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Sample Unit Materials on Romanticism and Gothicism (The Horror of it All)

Dr. Gingrich, AP Lang and Comp,gingrich@fultonschools.org

Texts Assignments

Into the Wild by Krakauer

Stories and Poems by Gothic/Romantic

Writers including Hawthorne, Bierce,

Dickinson, Poe, Whitman, Irving

Essays and stories by Stephen King

Video Clips from Horror Films

It, Stranger Things, Walking Dead

Essays by Thoreau and

Narrative Writing (Gothic Story)

Gothic Story Group Presentation

Rhetorical Analysis Writing (use stories as

models) write on Sample AP prompt

Argumentative Essay on Into The Wild

Socratic Seminar on Into The Wild and

Transcendentalism

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 1

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door --

Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; -- vainly I had tried to borrow 2

From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore --

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore --

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; 3

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door --

Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door; --

This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; 4

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you " -- here I opened wide the door; ----

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; 5

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But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" --

Merely this, and nothing more.

Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; 6

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore --

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--

'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, 7

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door --

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door --

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 8

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore --

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

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Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning -- little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door --

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore." 10

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered -- not a feather then he fluttered --

Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before --

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."

Quoth the raven "Nevermore." 11

Wondering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 12

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster so when Hope he would adjure --

Stern Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure --

That sad answer, "Never -- nevermore."

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But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, 13

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 14

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 15

Swung by Angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite -- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;

Let me quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if bird or devil! -- 16

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted --

On this home by Horror haunted -- tell me truly, I implore --

Is there -- is there balm in Gilead? -- tell me -- tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil -- prophet still, if bird or devil! 17

By that Heaven that bends above us -- by that God we both adore --

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore --

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."

Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting -- 18

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the raven "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 19

