Saturday, July 12, 2008

Happy birthday, Henry





Today is Henry Thoreau's birthday. Rather than remark on his 'proto-environmental' writing, I want to briefly note that he was a wonderful literary stylist, with a sharp ear for the epigram. To wit:

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.

When a dog runs at you, whistle for him.
How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book.
... and one of my favorites ...
Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you find a trout in the milk.
The other thing to note about Henry's writing and thought is that he was an early proponent of what we might call 'radical localism' - the notion that one can live truly and deeply by working to know one's locale. Wines are said to have properties imparted to them by the particular features of their home; Henry knew that - just like wine - we are permeated by the qualities of our own terroir. In this way he was a cousin to the Chesterton who wrote the napoleon of notting hill. In a sense he was also a cousin to contemporary 'psycho-geographers' such as Will Self.

The photo above is a dozen pencils made in Thoreau's pencil factory. Don't they look like some sticks of dynamite? Of course, in his hand they were.

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