Early drafts have been uncovered of the transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau’s masterpiece “Walden” which reveal startling new details about the author’s experiences living alone for over two years in a cabin.
Some of the most famous passages were found perfectly intact in the earlier drafts:
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.”
Yet, other passages exist which appear to have been excised from the finished novel:
“However, in the course of my sojourn, it did occur that should there exist the technology, mayhap necessity, of a radio-frequency based communication system through which one might exchange images, monologues, and reciprocal commentary, or possibly some type of interactive literary pursuit or confectionery-themed bludgeoning avocation with other like-minded journeymen on a similar quest of self-discovery…that one would think, in some meaningful way, that the perception of time might appear to proceed more hastily. Lacking such accommodation, one’s imagination is forced to conjure images of meticulously arranged meals or playful felines that said technology might have otherwise provided. Conceivably, is there the possibility that I am orating, perchance, from the most remote regions of my colon?”
Also found within the box of unreleased drafts was a yellow parchment inscribed with a two year calendar, with an “X” over each day and many notes off to the side, including profane references and unpleasant caricatures complete with horns and tail, regarding some “bastard” named Ralph.
Similar to Thoreau, I’ve lived alone full-time in a cabin for two years, thereby knowing the term, “Cabin fever,” in all its glory. Just the other day Hank and I texted about the spiders emanating from the walls from this sensory-deprived self-imposed exile. He did plagiarize me quite a bit in his book.
Awesome.
The Internet as a cure for cabin fever? I wonder why doctors haven’t discovered this.
Works for me!