Tuesday

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What unifies the structure of Walden has been much debated. Two of the most frequently noted structural devices are the seasonal structure (one year from summer to spring) and a dialectical structure in which pairs of chapters present thematic counterpoints to each other (e.g. "Reading" vs. "Sounds," "Solitude" vs. "Visitors"). 

Chapter 4 - "Sounds"

This is a strange, but poetic chapter that focuses on the sounds that Thoreau hears when living at Walden (and how the sounds make him feel).  There is this idea of Thoreau's that most of humanity doesn't quite listen to its soundings.  To be in-tune with the place you live is - in part - to listen closely to it, to hear it, and perhaps to respond to what you hear.

Micah has too really good dialectical journals on this chapter:

#16: "Much is published, but little is printed" p. 108

By published, Thoreau means made public, as in, anyone can observe/hear. There are so many sounds and things of that nature that are able to be observed, each with their own meaning and cause, but very few care to listen, and fewer still, care to write them down. This continues the thought that man uses nature only for what it can get out of it, and tries its best to remove itself from it. Mankind in general doesn't care about the chirping of a bird, or the chirping of crickets. When they do care, it is as an annoyance, a reminder of the world they seek to leave behind by becoming civilized.

#17: The train

In the 'Sounds' chapter, Thoreau goes to great lengths to personify the train that he talks about. How it perspires steam, how it must put on snow shoes, etc. This is done because in a way, the train represents a concentration of what makes humans terrible, at least to Thoreau. They are cold, calculated, used to transport things from one end of the world to another, all the while cutting surgically precise lines through the wilderness that Thoreau believes greater than man. It is a machine made for business, and the making of money on the backs of those who are too lazy and too luxurious to get what they need from the land around them.

"I am refreshed and expanded when the freight train rattles past me, and I smell the stores which go dispensing their odors all the way from Long Wharf to Lake Champlain, reminding me of foreign parts of coral reefs, and Indian oceans, and tropical climes, and the extent of the globe." (116)

"Now that the cars are gone by and all the restless world with them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling.   I am more alone than ever.  For the rest of the afternoon, perhaps, my meditations are interrupted only by the faint rattle of a carriage or team along the distant highway."  (119)

Chapter 5 - "Solitude"

Thoreau makes a case for nature being a better companion than humans.

"I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time.  To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating.  I love to be alone.  I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude." (131)

"Next to use the grandest laws are continually being executed.  Next to us is not the workman whom we have hired, with whom we love so well to talk, but the workman, who work we are." (130)

 

10/26 page 135

10/27 page 150

10/28 work on dialectical journals

10/31 in-class writing prompt

11/2 page 178

11/3 page 194

11/8 page 228

11/18 Finish book