by their lives and works are a blessing to mankind. I do not value chiefly a man’s uprightness and benevolence, which are, as it were, his stem and leaves. . . His goodness must not be a partial and transitory act, but a constant superfluity, which costs him nothing and of which he is unconscious. . . We should impart our courage, and not our despair, our health and ease, and not our disease, and take care that this does not spread by contagion. . . .
*
Do not stay to be an overseer of the poor, but endeavor to become one of the worthies of the world.
I often found Thoreau's views on poverty and charity perplexing. I still have not figured it out and I'm not sure he was all that square on it. But, he basically said that he was all for it, just didn't feel he had any talent for it. At the same time, giving money as charity could be counter-productive. Better to give by example and by living a righteous life. My summary seems insufficient to me, but it's the best I can do. And then remember, he would be the most vocal and foremost, at least where he lived, to verbally condemn slavery and the killing of John Brown and risked his own neck in participating in the underground railroad. Whether that's called charity or heroic, it was sticking his neck out for others, because it was also illegal.
*
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. For most men, it appears to me, are in a strange uncertainty about it, whether it is of the devil or of God, and have somewhat hastily concluded that it is the chief end of man here to “glorify God and enjoy him forever.” I don't think that I can make that clearer or improve on it in any way. I'll only add, I don't think we need to go live in the woods to accomplish it. But, access to the woods helps me.
*
Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million, count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb nail. I try to follow this every day. A few things are important to me. Let everyone else focus on the many.
*
No wonder Alexander carried the Iliad with him on his expeditions in a precious casket. A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read by actually breathed from all human lips; not be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be cared out of the breath of life itself. The symbol of an ancient man’s thought becomes a modern man’s speech. Two thousand summers have imparted to the monuments of Grecian literature, as to her marbles, only a mature golden and autumnal tint, for they have carried their own serene and celestial atmosphere into all lands to protect them against the corrosion of time. Books are the treasured wealth of the world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations. Books, the oldest and the best, stand naturally and rightfully on the shelves of every cottage. They have no cause of their own to plead, but while they enlighten and sustain the reader his common sense will not refuse them. Their authors are a natural and irresistible aristocracy in every society, and, more than kings or emperors, exert an influence on mankind. . . . Exactly.
*
I had this advantage, at least, in my mode of life, over those who were obliged to look abroad for amusement, to society and the theater, that my life itself was become my amusement and never ceased to be novel. It was a drama of many scenes and without an end. If we were always indeed getting our living, and regulating our lives according to the last and best mode we had learned, we should never be troubled with ennui. Follow your genius closely enough, and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every hour. . . . To be honest, after reading quite a bit of him, I am not sure if this was not sour grapes, at least to some degree. Thoreau read the accounts of travelers who did go abroad voraciously. He did not do so much of it himself, certainly not in comparison to Emerson or others, but certainly more than most people he knew. But, he made so much of the world around him, he more than made up for it. I read this about Bruce Lee once, who liked to compare people to a stone that needed to be chipped away. The speaker noted, that most people could chip away as much as they liked, there was no Bruce Lee beneath it. I'd say the same for Thoreau.
*
I have found repeatedly, of late years, that I cannot fish without falling a little in self-respect. I have tried it again and again. I have skill at it, and, like many of my fellows, a certain instinct for it, which revives from time to time, but always when I have done I feel that it would have been better if I had not fished. I think that I do not mistake. It is a faint intimation, yet so are the first streaks of morning. . . . Unlike hunting on land, which I have a deep personal aversion too, I can't help believing that I would find fishing wonderfully relaxing, if I could only get past personally killing an animal (I learned later in life to kill insects - sometimes - that invaded the home or tried to eat me). I'm not criticizing others though who hunt or fish. I myself have been responsible for a holocaust of chickens and hooved animals killed by others on my account. When I was a wee laddie in summer camp my bunk was taken fishing by a ranger. I did not want to go, but as I was 9, they weren't going to leave me alone all day (although, I would have been fine - already at that age, I was leaving the bunk before dawn and spending hours by myself before others arose). On the boat, the other kids were having the time of their lives fishing. The ranger explained to me that the fish did not feel pain (that had to be a crock) and said we would throw them back after we caught them. I gave in and took a rod. Like the others, I caught a fish. Only one fish of those we caught died - the one I caught. It's almost a half century later and I still regret it.
