{"id":108644,"date":"2017-07-10T12:13:34","date_gmt":"2017-07-10T16:13:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/?p=108644"},"modified":"2017-07-11T14:06:18","modified_gmt":"2017-07-11T18:06:18","slug":"chute-thoreau-heat-wave-in-concord","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/2017\/07\/10\/chute-thoreau-heat-wave-in-concord\/","title":{"rendered":"Celebrate Thoreau&#8217;s 200th birthday with a summer poem from a Bates author"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_108677\" style=\"width: 252px\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/2017\/07\/10\/chute-thoreau-heat-wave-in-concord\/benjamin_d-_maxham_-_henry_david_thoreau_-_restored\/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-108677\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-108677\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-108677\" src=\"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/Benjamin_D._Maxham_-_Henry_David_Thoreau_-_Restored-242x300.jpg\" alt=\"Henry David Thoreau, photographed in 1856 by Benjamin D. Maxham (Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)\" width=\"242\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/Benjamin_D._Maxham_-_Henry_David_Thoreau_-_Restored-242x300.jpg 242w, https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/Benjamin_D._Maxham_-_Henry_David_Thoreau_-_Restored-727x900.jpg 727w, https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/Benjamin_D._Maxham_-_Henry_David_Thoreau_-_Restored-161x200.jpg 161w, https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/Benjamin_D._Maxham_-_Henry_David_Thoreau_-_Restored.jpg 872w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 242px) 100vw, 242px\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-108677\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Henry David Thoreau, photographed in 1856 by Benjamin D. Maxham (Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)<\/p><\/div>\n<p>To celebrate the 200th birthday of Henry David Thoreau on July 12, here&#8217;s a summertime poem by Professor Emeritus of Biology Robert Chute, a <a href=\"http:\/\/www.maine.gov\/msl\/maine\/writdisplay.shtml?id=94717\">noted Maine poet<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>Chute&#8217;s &#8220;Heat Wave in Concord&#8221; reimagines a sizzling summer day in 1852 when Thoreau and a friend, William Ellery Channing, waded into the river and walked up and down its shoreline.<\/p>\n<p>Thoreau called such jaunts &#8220;fluvial walks.&#8221; In his journal on July 10, 1852, he noted that the Assabet River (which joins the Sudbury River to form the Concord River) was the &#8220;properest highway for this weather.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The poem&#8217;s opening epigraph is from Walt Whitman&#8217;s &#8220;Song of Myself,&#8221; in which a young woman watches 28 naked men bathing in a river and imagines joining them.<\/p>\n<p>Published in 1996, the poem won the Chad Walsh Poetry Prize from the <em>Beloit Poetry Journal<\/em>.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<hr \/>\n<h3>Heat Wave in Concord<\/h3>\n<h5>By Robert Chute<\/h5>\n<h5><\/h5>\n<p><em>\u201cDancing and laughing along the beach<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;came the twenty-ninth bather&#8230;\u201d<sup><a href=\"#NB\">1<\/a><\/sup><\/em><\/p>\n<h5>I<\/h5>\n<p>Farmers working the fields quit early,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;as much for ox or horse as for men \u2013<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;one&nbsp;old&nbsp;man&nbsp;had&nbsp;already&nbsp;died;&nbsp;exhausted<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;by heat, wrung out, wrinkled<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;like dried fruit.<\/p>\n<p>Their women, buttoned, laced, strapped<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;under petticoats, skirts, sleeves,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;sit and work, work and sit<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;in the dim, dead heat<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;of parlor, kitchen, and shed.<\/p>\n<p>But one, an exceptional one, in<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;a windowless storage room, stands,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;naked&nbsp;and&nbsp;white&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;wash&nbsp;tub\u2019s&nbsp;cold&nbsp;ring.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her cast off clothes spilled<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;like dried discarded flowers.<\/p>\n<p>The tinned dipper lifts water, still cool<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;the&nbsp;well,&nbsp;again&nbsp;and&nbsp;again.&nbsp;The water<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;passing over her body like<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;unseen fingers and back<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;to the tub again.<\/p>\n<p>Perhaps&nbsp;one&nbsp;of&nbsp;them&nbsp;also&nbsp;dreams&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;river,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;of young men who float there,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;pale bellies tempting the sun.<\/p>\n<h5>II<\/h5>\n<p>From houses on opposite sides<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;of the elm-roofed main street Henry<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and Ellery, leaving dishes and scraps<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;of cold dinner behind,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;meet, retreat to the river.<\/p>\n<p>A man stands in a barn door, his shirt<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;stained with sweat, hat hanging slack<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;in his hand. A woman in the shed\u2019s<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;dark&nbsp;cave&nbsp;churns&nbsp;the&nbsp;morning\u2019s&nbsp;milk&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;the heat would soon sour.<\/p>\n<p>They shake their heads. What beside envy<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;do&nbsp;they&nbsp;feel&nbsp;as&nbsp;these&nbsp;renegades&nbsp;slip&nbsp;away?<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Do they imagine how it feels to peel<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;close, sweaty clothes away,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;let the waters have their play?<\/p>\n<p>At the river Henry explains that banks have<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;a gender, this one, for example, being<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;convex, alluvial, gradual, and<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;feminine; the opposite, concave,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;undercut, and masculine.<\/p>\n<p>Ellery makes some comments that<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;Henry\u2019s Journal will never repeat.