favorite author
As I mentioned an entry ago, I've been in an especially fangirlish mode lately about my favorite author. Known to reference him in various matters and go glossy-eyed at the mention of him, I have in past possibly annoyed various friends and relations with The Thoreau Obsession. But he remains my favorite author and most fascinating of historical figures to me.
When I was... maybe twelve, or thirteen... and from then on - I came up with some philosophical mishmash that I held as basic beliefs for the next few years. I thought my ideas were terribly original and that it had been great fun to think them all up. But when I was fifteen, I discovered that in fact there had been a whole group over a century and a half before me who had come up with some of the same things and called it Transcendentalism. When I first found out about this word in tenth grade American Literature class, I was in rapture. I stared at the blackboard on which the ideas were written. I read the section in our book eagerly. I waited to pounce on the answers to the questions posed in class about Emerson's Nature. In short I looked at all the things these transcendentalist guys had come up with and said, "Yes! Yes I know, EXACTLY!!! I know!" etc.
I don't remember the exact reason at first, but it was Thoreau I liked best. Emerson and company seemed all very good, but Thoreau seemed positively exuberant. And as I found more out I discovered that indeed, Thoreau had been the one to really do what a great deal of others had only thought about doing but never actually tried.
The first wave of the Thoreau obsession was then, spring and summer 2004, and I must admit, it was rather embarassing, myself having been a rather embarassing fifteen-year-old. But, um, I digress.
But when I came out of being an embarassing fifteen-year-old all was well and good and I managed to be more sensible and more idealistic at the same time. Anyway, that's not the point. The point IS, The Thoreau Obsession continued. I read him, I read biographies about him, when I found first-hand accounts of his person (like Edward Emerson's "Henry Thoreau as Remembered by a Young Friend" and small glimpses of Concordians' knowledge of Thoreau and others) I eagerly read - no, devoured - them in a flurry of wanting to know.
The Thoreau Obsession has not only to do with his writings - which are excellent of course - but with his character. He's terribly fascinating. From his lone walks round the woods in hours normal and decidedly abnormal for walkers - to his reported tendency to be quiet and formal in company, until someone set him off talking about nature or his doings in it - to his enthusiasm and exuberance and positive liveliness (he is reported to have set off dancing once - to have played the flute beautifully - and to have talked to a great many people about a great many fascinating things) - to his earnest love of things, how he would stand for hours watching animals going about, how he would go off into the woods in any manner of weather to observe trees. In short The Thoreau Obsession has to do with that great longing which everyone feels for his or her favorite author - just to meet him once - just to see him going down the street - just to have one word. And with those like me who fall often - in fact at every opportunity given - into the past, it is more tugging and more fascinating to know just what it would be like to meet a favorite author.
And so I read most everything I find about Thoreau. When the seasons change I read the part of Walden corresponding to the coming time of year. I go to Walden Pond and walk all the way about it and my friends and I impart our own memories to it - when we had the Birthday Cookie on a little hill by the pond - and swam in a more remote cove in an emerald current - and oh, everything. I want to go so much now, in winter, because I have not seen the pond frozen before. And so I have seen the original manuscript of Walden, kept cased in the Thoreau Society back in the woods, scanned over the nearly illegible long handwriting, and wanted to fall briefly into the words. And now I have discovered that the Thoreau Society opens its library weekdays - it has most everything written about Thoreau - original manuscripts by him and those close to him - information - so many things one would want to know, seemingly endless volumes. And one needs advance permission to enter, and there is a list of most descriptive rules by which one must abide for going in, but I must go.
When I was... maybe twelve, or thirteen... and from then on - I came up with some philosophical mishmash that I held as basic beliefs for the next few years. I thought my ideas were terribly original and that it had been great fun to think them all up. But when I was fifteen, I discovered that in fact there had been a whole group over a century and a half before me who had come up with some of the same things and called it Transcendentalism. When I first found out about this word in tenth grade American Literature class, I was in rapture. I stared at the blackboard on which the ideas were written. I read the section in our book eagerly. I waited to pounce on the answers to the questions posed in class about Emerson's Nature. In short I looked at all the things these transcendentalist guys had come up with and said, "Yes! Yes I know, EXACTLY!!! I know!" etc.
I don't remember the exact reason at first, but it was Thoreau I liked best. Emerson and company seemed all very good, but Thoreau seemed positively exuberant. And as I found more out I discovered that indeed, Thoreau had been the one to really do what a great deal of others had only thought about doing but never actually tried.
The first wave of the Thoreau obsession was then, spring and summer 2004, and I must admit, it was rather embarassing, myself having been a rather embarassing fifteen-year-old. But, um, I digress.
But when I came out of being an embarassing fifteen-year-old all was well and good and I managed to be more sensible and more idealistic at the same time. Anyway, that's not the point. The point IS, The Thoreau Obsession continued. I read him, I read biographies about him, when I found first-hand accounts of his person (like Edward Emerson's "Henry Thoreau as Remembered by a Young Friend" and small glimpses of Concordians' knowledge of Thoreau and others) I eagerly read - no, devoured - them in a flurry of wanting to know.
The Thoreau Obsession has not only to do with his writings - which are excellent of course - but with his character. He's terribly fascinating. From his lone walks round the woods in hours normal and decidedly abnormal for walkers - to his reported tendency to be quiet and formal in company, until someone set him off talking about nature or his doings in it - to his enthusiasm and exuberance and positive liveliness (he is reported to have set off dancing once - to have played the flute beautifully - and to have talked to a great many people about a great many fascinating things) - to his earnest love of things, how he would stand for hours watching animals going about, how he would go off into the woods in any manner of weather to observe trees. In short The Thoreau Obsession has to do with that great longing which everyone feels for his or her favorite author - just to meet him once - just to see him going down the street - just to have one word. And with those like me who fall often - in fact at every opportunity given - into the past, it is more tugging and more fascinating to know just what it would be like to meet a favorite author.
And so I read most everything I find about Thoreau. When the seasons change I read the part of Walden corresponding to the coming time of year. I go to Walden Pond and walk all the way about it and my friends and I impart our own memories to it - when we had the Birthday Cookie on a little hill by the pond - and swam in a more remote cove in an emerald current - and oh, everything. I want to go so much now, in winter, because I have not seen the pond frozen before. And so I have seen the original manuscript of Walden, kept cased in the Thoreau Society back in the woods, scanned over the nearly illegible long handwriting, and wanted to fall briefly into the words. And now I have discovered that the Thoreau Society opens its library weekdays - it has most everything written about Thoreau - original manuscripts by him and those close to him - information - so many things one would want to know, seemingly endless volumes. And one needs advance permission to enter, and there is a list of most descriptive rules by which one must abide for going in, but I must go.
posted by Laura at 9:11 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home