Henry David Thoreau has become a citizen of the world. His thinking about nature, science, literature, society, politics, and religion was subtle, flexible, insightful, well observed. His books and essays have been translated into perhaps a hundred modern languages and adapted by many people from diverse backgrounds for their own uses. From politicians and activists like Gandhi and King to scientists using his observations to study climate changes, Thoreau is a guide and an inspiration. The Thoreau Society in Concord, now the Thoreau Alliance, has been successful after more than 80 years in bringing Thoreau’s writings and thinking to the attention of the world. Thoreau continues to find admirers and to be quoted in countless contexts from environmentalism to social justice to zoology.
Thoreau was Concord born and bred but today he belongs to the world, doesn’t he? He belongs to everyone and to no one, right? I wonder.
Around the world people are talking and writing about what Thoreau said, or meant to say, about almost everything that is of interest to anybody. This is as it should be. Sort of.
Have you noticed how often Henry David Thoreau uses the second-person pronoun “you” in his writing? These examples are taken more or less at random from his Journal for 1852: “you will see one red-wing in the midst of many dusky females making a great chattering over some particular part of the meadow” (July 1); “you must be on hand early to anticipate insects” (July 4), and “I hear my hooting owl now just before sunset. You can fancy it the most melancholy sound in Nature” (July 5).
I don’t know about you, but his use of the pronoun “you” connects me directly to Thoreau. It is as if he is talking to me over his shoulder on one of his walks. Reading in the circle of light from my reading lamp, I have the unshakeable feeling that Thoreau is writing for me alone, and at that moment I alone am able to understand his meaning. I experienced this illusion, sensation, or quale I suppose one might call it, the first time I read Walden in college. I could “hear” his voice. He was talking to me. I couldn’t put the book down. Now, after half a century, his voice is still in my mind as I read.
I sincerely hope The Thoreau Alliance is successful in its mission to spread the word about Henry David Thoreau around the globe. Of course Thoreau is for everybody. And yet, as I grow old in this troubled age there are times when I weary of what others have to say about him. I tire of sharing Thoreau with the world. At those movements I cultivate my personal connection in order to experience “my” Henry David Thoreau. The rest of you will have to excuse me, I need to be alone with Henry now.