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They strip and wade in.<\/p>\n<h5>III<\/h5>\n<p>Soon,&nbsp;by&nbsp;the&nbsp;opposite,&nbsp;masculine,&nbsp;shore,&nbsp;up<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;to their chins, they face the current.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The heat of the day is carried<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;down, away. They wade upstream,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;wearing their hats against the sun.<\/p>\n<p>They hold their bundled clothing high.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;From deep holes to shallows<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;the water falls, rises again.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Chest, ankle, knee, belly,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;chest, and down again.<\/p>\n<p>Rounding&nbsp;a&nbsp;bend&nbsp;they&nbsp;see&nbsp;the&nbsp;plank&nbsp;bridge.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;Boys, their work done, race and strip<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and plunge. Boys breaching<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;and splashing; marble boys riding<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;imaginary dolphins.<\/p>\n<p>On the bank one boy sits, lifting a foot<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;to examine some bruise, fixed<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;in an instant as an engraving in<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;an antiquities book; but subtly<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;colored, sunburned, bare.<\/p>\n<p>The&nbsp;two&nbsp;men&nbsp;put&nbsp;on&nbsp;shirts&nbsp;now,&nbsp;feeling&nbsp;the&nbsp;sting<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;of the sun. Bridge rails bleed pitch,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;the planks shrink.<\/p>\n<h5>IV<\/h5>\n<p>The drying tails of their shirts stick<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;to their buttocks and thighs. Perhaps<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;because&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;shirts&nbsp;they&nbsp;feel&nbsp;undressed,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;retreat to the water. The water, like<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;unseen fingers, passes over them.<\/p>\n<p>They&nbsp;wade&nbsp;on&nbsp;into&nbsp;a&nbsp;shaded,&nbsp;shallower&nbsp;reach<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;of late afternoon, hear the clang<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;of a distant bell. Some farmer\u2019s wife<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;signaling&nbsp;an&nbsp;early&nbsp;supper.&nbsp;They&nbsp;climb&nbsp;out<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;on the feminine side.<\/p>\n<p>They&nbsp;wait&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;air&nbsp;to&nbsp;dry&nbsp;them.&nbsp;How&nbsp;long<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;this single mile of fluvial walk<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;has seemed, passing from present<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;to pastoral to classical,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;back to the present again.<\/p>\n<p>They&nbsp;dress,&nbsp;turn&nbsp;toward&nbsp;the&nbsp;world&nbsp;of&nbsp;women<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;where&nbsp;mother,&nbsp;sister,&nbsp;or&nbsp;wife&nbsp;waits.&nbsp;The&nbsp;day<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;slides toward evening and the moon.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<div id=\"attachment_108693\" style=\"width: 201px\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/robert_m_chute-copy.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-108693\" class=\"wp-image-108693\" src=\"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/robert_m_chute-copy-223x300.jpg\" alt=\"Professor Emeritus of Biology Robert M. Chute is an award-winning Maine poet. \" width=\"191\" height=\"257\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/robert_m_chute-copy-223x300.jpg 223w, https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/robert_m_chute-copy-148x200.jpg 148w, https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/files\/2017\/07\/robert_m_chute-copy.jpg 537w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 191px) 100vw, 191px\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-108693\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Professor Emeritus of Biology Robert M. Chute is an award-winning Maine poet.<\/p><\/div>\n<p><em id=\"NB\">N.B.: <\/em>Thoreau records his \u201cfluvial walks\u201d in the <em>Journal<\/em> for 1852. He read Whitman\u2019s &#8216;Leaves of Grass,&#8217; including, we assume, the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.poets.org\/poetsorg\/poem\/song-myself-xi\" target=\"_blank\">song of the 29th bather<\/a> in 1856.<\/p>\n<p>Thoreau&#8217;s comment: \u201cAs for the sensuality in Whitman\u2019s &#8216;Leaves of Grass,&#8217; I do not so much wish it was not written, as that men and women were so pure that they could read it without harm.\u201d<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Chute&#8217;s &#8220;Heat Wave in Concord&#8221; recreates a sizzling summer day in 1852 when Thoreau and a friend went on a &#8220;fluvial walk&#8221; in the Concord River. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":104,"featured_media":108657,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_hide_ai_chatbot":false,"_ai_chatbot_style":"","associated_faculty":[],"_Page_Specific_Css":"","_bates_restrict_mod":false,"_table_of_contents_display":false,"_table_of_contents_location":"","_table_of_contents_disableSticky":false,"_is_featured":false,"footnotes":"","_bates_seo_meta_description":"","_bates_seo_block_robots":false,"_bates_seo_sharing_image_id":0,"_bates_seo_sharing_image_twitter_id":0,"_bates_seo_share_title":"","_bates_seo_canonical_overwrite":"","_bates_seo_twitter_template":""},"categories":[11010,133,179],"tags":[7039,7522],"class_list":["post-108644","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-arts","category-creativity","category-language-literature","tag-poetry","tag-robert-chute"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108644","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/104"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=108644"}],"version-history":[{"count":46,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108644\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":108652,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108644\/revisions\/108652"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/108657"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=108644"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=108644"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bates.edu\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=108644"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}