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,

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And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted -- nevermore!

~~~ End of Text ~~~

O Captain! My Captain! Related Poem Content Details

BY WALT WHITMAN

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

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Romantic or Gothic Story

Rough Draft is due Monday, September 26th beginning of the period. In lab Friday

23rd

2nd Draft is due Friday, September 30th 4pm

Write a story of 3-5 pages in the style of the Romantic Writers or of the Dark

Romantics/Gothic Writers. The following is a guide of characteristics for the story.

Stories will be graded on originality, description and detail, quality and sophistication of

writing, and illustration of Romantic/Gothic characteristics.

Romantic—An Escapism from dull reality to higher realms

Values feeling and intuition over reason

Places faith in inner experience and the power of the imagination

Emphasizes individual freedom

Is very sympathetic toward the past

Believes in primitivism/noble savage

Mysticism

A Love of nature

The Romantic Hero has the following characteristics:

• Young, or possesses youthful qualities

• Innocent and Pure of purpose

• Sense of honor based not on society’s rules but on some higher purpose

• Knowledge of people and of life based not on society’s rules but on some higher

principle

• Knowledge of people based and of life based on deep, intuitive understanding, not on

formal learning

• Loves nature and abhors town life/society

• Quests for some higher truth in the natural world

Gothic Story

Most gothic novels or stories tales of mystery and horror and include the elements of

• the supernatural,

• wild and desolate landscapes (dark forests, feudal halls, mysterious castles),

• monstrous apparitions and curses

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• stupefying atmosphere of doom and gloom

• heroes and heroines in the direst of imaginable straits—who do not always triumph

• wicked villain (witches, monsters, evil lords and ladies)

• a keen focus on the gloomy atmosphere and setting

Romantic Gothic Story Starter/Graphic Organizer

Story Title

Writer’s Name

Story Elements Gothic Romantic Characteristics

Hero/Heroine

Physical Qualities

Internal Qualities

Antagonist

Physical Qualities

Internal Qualities

Setting

Time

Place

Conflict

Plot

3 Key Events

List Three different Romantic/Gothic

Characteristics that you will use and explain

how you will use them

Characteristic One:

Characteristic Two:

Characteristic Three:

Rhetorical Devices—Write two sentences

using a rhetorical device

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Scoring Guide for Romanticism/Gothicism Story

“4”

A story in this category is very creative, imaginative, and descriptive. This paper shows a strong

understanding of the Romantic/Gothic categories and integrates those aspects in the story in a

highly sophisticated and effective manner. Images, style, and description make a powerful

impression on the reader. The reader is highly engaged with the story from the outset and

maintains their interest throughout the reading. Characters, setting, and plot are extremely

engaging and developed. Grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure do not interfere with

reading.

“3”

A story in this category is very creative, imaginative, and descriptive. This paper shows a some

understanding of the Romantic/Gothic categories and integrates those aspects in the story in a

sophisticated and effective manner. Images are clear, crisp, and make a strong impression on the

reader. The reader is highly engaged with the story from the outset and maintains their interest

throughout most of the reading, with few lapses in interest. Characters, setting, and plot are well

developed and explained. Grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure do not interfere with

reading.

“2”

A story in this category shows limited creativity, imagination, and description. This paper shows

a little understanding of the Romantic/Gothic categories but may not connect those ideas to the

story very effectively. Images may tell not show, and may not make much impression on the

reader. The reader might find the story slightly interesting or may find it highly interesting but

hard to follow. Characters, setting, and plot may need more explanation and development.

Grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure may interfere with the reader’s comprehension.

“1”

A story in this category may not use any of the Romantic/Gothic features, may not be at all

imaginative, may not have any development, or may have serious grammatical problems which

may make it impossible to read.

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AP Practice Test over Romanticism/Gothicism/Transcendentalism

Select One of the following options and write a complete in-class essay on the topic. Use

specific examples in your responses. At the beginning of your essay, identify the option

you are doing, and the number of the quote/passage to which you are responding.

Option A: Read each below quote. Select one quote and explain how that represents a

particular philosophy—romanticism, gothicism, or transcendentalism. Then discuss

whether you support, refute, or qualify this statement. (Support =agree, refute=disagree,

qualify = support or refute but with some limitations, qualifications) using specific

examples from your knowledge, experience, and readings.

1. “The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is its aversion. It loves not realities

and creators, but names and customs.”

2. “If a man does not keep pace with his companion, perhaps it is because he hears a different

drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured, or far away.”

3. “Be true! Be true! Be true! Show freely to the world, if not your worst, yet some trait whereby

the worst may be inferred!”

Option B: Select one of the following passages. In an essay (a.) analyze the rhetorical

devices in the passage, (b.) explain the extent to which the passage is romantic, gothic, or

transcendental and (c). discuss the effectiveness of the passage in impacting the reader and

supporting the author’s purpose.

Passage One: I was witness to events of a less peaceful character. One day when I went out to my wood-pile,

or rather my pile of stumps, I observed two large ants, the one red, the other much larger, nearly

half an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with one another. Having once got hold they

never let go, but struggled and wrestled and rolled on the chips incessantly. Looking farther, I

was surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants, that it was not a

duellum, but a bellum, a war between two races of ants, the red always pitted against the black,

and frequently two red ones to one black. The legions of these Myrmidons covered all the hills

and vales in my wood-yard, and the ground was already strewn with the dead and dying, both red

