Walden

“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, after all, always the first person that is speaking. I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience.”

Thoreau’s tongue-in-cheek introduction to Walden serves numerous functions. By establishing that he is the narrator, Thoreau effectively distinguishes his book from the nonfiction resources and fictional novels of his time. In 1845, novels were still a relatively new and debated form, so Thoreau likely felt the need to establish Walden as its own unique text. His introduction suggests that even though his book gestures toward a diversity of forms—including Chinese philosophy, religious texts, poetry, naturalist science, economics, and amateur sociology—these materials have all been filtered through his own perspective. He thus begins to develop the most prevailing theme of Walden: the importance of recognizing and elevating man as an individual. Just as Thoreau builds his own home and pursues an independent life on Walden Pond, he develops his book according to his individual aims, laws, and interests. He positions his voice in opposition to a capitalist society that encourages people to forget their identities.

“Actually, the laboring man has not leisure for a true integrity day by day; he cannot afford to sustain the manliest relations to men […]. He has no time to be anything but a machine. […] We should feed and clothe him gratuitously sometimes, and recruit him with our cordials, before we judge of him. The finest qualities of our nature […] can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. Yet we do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly.”

Thoreau describes how a production-motivated capitalist society keeps laborers uninformed and prevents them from recognizing this. Because working men are so absorbed in the demands of their work, they function like “machines,” never pausing to reflect or appreciate beauty.