Journalize Literature
Thoreau is thinking that reality as truly seen is forever new and more than words can say. So what do you think? Do we need contemplation or something like it in order to better understand who we are? Or should we be satisfied with Zweckrationalist (Weber) and go about setting and achieving measurable objectives in a calculable world?
Henry David Thoreau was many things, philosopher, existentialist, and pioneer of the environmental movement. A constant theme is his many writings is his belief that everyone was responsible for going out into the world, into the natural world, and finding their true identity through this interaction. He believed that no one could be an authentic version of their self until they made this external version of an internal struggle. In the piece "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For," Thoreau discusses his venture into the natural world to find a suitable place in which he might built a house that he could live in but instead of devoting himself to this task, he seemed far more interested in the action of exploration, of looking about him for possible places to live and imagining what each home might be like (334). It is as if the dream version of the real world with the possibilities that he might build up were more inviting, more important than anything he could hope to create in their real and concrete versions. This is the concept of reality vs. one's imagination and it seems that the moral is that the two can never be wholly intertwined.
In his writings, Thoreau takes the position that the artist or the poet lives more honestly, more truly than other men. These are the people who truly see reality and understand the world in a way that regular people could never hope to comprehend. He talks about cultivating a garden and allowing seeds to grow, but his flippancy and flittering from place to place without roots makes it hard to believe that he has ever gone to the lengths to physically toil as would be necessary to accomplish anything as a farmer or in nearly any field for that matter. Thoreau writes in a way that is actually very arrogant. Only his way of life is the correct one and only by doing what he has done can one claim to have lived with any focus or any purpose. He writes, "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" (Thoreau 341). Thoreau went out into the woods in order to contemplate them and his place in the world around him. Only in doing so could he believe that he was living a real and purposeful life. Certainly contemplation of one's existence is important but it seems that there are other important aspects of life to be considered as well which Thoreau does not take into account or give value to.
Instead of opening his mind to the powers of observation and the quest for truth, Thoreau has chosen a very specific course for his life which he insists is the only way of achieving this truth. He writes in "Reading," "With a little more deliberation in the choice of their pursuits, all men would perhaps become essentially students and observers, for certainly their nature and destiny are interesting to all alike. In accumulating property for ourselves or our posterity, in founding a family or a state, or acquiring fame even, we are mortal; but in dealing with truth we are immortal, and need fear no change nor accident" (Thoreau 351). According to this way of thinking, the only way that one can achieve what he calls immortality is through the obtaining of truth, but this is a very ambiguous thing. There are many questions that such an assertion leaves unanswered, such as what is this truth of which he is so insistent? Thoreau puts this truth in a position of more value than the creation of family or even the founding of a state. Such things are monumental both for the individual and for the larger world around us. How can it be that the experience he feels in the woods is really so much bigger than these accomplishments? It comes off as a kind of bravura. Thoreau himself, at least according...
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