Henry David Thoreau – Walden – Lilacs and Abandoned Wells

Walden by Henry David Thoreau contains many extraordinary passages. I want to focus upon a particular set of images that the great essayist creates regarding the mutability of everyday human lives and endeavors and the way in which they relate to nature.

When observing some lone abandoned homes and farms in a rural setting Thoreau observes,

“Still grows the vivacious lilac a generation after the door and lintel and the sill are gone, unfolding its sweet-scented flowers each spring, to be plucked by the musing traveller; planted and tended once by children's hands, in front-yard plots—now standing by wallsides in retired pastures, and giving place to new-rising forests;—the last of that stirp, sole survivor of that family. Little did the dusky children think that the puny slip with its two eyes only, which they stuck in the ground in the shadow of the house and daily watered, would root itself so, and outlive them, and house itself in the rear that shaded it, and grown man's garden and orchard, and tell their story faintly to the lone wanderer a half-century after they had grown up and died—blossoming as fair, and smelling as sweet, as in that first spring. I mark its still tender, civil, cheerful  lilac colors. “

I find this passage both moving and thought provoking. I also sometimes look at an old place, be it an office building, factory (Thoreau might cringe at my commercial and industrial connection to his ideas), home, or even a park that has been around for a very long time, and I think about all who have come and gone before. Did these people, who lived, loved, laughed, fought and suffered, ever think how the places that they occupied would change and decay over time? Did they ever imagine that some of these places might be abandoned?  I think about people occupying buildings, homes and other places now. Is anyone else thinking about what these locations will become fifty or a hundred years hence?

Of course Thoreau is talking about the mortality and the finite nature of human life and endeavors. The limited duration of people’s existence and actions in the face of change and in time, is starkly contrasted with nature which at least in a relative sense, seems to exhibit a permanency.

The image of children planting lilacs, which remain long after a home is abandoned and in ruins, and after the children have grown old and died, is particularly powerful for me. This section of the work, titled “Former Inhabitants and Winter Visitors” goes on with these melancholy musings as Thoreau contemplates abandoned wells,

Sometimes the well dent is visible, where once a spring oozed; now dry and tearless grass; or it was covered deep—not to be discovered till some late day—with a flat stone under the sod, when the last of the race departed. What a sorrowful act must that  be—the covering up of wells! coincident with the opening of wells of tears. These cellar dents, like deserted fox burrows, old holes, are all that is left where once were the stir and bustle of human life, and "fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute," in some form and dialect or other were by turns discussed.

It seems to me that throughout Walden Thoreau shows great regard for human reflections and philosophical thoughts of all types, including those concerning “fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute”.  Here however, he seems to be turning a reflective and critical gaze upon even his own views and priorities. Of all the important philosophical topics that people ponder and that Thoreau expresses great interesting in elswhere, I think it may be important that Thoreau chooses “fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute” as an examples of important human thinking and discourse. Perhaps he is reflecting upon the reality, that in the end, whether we are guided by free will or by fate, what we say and do, will pass away. All that will remain will be nature.

Elswhere In Walden, Thoreau rarely dwells upon such sentimental fatalism as he does here. Indeed, this work is filled with the images and musings about change; seasons change, landscapes change, humans change the environment, etc.  However, the author usually celebrates change as a wellspring of new life, new experiences and beauty. Here Thoreau chooses to devote a few pages to the sadder side of existence. In doing so he is exposing what can be viewed as the triviality of certain things that we value very highly. I am glad that he does so. I find these descriptions of the loss inherent in the inevitability of change to be aesthetically masterful.

Henry David Thoreau's Walden and Reading

A recent reading of Walden by Henry David Thoreau has given me much to ponder. I will not attempt to encapsulate the entire work in a single blog entry. Instead, I may post several pieces on particular points that interested me.

Contained within Walden is the subpart titled “Reading”. I think that this segment is often overlooked, as it does not focus upon humanity’s relation to nature, a favorite point among those who enjoy discussing Thoreau.

In this section, Thoreau engages in a relatively strong, I would even describe it as scathing, attack upon folks for their reading habits. If the great American essayist were alive today, he would surely be labeled as the dreaded ”book snob”.

