‘my whole life has been little else than a long reverie divided into chapters by my daily walks’

horsemouth’s reading of rousseau’s reveries of a solitary walker has ground to a standstill. rousseau is in disgrace. he broods upon it (despite claiming that he is entirely freed from the tyranny of pubic opinion). this makes him a less congenial companion. only some of the walks are actually walks. (many are just extended think pieces in the style of montaigne). he tries out a line,

‘my whole life has been little else than a long reverie divided into chapters by my daily walks’

in a phrase jotted down on a playing card (but ultimately not incorporated in the work).

‘all things change around us, we ourselves change, an no one can be sure of loving tomorrow what he loves today. all our plans of happiness in this life are empty dreams.’

he starts writing it when he is 64. he walks. he botanises. he works as a music copyist. he lives modestly. he claims not to read. he will not receive authors at his flat. he is (yet another) fan of crusoe.

he dies in 1780. it is published in 1784. seven of the essays (walks) he left in fair copy, 3 were edited and compiled after his death. maybe horsemouth will take it out for a walk with him. it’s an engaging enough read.

horsemouth the greedy counts his money (literally, you can’t even spend that shit anymore) - this is the point of maximum savings in the year, his ability to earn has outstripped his rent payments for a few months (imagine the robert mitchum/ radio raheem ‘this is the story of love and hate’ tale retold with rent and wages). but now the rent payments are coming back strong and the wages are drying up. if horsemouth wasn’t lazy (and greedy) he’d go get another job and defend his savings (but meh). they’ve furloughed him (so that’s some of it). if he’s lucky this will leave him in a better financial condition than most recent years as he coasts it out until next (academic) year.

what next year will look like he has no idea (assuming he survives). horsemouth is attached (limpet like) to the university sector. what the university sector will look like next year god only knows. it’s a long way to the pension (and sanctified economic inactivity) but horsemouth is determined to get there.

he lives modestly. he goes for walks. he reads. he doesn’t botanise (particularly). he has little faith in the ability of the economy to feed him. and it’s unwise to plan to far ahead. he’s unsure what he will do for summer.