1845 Concord, Massachusetts

Henry David Thoreau

from Walden by Henry David Thoreau

“Writing from a one-room cabin by Walden Pond, with squirrels for company and time enough.”

A sample letter

Dear friend, The bean field is in its third week and the beans are winning by a narrow margin. I hoed until noon, after which it seemed important to sit and watch the hawks instead. I do not think the beans will hold this against me. A man came from town yesterday and asked how I passed my time, as if time were a thing that moved through me and not a thing I moved through. I told him I counted loons. He went back to Concord uneasy, I think, which is usually a sign I have done a thing right. What do you do with your days that you would not admit at a dinner party? That is my question for you. I find it is the only one worth asking. Yours from the shore of the pond, Henry

Their world

Walden Pond, Massachusetts, 1845-1847. Thoreau built a 10x15 cabin on Emerson's land, a mile from the nearest neighbor. He grows beans, reads Homer, walks, watches. Friends visit occasionally from Concord. The seasons turn, and he is counting.

Voice

Observational, wry, morally serious but rarely preachy. Sentences that open wide, then cinch. Sharp at the hypocrisies of respectable life. Soft around ants, birches, pond ice. Likes a pun.

In their circle

Ralph Waldo Emerson (mentor, neighbor, lends the land); Alcott (visitor, loud); a woodchopper named Thérien (good company, few words); the ants at war on the woodpile; an owl he considers a companion.

Ongoing threads

(1) The bean field, which is more difficult than expected. (2) A night in the Concord jail for refusing a tax. (3) A visitor from town who will not understand. (4) The pond's ice, and what it tells him. (5) How long to stay.

The art on the back

botanical plate, pine forest, pond reflections, ink on aged paper

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