Thoreau decries spending ones life reading what he describes as “Little Things”.

He writes,

“I think that having learned our letters we should read the best that is in literature, and not be forever repeating our a-b-abs, and words of one syllable, in the fourth or fifth classes, sitting on the lowest and foremost form all our lives. Most men are satisfied if they read or hear read, and perchance have been convicted by the wisdom of one good book, the Bible, and for the rest of their lives vegetate and dissipate their faculties in what is called easy reading.  “

From a personal point of view, but without engaging in the judgment of others, I am with Thoreau so far. I mostly try to avoid so-called easy reading. I do so mostly because I find such “light reading” to be boring.

Later, such easy reading, along with those who engage in it, are judged in harsher terms,

"We are underbred and low-lived and illiterate; and in this respect I confess I do not make any very broad distinction between the illiterateness of my townsman who cannot read at all and the illiterateness of him who has learned to read only what is for children and feeble intellects.”

Personally, I feel that labeling folks who engage in an activity less seriously than I do as “feeble intellects” is not the best path to a comprehensive and balanced view of the world. Everyone finds substance in life in different places. If I am quick to judge an individual who engages in such reading, I may also be quick to overlook the fact that the person has developed artistic abilities that I have disused, or has developed other skills or virtues that I have neglected. For instance, a person who spends several hours a day listening to and studying classical music might be inclined to look down upon me as someone who is wasting time that could be spent exploring that particular art form. One needs to be very careful before being too critical concerning the intellectual and artistic pursuits of others. Everyone is different and exhibits varying strengths and weaknesses.

On the other hand, I find the above advice personally agreeable. As reading goes, it has been my lifelong, number one hobby. Thus, I look to books to challenge me. I want to mainly stick with “the best of literature,” and I wish to become acquainted with varying and diverse points of view as well as come to know both the wisdom and, I will add, folly contained in great books.

Thoreau spends several pages extolling the wisdom of the ages that can be discovered in books. He concludes that words can be life changing. They can open new vistas to us and make us better people. He believes that certain forms of wisdom are universal and, of course, can be accessed by reading great books.

The essayist goes on,

“It is not all books that are as dull as their readers. There are probably words addressed to our condition exactly, which, if we could really hear and understand, would be more salutary than the morning or the spring to our lives, and possibly put a new aspect on the face of things for us. How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book! The book exists for us, perchance, which will explain our miracles and reveal new ones. The at present unutterable things we may find somewhere uttered. These same questions that disturb and puzzle and confound us have in their turn occurred to all the wise men; not one has been omitted; and each has answered them, according to his ability, by his words and his life. Moreover, with wisdom we shall learn liberality. “

There is a widely discussed intellectual kinship between Ralph Waldo Emerson and Thoreau. Emerson heavily influenced Thoreau and both shared many common views. On the subject of books and great authors, however, I find that, at least in this essay, Thoreau is less suspicious and cautious about assimilating the thoughts and opinions of great authors. My commentary on Emerson’s view of books in the American Scholar is here. In that work Emerson seems to be making the case that one should be very wary of the “life changing” aspects of books. He is highly critical of accepting the ideas of even great intellects.

In contrast, Thoreau gives a lot of credit here to history’s esteemed writers and thinkers. Thoreau is right on the money in his assessment that issues such as life, death, the origins of ourselves and the universe, etc. have been tackled by many who have gone before us. Even if one reads very skeptically, there is a treasure trove of insightful, useful and just plain fascinating observations to discover. For those who have only dipped a toe into the water of such deep reading, I join Thoreau in encouraging a very deep plunge.

Thoreau devotes many more words and pages to both the issue of “easy reading” as well as to extolling the virtues of great and enlightening books. This segment is but one scrumptious, albeit slightly bitter, dish included in the feast that is Walden. Those very curious about this segment can easily find it in the work’s table of contents and read it in isolation. However, it very nicely fits into and complements the remainder of this great work.

After Midnight by Irmgard Keun

This post is part of German Literature Month hosted by Caroline at Beauty is a Sleeping Cat and Lizzy over at Lizzy's Literary Life.

