The Thoreau You Don't Know by Robert Sullivan

Free Agency, Part 2

The response by the NYPD to the Associated Press report on the New York City police department's counter terrorism program was notable for being as petty-seeming as it claimed the A.P.'s report is.

NYPD Deputy Commissioner Paul Browne defended the city’s counter-terrorism efforts following allegations that police have been spying on Muslim communities with the CIA’s help, blaming criticism partially on petty "jealousies that success sometimes breeds.”

Maybe there is absolutely nothing to the A.P. report, which seems unlikely. I hope other news agencies follow up on it. I don't think paying attention to your police department is petty, especially since success, when it comes to civil liberties, is measured on a daily basis, rather than looking back at the term of, say, a mayor or police commissioner.

The Swamps of Jersey

I wrote a piece about the new development plans in the Meadowlands, here, which is rendered (my word) like so:

And if I am not mistaken, Rosalita is the tune that includes the following lyric" "...somewhere in the swamps of Jersey..."

Free Agency

This morning WNYC featured Matt Apuzzo, the Associated Press reporter who co-wrote this story:

Since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, the NYPD has become one of the country's most aggressive domestic intelligence agencies. A months-long investigation by The Associated Press has revealed that the NYPD operates far outside its borders and targets ethnic communities in ways that would run afoul of civil liberties rules if practiced by the federal government. And it does so with unprecedented help from the CIA in a partnership that has blurred the bright line between foreign and domestic spying. Neither the city council, which finances the department, nor the federal government, which contributes hundreds of millions of dollars each year, is told exactly what's going on.

Just out of curiosity--where were our other news organizations on this?

Downgrade

Why does the job market get such short shrift? Why do we outsource ourselves in the foot? Where is the Walden Pond we can visit that will allow us to see we cannot have a long-term solution to a debt crisis with out a short term solution wherein people have jobs, with rising debt-solving incomes? Can we worry a little less about the stock market and a little more about the job market? It's depressing, for sure, which is why humor is a kind of stimulus.

Boat Biking

Speaking of the harbor, here is a biker leading his Zodiak to the bay, shot sideways on Columbia Street in Red Hook, Brooklyn.

On the Water

On this, the anniversary of the publication of Walden, we direct your attention to the harbor of New York, which is a place that is in the city, of course, but also away, a place for reflection that necessitates association, to make a pub on the movement of Thoreau's day, led by the Associationists. Thoreau was an association of one, thinking for himself, strengthening the community by strengthening himself. Here is another great piece by Corey Kilgannon, Day one of a week that we hope goes long:

Cuckoo

In case, you don't know "The Cuckoo," which is the theme song for William Hogeland's Declaration, just out in paperback, here is this, from the Quincy Patriot-Ledger:

A talk on the book is here.

Things Noticed

Here's a post that explains this photo:

The Village is Dying

Thoreau's Concord was losing its populace, facing the onslaught of urban investment, farms dying, "country homes" sprouting like invasive weeds. Here's a version of the same story:

Bike Lanes

Concert

The Other Rats

Photos in the news of the new muskrat in the Gowanus Canal, formerly Gowanus Creek. This New York Post piece mentions the muskrats living at Brooklyn Bridge Park. Muskrat cam?

A muskrat has made a home along the toxic Brooklyn waterway’s banks by First and Bond streets, a few feet away from one of four houseboats now docked along the Gowanus that the Post reported on in Monday's edition.

Putting the O in Storm (Drains)

Toil

Field Trips

I wonder if people know that Thoreau and his brother are sometimes said to have pioneered the idea of a school field trip, at least in and around Concord, Massachusetts? Pioneered, that is, taking young people out of the school room, out to see a boat maker make a boat, out to see a surveyor survey? The Thoreau brothers were both teachers, and of course, the Transcendentalists in general thought that schooling needed reform—take Alcott, who saw the poetry of kids, the poetry that, I would argue, is often schooled out of them, even today, instead of encouraged. Even at Harvard, which Thoreau attended, things were bad, students rioting, standards low. Thoreau used to say that Harvard taught all of the branches of knowledge and none of the roots. Being a teacher, he supported teaching, and education was less a chore and more of a joy.

