The Retort

Response to a Poetic Reading From Walden

September 23rd, 2011 by Coul Hill For The Retort

Henry David Thoreau’s “Where I Lived and What I Lived For” is written very poetically, utilizing his mastery of elevated language and vivid imagery. Thoreau was among the original transcendentalists whose focuses relied heavily on intuition, creativity, and a religious belief that is highly conscious of nature as the connection to a vaguely defined deity or higher power. Thoreau and other transcendentalists believed that thought processes which elevated the aforementioned spiritual beliefs to superiority over mere empirical observations were the key to discovering ultimate reality, and this is evident in Thoreau’s essay.

Thoreau begins this work by paralleling oneness with nature to the monumentally celebrated ideal of American independence when in the opening sentence he states “I first took up my abode in the woods. . . by accident . . . on Independence Day” (74) thereby illustrating that by moving in with nature he had discovered his own independence.

The transcendentalist view of nature can be characterized by Thoreau’s writing as he lucidly describes his surroundings with such detail and passion that virtually escort the reader into the very picture that he paints with words. Thoreau holds a high reverence for the natural world. This is evident as he personifies many of its elements: “[t]his small lake was of most value as a neighbor” (75).

Most human beings view lakes as vessels of personal entertainment that exist for use and consumption, but not Thoreau. For him, the lake was alive, another life form that he could befriend. He went to the woods to live life at the core of its meaning as he defined it because he feared not death, but death’s potential revelation that he had squandered his life in a way void of any legitimate meaning.

This concept that both engulfed his personality and radiated from it epitomizes a heightened veneration for the seemingly unbridled environment in such a way that can be fervidly admired, no matter how admittedly difficult of a mind-state it is for contemporary Americans of today’s day and age to achieve.

An advocate (in the extreme sense of the word) for simplicity, Thoreau discredits “[our] nation itself” because it is “ruined by luxury and heedless expense,” referring to society as a whole, he states that “[i]t lives too fast” (77). These statements almost explicably define our society’s operation today yet they were written by a man in the woods over 150 years ago. Undoubtedly, if that man could speak from his grave (though in many ways he does), he would certainly be fiercely incensed about the lack of care man has paid to the natural world, which can be attested to by its continuous decline. He attests to his own message of simplicity as he describes his house by the lake as “not finished for winter . . . merely a defence [sic] against the rain” (74). Although he did ultimately complete the house before winter, it remains a crucial element to his argument because he illuminates the lack of hypocrisy within his message. I believe that it a fair assumption to make that most people who venture to the woods for a simplified version of life are fleeing the complications they themselves created. Not Thoreau. He tells us that this cabin (which as described is little more than a shack) was his first home other than tents and boats. It is remarkable that he sought and achieved his own view of the American dream in a manner such an antonym to the norm.

Of the authors belonging to the nature writing genre that emerged from the mid-nineteenth century, it is Henry David Thoreau that appeals to me the most because the way he writes is, in my opinion, what the ancient critic Longinus was referring to in his argument on sublimity in the arts: Thoreau’s writing is sublime. He is a master of the art of transport. In “Where I Lived and What I Lived For” the reader can visualize that house in the woods by lake so clearly that one almost feels present in that location. His conceptions are great, yet they are accessible to the average reader because they avoid turbidity and bombast. Those conceptions are all married to his high sense of passion which never falters throughout the essay.