and black. It was the only battle which I have ever witnessed, the only battle-field I ever trod

while the battle was raging; internecine war; the red republicans on the one hand, and the black

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imperialists on the other. On every side they were engaged in deadly combat, yet without any

noise that I could hear, and human soldiers never fought so resolutely. I watched a couple that

were fast locked in each other`s embraces, in a little sunny valley amid the chips, now at

noonday prepared to fight till the sun went down, or life went out. The smaller red champion had

fastened himself like a vice to his adversary`s front, and through all the tumblings on that field

never for an instant ceased to gnaw at one of his feelers near the root, having already caused the

other to go by the board; while the stronger black one dashed him from side to side, and, as I saw

on looking nearer, had already divested him of several of his members. They fought with more

pertinacity than bulldogs. Neither manifested the least disposition to retreat. It was evident that

their battle-cry was "Conquer or die." In the meanwhile there came along a single red ant on the

hillside of this valley, evidently full of excitement, who either had despatched his foe, or had not

yet taken part in the battle; probably the latter, for he had lost none of his limbs; whose mother

had charged him to return with his shield or upon it. Or perchance he was some Achilles, who

had nourished his wrath apart, and had now come to avenge or rescue his Patroclus. He saw this

unequal combat from afar -- for the blacks were nearly twice the size of the red -- he drew near

with rapid pace till be stood on his guard within half an inch of the combatants; then, watching

his opportunity, he sprang upon the black warrior, and commenced his operations near the root

of his right fore leg, leaving the foe to select among his own members; and so there were three

united for life, as if a new kind of attraction had been invented which put all other locks and

cements to shame. I should not have wondered by this time to find that they had their respective

musical bands stationed on some eminent chip, and playing their national airs the while, to excite

the slow and cheer the dying combatants. I was myself excited somewhat even as if they had

been men. The more you think of it, the less the difference. And certainly there is not the fight

recorded in Concord history, at least, if in the history of America, that will bear a moment`s

comparison with this, whether for the numbers engaged in it, or for the patriotism and heroism

displayed.

Passage 2.

“Not hear it?—yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long—long—long—many minutes, many hours,

many days, have I heard it—yet I dared not—oh, pity me, miserable wretch that I am!—I dared

not speak. We have put her living in the tomb! Said I not that my senses were acute? I now tell

you that I heard her first feeble movements in the hollow coffin. I heard them—many, many days

ago—yet I dared not—I dared not speak! And now—to-night—Ethelred—ha! ha!—the breaking

of the hermit’s door, and the death-cry of the dragon, and the clangour of the shield!—say,

rather, the rending of her coffin, and the grating of the iron hinges of her prison, and her

struggles within the coppered archway of the vault. O whither shall I fly? Will she not be here

anon? Is she not hurrying to upbraid me for my haste? Have I not heard her footstep on the stair?

Do I not distinguish that heavy and horrible beating of her heart? Madman!” Here he sprang

furiously to his feet, and shrieked out his syllables, as if in the effort he were giving up his

soul—“Madman! I tell you that she now stands without the door!”As if in the superhuman

energy of his utterance there had been found the potency of a spell—the huge antique panels to

which the speaker pointed, threw slowly back, upon the instant, their ponderous and ebony jaws.

It was the work of the rushing gust—but then without those doors there did stand the lofty and

enshrouded figure of the lady Madeline of Usher. There was blood upon her white robes, and the

evidence of some bitter struggle upon every portion of her emaciated frame. For a moment she

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remained trembling and reeling to and fro upon the threshold—then, with a low moaning cry, fell

heavily inward upon the person of her brother, and in her violent and now final death-agonies,

bore him to the floor a corpse, and a victim to the terrors he had anticipated. From that chamber

and from that mansion I fled aghast. The storm was still abroad in all its wrath as I found myself

crossing the old causeway. Suddenly there shot along the path a wild light, and I turned to see

whence a gleam so unusual could have issued, for the vast house and its shadows were alone

behind me. The radiance was that of the full, setting, and blood-red moon, which now shone

vividly through that once barely-discernible fissure, of which I have before spoken as extending

from the roof of the building in a zigzag direction to the base. While I gazed, this fissure rapidly

widened; there came a fierce breath of the whirlwind; the entire orb of the satellite burst at once

upon my sight; my brain reeled as I saw the mighty walls rushing asunder; there was a long

tumultuous shouting sound like the voice of a thousand waters, and the deep and dark tarn at my

feet closed sullenly and silent over the fragments of the “House of Usher.”

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Close Reading of Into The Wild Chapter 1-10 Gingrich, AP Lang 2015

Use highlight/pencils with own book; sticky notes with school book. For your section, what is

Krakauer’s purpose in writing this passage. What rhetorical strategies does Krakauer utilize (

devices, syntax, tone, and diction).

Section 1 (begins at the beginning of chapter 1 and ends page 4 “that cares nothing for

hope and longing.”

• Circle the nouns in the postcard. What chronology do they present of his experience? What does he mean by the last sentence of the postcard? Why does the author begin with this postcard?

• What relevant information does Gallien offer to the passage?

• Explain the rhetorical devices in the last paragraph (imagery, metaphor, allusion, and personification) identify them, explain how they are used, and why they are used—how they connect to the author’s purpose and the tone of the passage.

Section 2 (begins chapter 7 page 66 “Chastity…” and ends “And thus was he drawn to

Alaska”)

• Underline the words which describe the feelings about nature

• What is being compared here? Why does the author make this comparisons?

• What impression of McCandless does this passage leave us with (what qualities of McCandless ae emphasized?)

Passage Three (beginning of Chapter 10 to “Hey, I think I gave that guy a ride” p. 99 and

then last paragraph).

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• Circle the words in the opening which have to do with the identity of the individual. What tone do they create? How is this different from the tone we have regarding Chris in the book?

• What is Gallien’s reaction? Why is he a significant figure in the story?

• In the final paragraph what is Krakauer’s reaction? How does this differ from what we see in the news article?

Activity One: Into The Wild compared to “Self-Reliance” and the “World is Too Much With Us

“

Dr. Gingrich, AP Lang and Comp 1. “Self-Reliance” by Ralph Waldo Emerson on pp 369-370 in the textbook

A. How would you define self-reliance? Do you think it is better to be self-reliant or to be

dependent? Is it possible to actually be completely self-reliant in our society? To what degree

would you consider yourself self-reliant?

B. Read the passage from Self-Reliance

C. Which statements do you think are most pertinent from the passage?

D. Do you agree that “to be great is to be misunderstood?”

E. Was Chris McCandless both great and misunderstood? Was he self-reliant?

2. Read the following Poem by William Wordsworth, one of the founding British Romantic Poets.

A. What does the poem say about self-reliance and materialism?

B. Write a poetic response to the poem from Chris’s point of view. Use at least two specific events

from Into the Wild in your response.

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Emerson “Self-Reliance”

There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried. Not for nothing one face, one character, one fact, makes much impression on him, and another none. This sculpture in the memory is not without preestablished harmony. The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might testify of that particular ray. We but half express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. It may be safely trusted as proportionate and of good issues, so it be faithfully imparted, but God will not have his work made manifest by cowards. A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best; but what he has said or done otherwise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him; no muse befriends; no invention, no hope.

Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny; and not minors and invalids in a protected corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but guides, redeemers, and benefactors, obeying the Almighty effort, and advancing on Chaos and the Dark.

Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members. Society is a joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better securing of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture of the eater. The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is its aversion. It loves not realities and creators, but names and customs.

Whoso would be a man must be a nonconformist. He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have the suffrage of the world.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it

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contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.

THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US

by: William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

HE world is too much with us: late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. -- Great God! I'd rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

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Thoreau and Into the Wild

When Chris was in third grade he was placed in a gifted class. He tried to have himself removed

from the program because it meant his having to do extra work. In a conference with his parent,

a teacher said, “’Chris marches to a different drummer. She just shook her head” (Krakauer, p.

107).

• What does it mean for Chris to march to a different drummer? Is he a conformist or a

nonconformist in his actions?

• Look at the notes on Transcendentalism. What of the philosophies of Transcendentalism did

Chris seem to embrace?

Read over the passage from Walden in the text beginning on page 385.

• How does Thoreau view nature? How are his views similar or different from Chris with respect

to viewing life? Has Chris lived his life according to Thoreau’s doctrine? P.

Read Civil Disobedience pp. 388-89

What are Thoreau’s views on government? Are these practical?

While at Emory, Chris adopted the final tenant of Thoreau’s on page 122. How does this

philosophy guide his move to Alaska?

How is Alaska a symbol for Chris? In what ways are his adventures contrasted with those of

Krakauer? Pp 136-155

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Conclusion of Walden Pond by Henry David Thoreaus

[4] I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. Perhaps it seemed to me

that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more time for that one. It

is remarkable how easily and insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a

beaten track for ourselves. I had not lived there a week before my feet wore a path

from my door to the pond-side; and though it is five or six years since I trod it, it is

still quite distinct. It is true, I fear, that others may have fallen into it, and so helped to

keep it open. The surface of the earth is soft and impressible by the feet of men; and

so with the paths which the mind travels. How worn and dusty, then, must be the

highways of the world, how deep the ruts of tradition and conformity! I did not wish

to take a cabin passage, but rather to go before the mast and on the deck of the world,

for there I could best see the moonlight amid the mountains. I do not wish to go below

now.

[5] I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the

direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will

meet with a success unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind,

will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to

establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and

interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a

higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe

will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor

weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost;

that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them….

[10] Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed and in such desperate

enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he

hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however

measured or far away. It is not important that he should mature as soon as an apple

tree or an oak. Shall he turn his spring into summer? If the condition of things which

we were made for is not yet, what were any reality which we can substitute? We will

not be shipwrecked on a vain reality. Shall we with pains erect a heaven of blue glass

over ourselves, though when it is done we shall be sure to gaze still at the true ethereal

heaven far above, as if the former were not?...

[13] However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard

names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-

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finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps

have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is

reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man's abode;

the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may

live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. The town's

poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. Maybe they are

simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above

being supported by the town; but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting

themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate poverty

like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether

clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell

your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do not want society. If I

were confined to a corner of a garret all my days, like a spider, the world would be

just as large to me while I had my thoughts about me. The philosopher (19) said: "From

an army of three divisions one can take away its general, and put it in disorder; from

the man the most abject and vulgar one cannot take away his thought." Do not seek so

anxiously to be developed, to subject yourself to many influences to be played on; it is

all dissipation. Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. The shadows of

poverty and meanness gather around us, "and lo! creation widens to our view."(20) We

are often reminded that if there were bestowed on us the wealth of Croesus,(21) our

aims must still be the same, and our means essentially the same. Moreover, if you are

restricted in your range by poverty, if you cannot buy books and newspapers, for

instance, you are but confined to the most significant and vital experiences; you are

compelled to deal with the material which yields the most sugar and the most starch. It

is life near the bone where it is sweetest. You are defended from being a trifler. No

man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity on a higher. Superfluous wealth can

buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul…

[18] The life in us is like the water in the river. It may rise this year higher than man

has ever known it, and flood the parched uplands; even this may be the eventful year,

which will drown out all our muskrats. It was not always dry land where we dwell. I

see far inland the banks which the stream anciently washed, before science began to

record its freshets. Every one has heard the story which has gone the rounds of New

England, of a strong and beautiful bug which came out of the dry leaf of an old table

of apple-tree wood, which had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first in

Connecticut, and afterward in Massachusetts — from an egg deposited in the living

tree many years earlier still, as appeared by counting the annual layers beyond it;

which was heard gnawing out for several weeks, hatched perchance by the heat of an

urn. Who does not feel his faith in a resurrection and immortality strengthened by

hearing of this? Who knows what beautiful and winged life, whose egg has been

buried for ages under many concentric layers of woodenness in the dead dry life of

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society, deposited at first in the alburnum of the green and living tree, which has been

gradually converted into the semblance of its well-seasoned tomb — heard perchance

gnawing out now for years by the astonished family of man, as they sat round the

festive board — may unexpectedly come forth from amidst society's most trivial and

handselled furniture, to enjoy its perfect summer life at last!

[19] I do not say that John or Jonathan (26) will realize all this; but such

is the character of that morrow which mere lapse of time can never make

to dawn. The light which puts out our eyes is darkness to us. Only that

day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun

is but a morning star.

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Thoreau Civil Disobedience

I HEARTILY ACCEPT the motto, — "That government is best which governs least";(1) and I

should like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically. Carried out, it finally amounts

to this, which also I believe, — "That government is best which governs not at all"; and when

men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which they will have. Government is

at best but an expedient; but most governments are usually, and all governments are sometimes,

inexpedient. The objections which have been brought against a standing army, and they are many

and weighty, and deserve to prevail, may also at last be brought against a standing government.

The standing army is only an arm of the standing government. The government itself, which is

only the mode which the people have chosen to execute their will, is equally liable to be abused

and perverted before the people can act through it. Witness the present Mexican war,(2) the work

of comparatively a few individuals using the standing government as their tool; for, in the outset,

the people would not have consented to this measure.

[2] This American government — what is it but a tradition, though a recent one, endeavoring to

transmit itself unimpaired to posterity, but each instant losing some of its integrity? It has not the

vitality and force of a single living man; for a single man can bend it to his will. It is a sort of

wooden gun to the people themselves. But it is not the less necessary for this; for the people must

have some complicated machinery or other, and hear its din, to satisfy that idea of government

which they have. Governments show thus how successfully men can be imposed on, even

impose on themselves, for their own advantage. It is excellent, we must all allow. Yet this

government never of itself furthered any enterprise, but by the alacrity with which it got out of its

way. It does not keep the country free. It does not settle the West. It does not educate. The

character inherent in the American people has done all that has been accomplished; and it would

have done somewhat more, if the government had not sometimes got in its way. For government

is an expedient by which men would fain succeed in letting one another alone; and, as has been

said, when it is most expedient, the governed are most let alone by it. Trade and commerce, if

they were not made of India rubber,(3) would never manage to bounce over the obstacles which

legislators are continually putting in their way; and, if one were to judge these men wholly by the

effects of their actions, and not partly by their intentions, they would deserve to be classed and

punished with those mischievous persons who put obstructions on the railroads.

[3] But, to speak practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government

men,(4) I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government. Let every man

make known what kind of government would command his respect, and that will be one step

toward obtaining it.

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