Reveries of the Solitary Walker
I have to
say I am starting to get fed up with Rousseau.
The “Reveries
of the Solitary Walker” is the third book from Jean-Jacques Rousseau on the
List and, I get it, he was an influential personality during the Enlightenment,
but you can only take so much complaining from a dude.
From the
onset of doing this List I have been a bit confused what exactly made books
qualify for the List. Does it have to be a novel or fiction? Why have important
early works been omitted? Religious texts, fables, legends, science etc. To me
it seems a bit random what qualifies and what does not yet in the case of Rousseau
apparently anything goes. “Julie” was a novel, “Emile” was a philosophical work,
“Reveries of the Solitary Walker” is a… not really certain… a defense? Or just
plain complaining? And later on there will be a fourth that looks to me like an
autobiography. There are many versions of the List, but they all seem to
include all four books. Somebody must think this dude is really important.
As I
understand it, Rousseau wrote “Reveries of the Solitary Walker” to defend
himself against his persecutors. He is quite convinced that there are enemies
around every corner and their entire purpose is to make his life miserable.
Considering most of this book is devoted to these persecutors it is remarkable
that we never learn why they are out to get him, what it is they claim Rousseau
has done to them or even what it is exactly they do, except that they are
everywhere.
Hmmm… I think
that is called paranoia.
Rousseau’s
escape from all this persecution is to dream away, to get absorbed in his own
thoughts, whether these are thoughts on botany, past joys, children or
fundamental concepts such as being a good person or happiness. When Rousseau
does get absorbed in these thoughts it is almost pleasant to read, but it never
lasts long. Eventually complaints sneak in and take over and we are back to all
the people hell bent on ruining his life.
Still
Rousseau insists that he has found his escape and that they cannot touch him now.
In fact, the more they try, the less he cares. Except he does care, because
this is what all this book is about. Like a little boy repeating, I am not
afraid, I am not afraid, I am not afraid, which of course means he is very much
afraid.
There was precious
little to take away from all this ranting. I did enjoy his arguing why botany
is the only natural science worth pursuing when you are a lonely old man,
mostly because of the amusing images he paints of why it will not do for him to
roam mines and chemistry labs or chasing animal to cut them up.
The rest was
just pages I had to get through.
There must
be better books to add to this list.