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The Highway Tax

Thoreau is often portrayed as a man against taxes. This is wrong. People who believe Thoreau to be anti-tax cite his essay, “Civil Disobedience.” Far from being a split from society, “Civil Disobedience” is a bold statement of citizenship, of the necessity of putting in your share, and it’s part of the formulation of the utopian vision of Walden. It is almost not about avoiding taxes. Even in skipping some taxes, Thoreau emphasized that there are other taxes he needed to pay, that he was too civil to resist. One of the best lines (or one of my favorites, anyway) has to do with the road. You wouldn’t know it in the way it has been given over to the automobile today, but the road is a public space, perhaps the first public space, and when Thoreau talks about the road in “Civil Disobedience,” the road is the connection to everything and everyone outside of himself—the road concerns the importance of staying connected. To wit: “I have never declined paying the highway tax, because I am as desirous of being a good neighbor as I am of being a bad subject; and as for supporting schools, I am doing my part to educate my fellow countrymen now.” Speaking of community, here is a passage from President Obama's recent speech, at Georgetown University, in Washington, D.C.:

But there’s always been another thread running through our history -– a belief that we’re all connected, and that there are some things we can only do together, as a nation. We believe, in the words of our first Republican President, Abraham Lincoln, that through government, we should do together what we cannot do as well for ourselves. And so we’ve built a strong military to keep us secure, and public schools and universities to educate our citizens. We’ve laid down railroads and highways to facilitate travel and commerce. We’ve supported the work of scientists and researchers whose discoveries have saved lives, unleashed repeated technological revolutions, and led to countless new jobs and entire new industries. Each of us has benefited from these investments, and we’re a more prosperous country as a result. Part of this American belief that we’re all connected also expresses itself in a conviction that each one of us deserves some basic measure of security and dignity. We recognize that no matter how responsibly we live our lives, hard times or bad luck, a crippling illness or a layoff may strike any one of us. “There but for the grace of God go I,” we say to ourselves. And so we contribute to programs like Medicare and Social Security, which guarantee us health care and a measure of basic income after a lifetime of hard work; unemployment insurance, which protects us against unexpected job loss; and Medicaid, which provides care for millions of seniors in nursing homes, poor children, those with disabilities. We’re a better country because of these commitments. I’ll go further. We would not be a great country without those commitments.

Community: can't live without it, can't live without it.

The Harbor with Accompaniment

See the harbor as it was. Sure, it was polluted as hell; swimming houses, sometimes floating docks in the harbor, mostly closed up show by the 1930s. But there was lots of economic activity. Stuff being moved that would today be moved on the highways that help us keep our locally driven mileage high, as well as our asthma and obesity rates. Imagine if the harbor was this full with ferries now? Imagine if we worked with it, rather than against it. Imagine if we included in our definition of the environment something that was along the lines of health, or, more precisely, a larger consider of the public health. And then—and this is just to much imaging, but it is spring, after all—imagine if these jobs were jobs again, and jobs with OSHA regulations, with health care? (video via Rogert Ebert's Journal)

And speaking of Tom Waits, as The Suite 16 was...

Great News

From the Times: The Great Lakes. The Mississippi River. The Chesapeake Bay. The Everglades. And now, ladies and gentlemen, the New York / New Jersey Harbor. The area’s aquatic network has been designated one of the nation’s Great Waters by a consortium of conservation groups called the America’s Great Waters Coalition .

A Year

One year in 2 minutes from Eirik Solheim on Vimeo.

You might want to turn the music down and replace it with, say, Blue in Green . Via Dave.

