Johnson’s
advice is rooted in his own experience. Though immensely industrious, he feared
idleness, and because he dreaded being alone, he was aggressively social.
Behind both fears was an even greater fear – madness. He reads Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, about which he famously
said, “It is the only book that ever took me out of bed two hours sooner than I
wished to rise,” and quotes it accurately to Boswell:
“Onely take
this for a corollary and conclusion, as thou tenderest thine owne welfare in this,
and all other melancholy, thy good health of body and minde, observe this short
precept, give not way to solitarinesse and idlenesse. Be not solitary, be not
idle.”
It’s like a
gift to his friend, a practical prescription for living. By modern therapeutic
standards, both men would be judged dysfunctional if not, at least on occasion,
nuts. But there is another way to understand such conditions as idleness and
solitariness. In “Progress Report,” Dana Gioia gently mocks what sounds like
the Henry David Thoreau School of Philosophy and Mental Health: “It’s time to
admit that I’m irresponsible. / I lack ambition. I get nothing done.” The beautiful,
rolling Northern California landscape, especially the aerial shots, are enough
to encourage a dreamy, lackadaisical lassitude. If it’s too much work to read “Progress
Report,” watch Gioia read the poem in a brief video produced by Peter
Constantine’s Blank Verse Films.
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