The Maine Woods (Penguin Nature Library)

by Henry David Thoreau, Edward Hoagland

Release Date: September, 1988

Edition: Paperback

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Live Like a Philosopher

This screed from Thoreau is obviously not as classic as his work on Walden, but here we may be seeing the beginning of the travelogue business. Thoreau is often misrepresented (by those who haven't read his works, or have read them too many times) as a hardcore back-to-nature hermit who lived off the land and rejected civilization. One read of his Walden story disproves that stereotype, and in this work about three trips to Maine's wild country, we can surely see Thoreau's social side all the more. At the time, the Maine Woods were surely a thrilling landscape ripe for exploration and adventure, and Thoreau gives us an enjoyable travelogue of his ramblings and recreations. A bonus is great coverage of the Indians of the area, especially Thoreau's longtime traveling colleague Joe Ponis. The only problem here is that Thoreau's introspective naturalist philosophy is mostly missing at this stage of his career, and he pretty much accidentally invents descriptive travel writing instead. This is still a worthy exploration if you're interested in the Maine Woods either as they were then or if you wish to explore them today. But Thoreau's classic naturalism is better found in his other works. [~doomsdayer520~]

Travel wild rivers with Thoreau.

One day I took my children to Disneyland, found the quietest corner of the Material Kingdom, and read The Maine Woods. I read it later in the shadows of Ktaadn. In each case I found myself fading into damp, 19th century forests, cataloging with Thoreau the flora of central Maine.
Few could be the equal of Thoreau in making an account of wilderness travels: "The Jesuit missionaries used to say, that, in their journeys with the Indians in Canada, they lay on a bed which had never been shaken up since the creation, unless by earthquakes. It is surprising with what impunity and comfort one who has always lain in a warm bed in a close apartment ... can lie down on the ground without a shelter, roll himself in a blanket ... in a frosty, autumn night ... and even come soon to enjoy and value the fresh air."
The pace of the book is slow but rich in natural wonder: "Once, when we were listening for moose, we heard, come faintly echoing ... a dull, dry, rushing sound, with a solid core to it, yet as if half smothered under the grasp of the luxuriant and fungus-like forest, like the shutting of a door in some distant entry of the damp and shaggy wilderness. If we bad not been there, no mortal had heard it. When we asked Joe in a whisper what it was, he answered, 'Tree fall.' There is something singularly grand and impressive in the sound of a tree falling in a perfectly calm night..."