Toads Revisited (revisited)

"Why should I let the toad work Squat upon my life?" (Toads, Philip Larkin)

Philip Larkin's Toads (and his Toads Revisited) have inhabited some small corner of my brain since Jeremy (one of my dons at University) placed them there circa 1985. They pay no rent. I wonder whether he actually intended that? He was a genius, no question. He once announced that my writing lacked, well, a certain . . . everything. "This might as well have been written in Laplandese," was his exact assessment. He placed that in my brain, too.

Having three college-aged kids has prompted me to circle back to some of the literature I skimmed (or pretended to skim) in college -- making a mental note to go back and actually read it. In the past bit, I went on a Dickens tear; then Twain; then Thackery, then O.Henry, P.G. Wodehouse, and a few others. It has been a nice break from more scientific works. Walden seemed like just the thing, having recently encamped nearby (Billerica, MA, 15 miles distant).

It is usually while shifting uncomfortably in airport chairs, or bouncing around inside a cab that Larkin's words shake loose and bounce around my brain. Work sits and squats upon my life. Thoreau had the same, if less visual, thought on his mind (men strapped to oxen, being pulled through fields turning up more earth than required to feed themselves). History seems littered with prophets carping about profits. Why do we need surplus, and why are we all wage slaves? It is difficult to not resent work; especially when pulling on my socks in the dark each morning.

Should I resent work? Should I see it (as I often do) as an interesting pass-time and distraction -- something to occupy otherwise idle hours spent on this rock called Earth? I have dedicated a good part of my life to working from the neck up. Did I gain from that bargain? I like being outdoors, and yet am shut inside most of my waking hours.

I can certainly see the appeal Thoreau held for the generations (like the 60s generation) who held him up as their guide. Even Lincoln had his doubts about whether being apprenticed was such a terrific idea (though Lincoln and Thoreau were contemporaries, I don't find much to suggest one read much of the others' works). I am drawn to the notion that perhaps the only way to "win" in the game of work is to not "play." Instead of laboring to enrich an employer, or the state (Thoreau omits the bits about his prison stretch for not paying taxes), I see the wisdom of laboring only "on my own hook," to borrow from Lincoln.

And, in the end, it's my Toad, not somebody else's that takes me by the arm and walks me down the cemetery road. So, I need to get back to work. . . .