Publisher's Synopsis
WALDENEconomyWhen I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I livedalone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I hadbuilt myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only. I lived there twoyears and two months. At present I am a sojourner in civilized lifeagain.I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of my readers ifvery particular inquiries had not been made by my townsmen concerningmy mode of life, which some would call impertinent, though they do notappear to me at all impertinent, but, considering the circumstances, very natural and pertinent. Some have asked what I got to eat; if I didnot feel lonesome; if I was not afraid; and the like. Others have beencurious to learn what portion of my income I devoted to charitablepurposes; and some, who have large families, how many poor children Imaintained. I will therefore ask those of my readers who feel noparticular interest in me to pardon me if I undertake to answer some ofthese questions in this book. In most books, the _I_, or first person, is omitted; in this it will be retained; that, in respect to egotism, is the main difference. We commonly do not remember that it is, afterall, always the first person that is speaking. I should not talk somuch about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well.Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of myexperience. Moreover, I, on my side, require of every writer, first orlast, a simple and sincere account of his own life, and not merely whathe has heard of other men's lives; some such account as he would sendto his kindred from a distant land; for if he has lived sincerely, itmust have been in a distant land to me. Perhaps these pages are moreparticularly addressed to poor students. As for the rest of my readers, they will accept such portions as apply to them. I trust that none willstretch the seams in putting on the coat, for it may do good service tohim whom it fits.I would fain say something, not so much concerning the Chinese andSandwich Islanders as you who read these pages, who are said to live inNew England; something about your condition, especially your outwardcondition or circumstances in this world, in this town, what it is, whether it is necessary that it be as bad as it is, whether it cannotbe improved as well as not. I have travelled a good deal in Concord;and everywhere, in shops, and offices, and fields, the inhabitants haveappeared to me to be doing penance in a thousand remarkable ways. WhatI have heard of Brahmins sitting exposed to four fires and looking inthe face of the sun; or hanging suspended, with their heads downward, over flames; or looking at the heavens over their shoulders "until itbecomes impossible for them to resume their natural position, whilefrom the twist of the neck nothing but liquids can pass into thestomach;" or dwelling, chained for life, at the foot of a tree; ormeasuring with their bodies, like caterpillars, the breadth of vastempires; or standing on one leg on the tops of pillars, -even theseforms of conscious penance are hardly more incredible and astonishingthan the scenes which I daily witness. The twelve labors of Herculeswere trifling in comparison with those which my neighbors haveundertaken; for they were only twelve, and had an end; but I couldnever see that these men slew or captured any monster or finished anylabor. They have no friend Iolas to burn with a hot iron the root ofthe hydra's head, but as soon as one head is crushed, two spring up.
