“A new taste of that old musty cheese that we are” (Walden 95)

“Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We meet at meals three times a day, and give each other a new taste of that old musty cheese that we are.” —Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden

This is relevant now more than ever. I’ve asked this before, but in an increasingly connected world, are we ever really alone? If people are constantly connected to others via voice, text messages, and social media, are they ever even alone with their thoughts? Do they even have their own thoughts anymore, or only collaborative ones? Is there any mental space for contemplation, or only for reaction?

A person thinking or working is always alone (Walden 94)

A man thinking

or working is always

alone,

let him be

where he will.

Solitude is not

measured by the miles

of space that intervene

between

a man and his fellows.

—Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden

(About  “A Year in Walden”)

The spectator living inside your head (Walden 93)

“With thinking we may be beside ourselves in a sane sense. By a conscious effort of the mind we can stand aloof from actions and their consequences; and all things, good and bad, go by us like a torrent. …I only know myself as a human entity; the scene, so to speak, of thoughts and affections; and am sensible of a certain doubleness by which I can stand as remote from myself as from another. However intense my experience, I am conscious of the presence and criticism of a part of me, which, as it were, is not a part of me, but spectator…” —Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden 

This whole earth is but a point in space (Walden 92)

Earth seen from just past Saturn, taken by the Cassini spacecraft. NASA/JPL/SSI/CICLOPS/Wikimedia Commons

“Men frequently say to me, ‘I should think you would feel lonesome down there, and want to be nearer to folks, rainy and snowy days and nights especially.’ I am tempted to reply to such — This whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in space. How far apart, think you, dwell the two most distant inhabitants of yonder star, the breadth of whose disk cannot be appreciated by our instruments? Why should I feel lonely? is not our planet in the Milky Way? This which you put seems to me not to be the most important question. What sort of space is that which separates a man from his fellows and makes him solitary?” —Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden

(More about the above photo and planetary scientist Carolyn Porco.)

(About  “A Year in Walden”)

“I have never felt lonesome…” (Walden 91)

Thoreau’s Cove, Walden Pond, Concord, Massachusetts. ca. 1908. Wikimedia Commons

I think “Solitude” is an especially timely chapter from  because our technological interconnectedness is eroding what little time we have to be alone. Because with a phone and social media, you never really have to be alone, just you and your thoughts.

Thoreau needed more alone time than most people. Even when he wasn’t living in the woods (which was most of his life), he liked to take long walks daily if he could.

But imagine what it would be like to have your own one-room house in the woods, no phone or electronic media of any kind. You can walk to town every day and socialize, but when you are home… you are generally all by yourself in a quiet house amid the sounds of nature. Here’s what Henry said about it:

Society for the melancholy man (Walden 90)

Yet I experienced sometimes

that the most sweet and tender,

the most innocent and encouraging

society may be found in any natural object,

even for the poor misanthrope and

most melancholy man.

There can be no very black melancholy to him

who lives in the midst of Nature

and has his senses still.

—Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden

(About  “A Year in Walden”)

Thoreau’s solitude… and Ellington’s (Walden 89)

In his contrarian way, Thoreau in this chapter of Walden is redefining solitude not as something lonely or sad, but as a source of renewal.

Popular songs often have a different spin on solitude. Duke Ellington wrote the most famous song by that title, and Billie Holiday gave it its definitive vocal rendition in 1941.

Fully aware that this is not the kind of solitude Henry had in mind, I’m embedding this song in the spirit of Henry’s comments a few days ago about the pleasure of listening to the mournful owl, and as evidence that there’s more than one way to enjoy “Solitude.”

 

(About  “A Year in Walden”)

A world all to myself (Walden 88)

Thoreau’s cabin wasn’t far from town and Walden Pond wasn’t truly a wilderness. Even so, living there he experienced a level of solitude that is increasingly rare in today’s world.

Detail of 1852 map, showing Concord and Walden Pond. Library of Congress

“For what reason have I this vast range and circuit, some square miles of unfrequented forest, for my privacy, abandoned to me by men? My nearest neighbor is a mile distant, and no house is visible from any place but the hill-tops within half a mile of my own. … I have, as it were, my own sun and moon and stars, and a little world all to myself.”

“A delicious evening” and how to prepare for it (Walden 87)

Sunset on Holmes Lake, Lincoln, Nebraska.

“This is a delicious evening, when the whole body is one sense, and imbibes delight through every pore. I go and come with a strange liberty in Nature, a part of herself.” —Henry David Thoreau, “Solitude,” Walden

Tr-r-r-oonk! Thoreau loves frogs (Walden 86)

Walden Pond, via Wikimedia Commons

Go down by the water at night and you’ll hear them. You don’t even have to get very close — they’re loud, and probably never more playfully described than here. To set the mood with some mostly North American frogs, go to Animal Diversity Web’s frog call page (University of Michigan Museum of Zoology). Or listen to samples from Smithsonian Folkways’ 1958 LP Sounds of North American Frogs. Now read on: