On any given day, you can stumble onto a blog and see a fantastic quote pulled from the pages of Walden; or, Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau. Quotes I love and use myself. Quotes like these:

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.

How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.

Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify.

But I never read the book. Scandalous, right? It sure feels scandalous now.

Thoreau wrote this book in 1854, when much of the country was the kind of simple we now strive to become, yet he wished to escape from. In it he talks about anything from building his cabin, watching the animals, growing his own food and living simply, all from the perspective of a 19th century philosopher. Sounding heavenly? Promising, maybe?

I borrowed it from the library. Every fiber of my being told me I should love this book; told me within its worn and folded pages I’d finds nuggets of knowledge and inspiration. I thought for sure it would have me running to the hills in search of nature and solitude, at the very least.

Want to know my honest thoughts on Walden? I can’t believe I’m saying this…

I couldn’t stand it. I disliked it so much, I didn’t even finish it. (I don’t even know if those quotes come from this book, I just happen to like them!)

I told you it was scandalous. This dirt-worshippin’, tree-huggin’, cloth toilet paperin’, classic novel lovin’, Earth Mama retches at the thought of picking up a book renowned by eco-junkies everywhere for it’s theme of simplicity, self-reliance and conservation. Why?

I have never read so many pages of self-congratulatory, condescending, cynical or judgmental words in any other book! (No, I’ve never read Ann Coulter.)

Every page I managed to finish, instead of filled with wisdom or insight as I was hoping, was filled with one more reason why he was so much better than his neighbor; how he had it figured out and one-upped the other guy with his genius. It whined of childish rivalry, rather than the enlightened passion I was hoping to find. It was annoying. And it didn’t seem to end.

I couldn’t finish it. I can’t remember the last time I gave myself (or so badly wanted) permission to quit a book. And nothing you could say – I don’t care if I was two paragraphs away from the good stuff – can convince me to waste my time reading any more arrogance of that magnitude. I know he railed against some of the same things I sometimes loathe and did some of the same things I wish to do. But was it necessary to rub people’s face in it?

From now on, when I’m in need of homesteading inspiration, I’ll stick to Thoraeu for *quotes* and bloggers for inspiration.

You guys rock my face off. Walden, not so much.

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