I have found repeatedly, of late years, that I cannot fish without falling a little in self-respect. I have tried it again and again. I have skill at it, and, like many of my fellows, a certain instinct for it, which revives from time to time, but always when I have done I feel that it would have been better if I had not fished. I think that I do not mistake. It is a faint intimation, yet so are the first streaks of morning. . . . Unlike hunting on land, which I have a deep personal aversion too, I can't help believing that I would find fishing wonderfully relaxing, if I could only get past personally killing an animal (I learned later in life to kill insects - sometimes - that invaded the home or tried to eat me). I'm not criticizing others though who hunt or fish. I myself have been responsible for a holocaust of chickens and hooved animals killed by others on my account. When I was a wee laddie in summer camp my bunk was taken fishing by a ranger. I did not want to go, but as I was 9, they weren't going to leave me alone all day (although, I would have been fine - already at that age, I was leaving the bunk before dawn and spending hours by myself before others arose). On the boat, the other kids were having the time of their lives fishing. The ranger explained to me that the fish did not feel pain (that had to be a crock) and said we would throw them back after we caught them. I gave in and took a rod. Like the others, I caught a fish. Only one fish of those we caught died - the one I caught. It's almost a half century later and I still regret it.
*
The wasps came by thousands to my lodge in October, as to winter quarters, and settled on my windows within and on the walls overhead, sometimes deterring visitors from entering. Each morning, when they were numbed with cold, I swept some of them out, but I did not trouble myself much to get rid of them; I even felt complimented by their regarding my house as a desirable shelter. They never molested me seriously, though they bedded with me; and they gradually disappeared, into what crevices I do not know, avoiding winter and unspeakable cold. When I was a slightly older lad, perhaps 10 years later, I was actually married and my wife and I lived in a half of a railroad flat. Outside one window was a paper wasp hive. It was huge and I loved watching the inhabitants at work. One day I came home and my landlord was spraying it, killing them. He suggested that I take the huge oval nest and shellac it. I brought it into the house, still regretting their death. A few were still on the outside of the dome, caught while working like citizens of Pompeii. I decided it would be funny if my wife came home and found the nest inside while I was out with friend buying shellac. So, I left it there on the floor. While in the store, I suddenly came to my senses. No may in the world was I capable of doing this - I had almost failed shop in high school. So, we went back home to throw it out. Opening the door, some movement caught my eye. The wasps were not dead. In fact, a few were crawling slowly to the others and it seemed waking them. I asked my friend to help me. Let's just say he declined. I went in, got a hefty bag, and snuck up on it before quickly wrapping it up. Now I was complicit. Thoreau's wasps fared better than mine. Still, it was an adventure.
The wasps came by thousands to my lodge in October, as to winter quarters, and settled on my windows within and on the walls overhead, sometimes deterring visitors from entering. Each morning, when they were numbed with cold, I swept some of them out, but I did not trouble myself much to get rid of them; I even felt complimented by their regarding my house as a desirable shelter. They never molested me seriously, though they bedded with me; and they gradually disappeared, into what crevices I do not know, avoiding winter and unspeakable cold. When I was a slightly older lad, perhaps 10 years later, I was actually married and my wife and I lived in a half of a railroad flat. Outside one window was a paper wasp hive. It was huge and I loved watching the inhabitants at work. One day I came home and my landlord was spraying it, killing them. He suggested that I take the huge oval nest and shellac it. I brought it into the house, still regretting their death. A few were still on the outside of the dome, caught while working like citizens of Pompeii. I decided it would be funny if my wife came home and found the nest inside while I was out with friend buying shellac. So, I left it there on the floor. While in the store, I suddenly came to my senses. No may in the world was I capable of doing this - I had almost failed shop in high school. So, we went back home to throw it out. Opening the door, some movement caught my eye. The wasps were not dead. In fact, a few were crawling slowly to the others and it seemed waking them. I asked my friend to help me. Let's just say he declined. I went in, got a hefty bag, and snuck up on it before quickly wrapping it up. Now I was complicit. Thoreau's wasps fared better than mine. Still, it was an adventure.
*
Some are dinning in our ears that we Americans, and moderns generally, are intellectual dwarfs compared with the ancients, or even the Elizabethan men. But what is that to the purpose? A living dog is better than a dead lion. Shall a man go and hang himself he belongs to the race of pygmies, and not be the biggest pygmy that he can? Let everyone mind his own business, and endeavor to be what he was made. One of those things everyone should learn when young. Unfortunately, in my experience, anyway, not many are taught it. I can tell you that my mother raised all of her children to be individuals and independent - I'm pretty sure she regretted that deeply as she got older.