After Midnight by Irmgard Keun (1905 – 1982) is set Nazi Germany in 1936. It is told in the first person by 19 year-old Susanne Moder, also known as Sanna. The novel’s protagonist spends her time interacting and socializing with a host of family members, friends and acquaintances, and falling in love with her fiancé, Franz.

 This post is not a comprehensive review of the novel, nor is it an analysis of most of the complex, well drawn out and interesting characters. These characters range from seemingly frivolous party boys and girls, intellectual writers and anti–Nazis, as well as Nazi members of the SS and Brownshirts themselves. Instead I will focus upon Sanna and Keun’s motivation for creating her.

Sanna is a most remarkable persona. She is clever, extremely perceptive and sharp witted. However, she is anything but an intellectual. Unlike many characters that I am drawn to, she does not articulate composite viewpoints, opinions or judgments in her head. For the most part, she lives in the moment. Left to her own devices, she is primary concerned with her social life, romantic interactions and small squabbles with family and friends.

Yet, Sanna is very disturbed by what the Nazis do. When she witnesses or becomes aware of it, she objects to the political and ethnic persecutions and the ceaseless propaganda. At the same time, she is amused by Nazi theatricality and the savvy way that they use the media of the time. She does not put it all together into a coherent worldview, however. On the other hand, several of her friends and associates spend much time with theorizing and pontification their belief systems, which range from anti Nazi to pro-Nazi.

Oddly, I would compare Sanna to Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. Like Twain’s creation, she is seemingly naive and she has no consistent political, social or philosophical views. She is mostly interested in her family and social life. On the other hand, also like Finn, Sanna is a fountain of satiric and cynical insights about the world that are based on an underlying morality. For instance, her take on the reading habits, or lack thereof, of many people is insightful and amusing. At one point, she comments about Kurt Pielmann, a member of the SS who is in love with her best friend, Gerti.

“The likes of Kurt Pielmann will be sure to send her the constructive literature, if only because then he can believe he’s read it himself. I know about this sort of thing through my father, and Aunt Adelheid, and a good many other people too. They find reading far too much of a strain, far too boring. You can bet your sweet life they haven’t read Mein Kampf from beginning to end yet. Not that I have either. But they’ve bought it, and glanced at it now and again, and in the end they believe they’ve read the whole thing. “

Another example involves a sarcastic view of Hitler and his supposed abilities and sacrifices,

“Take the Führer: he devotes almost his entire life to being photographed for his people. Just imagine, what an achievement! Having your picture taken the whole time with children and pet dogs, indoors and out of doors—never any rest. And constantly going about in aeroplanes, or sitting through long Wagner operas, because that’s German art, and he sacrifices himself for German art as well. “

These witty observations are as far as Sanna goes, however. She never moves on to strong and definitive opinions organized around the big picture.

Based upon Keun’s biography, the author seems to have been something of a deep thinker. She held strong and sophisticated views on an entire range of subjects and likely associated with similar folks. In Sanna, she was creating a very different person than herself. Sanna seems to be a representation of natural human reaction and understanding of many of the world’s ills, including outright evil. She does not over rationalize or analyze, but unlike many who are around her, she recognizes wrong, hypocrisy and propaganda, as well as plain old dumb behavior.

According to several sources that I have read, Keun’s biography is in many ways more interesting than fiction.  A successful writer of novels that explored the role of women in the modern world, she became a vehement anti-Nazi even before Hitler came to power. She maintained this position before, during and after World War II.  Initially remaining in Germany with the intention of resisting Hitler, she was eventually forced to flee the Reich before the war. It was during this period in exile that After Midnight was written. Her exposure to Nazi oppression was not over, however. She subsequently was trapped in the Netherlands after the German invasion.  After planting a fake story purporting her own suicide, she successfully hid out in Germany for the duration of the war. In the postwar period, though plagued by bouts of mental illness, she lived to see resurgence in the popularity of her works in the 1970s.

This book is a fantastic character study. As I alluded to above, in addition to Sanna, there are several rich and compelling characters that have all sorts of interesting things going on. I read the Anthea Bell translation of this work. At least in this version, the writing is lively and engaging.  Where this novel falls short is its brevity. I feel that these other characters had the potential for much more development. At less then 200 pages this book could have been twice as long. Nevertheless the virtues of this work are strong and I highly recommend it.