Walden is a work of many gaps and contradictions, a work that seems to keep the reader off balance. It is not an easy book for a reader - especially a first time reader - to sort out and to find order in.
The question of its structure has puzzled many critics, with some focusing on the cycle of the seasons as symbolic death and rebirth, and others on whether it is unified in spite of the oppositions it contains. Nor is it autobiography, although much of it is based on Thoreau's life at Walden pond. This book is not a novel, a narrative poem, or a play there is no clear story line, no plot line. Chapter XIV: Former Inhabitants and Winter Visitors.Chapter II: Where I Lived, and What I Lived For.
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