*
Why should we be in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away. And this even more so. Some people never learn it and many resent those who do. There is a powerful pull to fitting in and maybe for most people it is most satisfying. As always to his simplicity, simplicity, simplicity I'd add balance, balance, balance.
*
No face which we can give to a matter will stead us so well at last as the truth. This alone wears well. For the most part, we are not where we are, but in a false position. Through an infirmity of our natures, we suppose a case, and put ourselves into it, and hence are in two cases at the same time, and it is doubly difficult to get out. In sane moments we regard only the facts, the case that is. Say what you have to say, not what you ought. Any truth is better than make-believe. . . . I do agree, but how do we know it is the truth and not what just appears to be so. Man lives on one set of myths or another and can never know for sure if he has accidentally hit on some truth. But, he sure can think he has.
*
However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault finder will find fault even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. The town’s poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the town; but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate property like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do not want society. If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my days, like a spider, the world would be just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me. . . Do not seek so anxiously to be developed, to subject yourself to many influences to be played on; it is all dissipation. Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. The shadows of poverty and meanness gather around us, “and lo! Creation widens to our view.” . . . It is life near the bone where it is sweetest. You are defended from being a trifler. No man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity on a higher. Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul. This seems like such good advice but very contrary to human nature. Would one of those poor not choose wealth if handed to them in the midst of their glorious independence. Even Thoreau spent little time on the pond, two years plus a little, and as we know, was within easy walking distance to his family home. And it was his parent's home he lived at most of his life, or for some few years with the Emersons and elsewhere. StilI, I think he believed these things, as I do. But, it is too much to expect us to fight human nature. We can aspire to need less luxury, to want more of things which are otherwise spiritually or intellectually enriching. And we can feed ourselves with it. But, in our most ambitious endeavors along these lines, "aspire" is an important word, failure must be humorously accepted and moderation is the key.
*
However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault finder will find fault even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. The town’s poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the town; but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate property like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do not want society. If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my days, like a spider, the world would be just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me. . . Do not seek so anxiously to be developed, to subject yourself to many influences to be played on; it is all dissipation. Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. The shadows of poverty and meanness gather around us, “and lo! Creation widens to our view.” . . . It is life near the bone where it is sweetest. You are defended from being a trifler. No man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity on a higher. Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul. This seems like such good advice but very contrary to human nature. Would one of those poor not choose wealth if handed to them in the midst of their glorious independence. Even Thoreau spent little time on the pond, two years plus a little, and as we know, was within easy walking distance to his family home. And it was his parent's home he lived at most of his life, or for some few years with the Emersons and elsewhere. StilI, I think he believed these things, as I do. But, it is too much to expect us to fight human nature. We can aspire to need less luxury, to want more of things which are otherwise spiritually or intellectually enriching. And we can feed ourselves with it. But, in our most ambitious endeavors along these lines, "aspire" is an important word, failure must be humorously accepted and moderation is the key.
*
Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth. I sat at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance, and obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable cold as the ices. I thought that there was no need of ice to freeze them. They talked to me of the age of the wine and the fame of the vintage, which they had not got, and could not buy. The style, the house and grounds and “entertainment” pass for nothing with me. I called on the king, but he made me wait in his hall, and conducted like a man incapacitated for hospitality. There was a man in my neighborhood who lived in a hollow tree. His manners were truly regal. I should have done better had I called on him. Can't I have the love, money, fame (not so much fame) and the truth too? I wouldn't complain.
*
End of Exceprts
I can't say that's Walden in a nutshell, because it is really just the more philosophical parts that interest me most and I culled out. There are other aspects of it, and many stories about his neighbors, human and otherwise, the pond and the woods themselves. It is easy to see the faults the writers at the beginning of this post find in him. It seems to me that probably many things that Thoreau thought were not so good - might be very good. But, I'm not sure we can expect a 19th century man to think like a 21st century man. Or visa versa - though we have the benefit of hindsight and his voluminous writings. I doubt were he alive today and of like mine, he would shun air conditioning or Nobel Prize money.
And, though Walden is his most famous work, it is not the only thing he wrote. His primary work was his almost endless journals, which are worth a lot of time to read as they were to make. I have only a couple of small collections from them. One day, if my vast wealth is maintained and the right price comes around, I will purchase the lot.
Which will likely lead to a longer post.
And, though Walden is his most famous work, it is not the only thing he wrote. His primary work was his almost endless journals, which are worth a lot of time to read as they were to make. I have only a couple of small collections from them. One day, if my vast wealth is maintained and the right price comes around, I will purchase the lot.
Which will likely lead to a longer post.
