Oh, Thoreau. You did it again, you sly devil. I realized something
this morning. There is something satirically comedic about much of what our
Henry writes about. He talks about society much like our modern day comedians
talk about ours today—the same kind of witty unearthing of hypocrisy and
identification of objectionable, even ridiculous systems.
Thoreau bemoans the fact that while political economy is
studied in college, no philosophy of how to actually live economically is learned. “The
consequence is, that while he is reading Adam Smith, Ricardo, and Say, he runs
his father in debt irretrievably” (33). Boom.
He then goes into talking about how our modern inventions are nothing
more than comely distractions that move us ever away from the essential things
in life. The joke comes in then about new modes of communication: “We are in
great haste to construct a magnetic telegraph from Maine to Texas; but Maine
and Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate” (34). Ha!
In his section on “Economy” in Walden, Thoreau brings to light
the fact that the size of a dorm room at Cambridge College is about the same
size of his own little house, and is able to have one roof over all 32 rooms, yet the college is able to charge the student
a considerable sum because of the situation. The occupant must then deal with
noisy neighbors to the sides and above (unlike him, of course) without having
gained much of anything, that the other 31 students haven’t also gotten. He
believes that with some wisdom, the expense of education and the real education
of life could at the same time be lessened and increased, respectively. He
suggests, in fact, that what the student most wants is often the thing that costs the least (32).
Thoreau recognizes that the real learning of life lies outside
any school walls, and that the “student who secures his coveted leisure and
retirement by systematically shirking any labor necessary to man obtains but an
ignoble and unprofitable leisure, defrauding himself of the experience which
alone can make leisure fruitful” (33). He continues on to say one should not “play life, or study it merely, while the
community supports them at this expensive game, but earnestly live it…”(33). That’s the key, though,
isn’t it: college seems to just be an expensive game, creating individuals that
are ignorant of the real world, despite their dollars and cents to the
contrary.
Then, if one’s life’s debt is to work to pay for that limited
education, Henry wonders if it balances out. Also questionable is this notion of
working until retirement: “This spending of the best part of one’s life earning
money to enjoy a questionable liberty during the least valuable part of it…” (35). Bam.
These are some good points, my friend; relatable as much today as then.
Thanks Henry, you wise comedian, you.
And yet, it all seems more sad than funny.
