The Maine Woods
by Henry David Thoreau
1988 Penguin Nature Classics
442 pages
Thoreau’s eloquent description of
the wilderness and his journeys through it still resonates one hundred fifty
years later. It was in September 1853
that he paddled down the West Branch Penobscot to Chesuncook Lake. The Maine Woods is a posthumous
creation made up of three essays, one for each of Thoreau’s excursions to
Maine, “Ktaadn” in 1846, “Chesuncook” in 1853 and “Allegash and East Branch” in
1857.
I read The Maine Woods for
two reasons. The first would be that I
am recently transplanted to this state and am interested in all things
“Maine.” The second is that I am an
inveterate armchair traveler and this sort of book is right up my alley. I followed his progress with my DeLorme Maine
Atlas and Gazetteer, and what a time I had.
The greatest challenge in reviewing
this book is deciding what tack to take in order to navigate through it
thoroughly but with some hope of brevity.
Timeless writing defies generalization and condensation; it is
multi-layered and each word contributes.
The continued popularity and usefulness of Thoreau’s work one hundred
fifty years after it was written, is a testimony to both his modern voice and
the ageless appeal of his subject, the wilderness. Such timelessness is not easily summed up in
the proverbial nutshell; one is constantly in danger of being lured down some
byway, which does not contribute to the terseness desirable in a review. I will consider only several of many possible
perspectives from which to explore The Maine Woods.
The most obvious tack to take is to
recommend it simply for the fun of reading Thoreau’s writing. On a superficial level, it is an easy read,
the most difficult part being the pronunciation of the Indian place names and
Latin labels for fauna and flora sprinkled liberally throughout. A reader looking for an adventure story can
simply skim over these and follow in Thoreau’s steps as he and his companions
paddle up and down (or down and up) streams and rivers, challenge rapids and
falls or portage around them, climb mountains, slog through swamps, anguish
over man’s incursions, sleep and eat outdoors, overcome adversity, slay a
moose, absorb the lore of the wild, soak up the ambiance and generally enjoy a
naturalist’s dream vacation. For the
erudite and the more attentive reader, there is also great pleasure here. The Thoreau Society Bulletin, No. 223,
Fall 2000, offers a six-page analysis of two short sentences from
“Chesuncook.” (Check it out at www.calliope.org/thoreau/thoradv/woodplay) Writing that offers such manifest
opportunities for both the cursory reader and the accomplished wordsmith, and
where story and message are so painlessly interwoven, is both sophisticated and
enduring.
Another obvious angle from which to
analyze The Maine Woods is its power to inspire. Within this area, let’s consider two possible
calls to action. The first is to the
adventure traveler: “Such an excursion need not cost more than twenty-five
dollars apiece, starting at the foot of Moosehead, if you already possess or
can borrow a reasonable part of the outfit,” Thoreau says in “Appendix VI.
Outfit for an Excursion.” The second
appeal calls everyone to promote and protect the wilderness, to “see its
perfect success.”
Subsequent to reading The Maine
Woods, and inspired to “go and do likewise” in response to the first of
these calls, I was delighted to learn through Internet research that one can follow
these same routes today and see much of what Thoreau saw one hundred and fifty
years ago, and in much the same way, the only real difference being the
increased cost of the kit and the guide.
Hundreds of hikers climb Katahdin each year, but there is no road to the
top. A modern traveler will find
campsites along the rivers and lakes, but Chesuncook Village is still only
accessible by boat, and there are few roads along the shores of the Allegash or
the banks of the East Branch. Outfitters
catering to the adventure traveler abound; the number of excursions into the
wilds each year is expected to soar in the foreseeable future beyond what the
wilderness can endure. Parks are placing
quotas on the number of persons allowed entrance at any one time. Clearly the call of the wild, that Thoreau
voiced so seductively, is still a siren song.
It is harder to determine the
success of his second appeal. How many
of the thousands of acres under protection in the Maine woods today owe their
integrity to this work bearing their name?
Who can say? It is enough for our
purposes here to acknowledge that his work and words have been useful;
generations of conservationists have found inspiration and information in these
essays and much of the wilderness endures. Just as Thoreau stood on the shoulders of John
Evelyn and drew inspiration from Sylva, so have students of ecology
drawn from Thoreau and his enduring legacy.
The one hundred fiftieth
anniversary of Thoreau’s trip to Chesuncook presents a perfect excuse (as if
one were needed) to visit, or revisit, The Maine Woods.
This book review appeared in Wolf Moon Press Journal - A Maine Magazine of Art and Opinion
April, 2003
Ref. Maine, At Last - A Moving Memoir Vol. I Page 176
See Maine, At Last - A Moving Memoir
April, 2003
Ref. Maine, At Last - A Moving Memoir Vol. I Page 176
See Maine, At Last - A Moving Memoir