Thoreau in Wisconsin

A lot of people don't realize that Thoreau went to Minnesota and Wisconsin on his one and only trip west, in June 1861, described, by the Western newspapers, as the celebrated abolitionist, due in large part to his treatise on non-violent resistance. He would died within the year. I was recently reading his journals, and noticed that when a friend was being sought by federal marshalls, given a revolver and sent into hiding by local abolitionists, Thoreau stayed at his friend's sister's house, to protect her. "Lodged at Sanborn's last night, after his rescue..." (Tweet via the Awl.)

Available now from Robert Sullivan, the New York Times best selling author, and published by Harper. A description from the publisher:

What if Henry David Thoreau—America’s pioneering nature lover, the man who famously lived in a little house of his own construction—was actually pro-city rather than just a monkish introvert who wanted to be left alone in the woods? What if the man we think of as so serious and introspective was really a joker, a bit of clown, a kind of stand-up comic in his day? And what if the fact that he often went home to his family or into town for supper didn’t show him to be a cheater or a fraud as far as self-reliance goes? What if spending time with his friends and family—i.e., community—was his point all along?

Reasons that Thoreau is maybe more applicable to these troubling times than you may imagine

¶ He was living not in a peaceful time where he could just sit there and look at a pond but at a time of financial crisis, panics, even, when unemployment was first being recognized as a crisis, when people began to think that the economic system was broken—to wit, there were unemployed workers often living at Walden Pond.
¶ He was not just writing about butterflies (though he uses one to excellent, redemptive effect at Walden's end) but about how work was taking over our lives, how play was disappearing, how things like conversation were disappearing, along with sympathy, empathy and gratitude.
¶ He was very interested in gadgets, being an engineer himself--no technophobe--and living at a time of intense technological excitement.
¶ He was big on tunes, as in music, as in having a playlist, though in those days it was called a repertoire—he played a mean flute.

A Review

A mischievous reporter on the universe, Sullivan has found beauty in a notorious swamp in The Meadowlands (1998) and wisdom in an alley in Rats (2004). In his latest slyly philosophical inquiry, he endeavors to free Henry David Thoreau from his calcified reputation as a cantankerous hermit and nature worshipper. Sounding like your favorite teacher who manages to make history fun and relevant, Sullivan vibrantly portrays the sage of Walden as a geeky, curious, compassionate fellow of high intelligence and deep feelings who loved company, music, and long walks. An exceptional writer mad for puns, Thoreau
was also a bold social critic and—the crux of Sullivan’s stimulating argument—a brilliant, tongue-incheek
humorist. Sullivan, himself plenty saucy, also elucidates Thoreau’s radical focus on “man’s
interaction with nature.” In command of a great diversity of fascinating material, Sullivan succinctly illuminates the striking parallels between Thoreau’s time and ours—foreclosures, lost jobs, and rapid technological change. Thoreau remains vital and valuable because of his acute observations, wit, and lyricism and his recognition that the “force of life is everywhere,” a perception even more essential now that the consequences of the societal choices Thoreau prophetically critiqued have reached staggering proportions.--Donna Seaman, in Booklist

More from the publisher:
Henry David Thoreau is one of those authors that readers think you know, even if they don’t. He’s the solitary curmudgeon with the shack out in the woods, the mystic worshipping solemnly in the quiet church of nature. He’s our national Natural Man, the prophet of environmentalism. But here Robert Sullivan—who himself has been called an “urban Thoreau” (New York Times Book Review) presents the Thoreau you don’t know: the activist, the organizer, the gregarious adventurer, the guy who likes to go camping with friends (even if they sometimes accidentally burn the woods down). Sullivan argues that Walden was a book intended to revive America, a communal work forever pigeonholed as a reclusive one, and that this misreading is at the heart of our troubled relationship with the environment today. Sullivan shows us not a lonely eccentric but a man in his growing village, a man who danced and sang, who worked throughout his short life at the family pencil-making business, and moved into his parents’ house after leaving Walden Pond, but always paid his father rent. Passionate yet whimsical, The Thoreau You Don’t Know asks us to re-examine our everyday relationship with the natural world, and one another.