- American novelists and humourist Mark Twain wrote an autobiography called “Life on the Mississippi”. “Two Ways of Seeing a River is an excerpt from this book, and is Twain’s account of learning to be a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River. He delves into the changes in attitude he experiences concerning the river after becoming a steamboat pilot. Essentially, once he gains knowledge and life experiences, he begins to take the beauty of the river for granted and loses his love of it. Mark Twain explains how something beautiful can turn bland or even ugly after seeing it numerous times, from a different perspective, or after gaining new knowledge and experiences.
“Two Ways of Seeing a River”
Mark Twain
Now when I had mastered the language of this water and had come to know every trifling feature that bordered the great river as familiarly as I knew the letters of the alphabet, I had made a valuable acquisition. But I had lost something, too. I had lost something which could never be restored to me while I lived. All the grace, the beauty, the poetry had gone out of the majestic river! I still keep in mind a certain wonderful sunset which I witnessed when steamboating was new to me. A broad expanse of the river was turned to blood; in the middle distance the red hue brightened into gold, through which a solitary log came floating, black and conspicuous; in one place a long, slanting mark lay sparkling upon the water; in another the surface was broken by boiling, tumbling rings, that were as many-tinted as an opal; where the ruddy flush was faintest, was a smooth spot that was covered with graceful circles and radiating lines, ever so delicately traced; the shore on our left was densely wooded, and the sombre shadow that fell from this forest was broken in one place by a long, ruffled trail that shone like silver; and high above the forest wall a clean-stemmed dead tree waved a single leafy bough that glowed like a flame in the unobstructed splendor that was flowing from the sun.
There were graceful curves, reflected images, woody heights, soft distances; and over the whole scene, far and near, the dissolving lights drifted steadily, enriching it, every passing moment, with new marvels of coloring.
I stood like one bewitched. I drank it in, in a speechless rapture. The world was new to me, and I had never seen anything like this at home. But as I have said, a day came when I began to cease from noting the glories and the charms which the moon and the sun and the twilight wrought upon the river’s face; another day came when I ceased altogether to note them. Then, if that sunset scene had been repeated, I should have looked upon it without rapture, and should have commented upon it, inwardly, in this fashion: “This sun means that we are going to have wind to-morrow; that floating log means that the river is rising, small thanks to it; that slanting mark on the water refers to a bluff reef which is going to kill somebody’s steamboat one of these nights, if it keeps on stretching out like that; those tumbling ‘boils’ show a dissolving bar and a changing channel there; the lines and circles in the slick water over yonder are a warning that that troublesome place is shoaling up dangerously; that silver streak in the shadow of the forest is the ‘break’ from a new snag, and he has located himself in the very best place he could have found to fish for steamboats; that tall dead tree, with a single living branch, is not going to last long, and then how is a body ever going to get through this blind place at night without the friendly old landmark?”
No, the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness it could furnish toward compassing the safe piloting of a steamboat. Since those days, I have pitied doctors from my heart. What does the lovely flush in a beauty’s cheek mean to a doctor but a “break” that ripples above some deadly disease? Are not all her visible charms sown thick with what are to him the signs and symbols of hidden decay? Does he ever see her beauty at all, or doesn’t he simply view her professionally, and comment upon her unwholesome condition all to himself? And doesn’t he sometimes wonder whether he has gained most or lost most by learning his trade?
The structure of this excerpt is divided into three main ideas: Mark Twain’s initial love of the river, his gradual decline in attention for it, and finally, an inquisition if losing sight of beauty to gain something else is worth it. The first paragraph consists of mainly vivid imagery of the Mississippi River that Mark Twain describes. Twain, with this paragraph, is conveying the fact that a knowledge of the inner-workings of a river and what the features of a river indicate do not heighten the experience of it. In fact, getting to know something too well can make one lose attraction of it, and this is what happened to Twain. In the first sentence, when he says, “…I had mastered the language of this water,” he means that he was well-trained as a steamboat pilot. He describes this acquisition as valuable; however, he also blames it as the cause for him to lose “all the grace, all the beauty” from the river. In the second paragraph, Twain describes the gradual decline in attraction and attention to the river and its surroundings. He notices things not so he can marvel at them, but to use them, such as when he takes the image of a sunset and notes that it means “we are going to have wind tomorrow”. Twain then brings all the vivid details of the river from the first paragraph and introduces them again into the second, but this time, he describes how they indicate something other than beauty to him. This shows that knowledge and experience did, indeed, cause Twain to disregard the awe and magnificence that he saw in the river before. It can be seen that distance creates beauty, when in the first paragraph, “steamboating was new to me [Twain],” he was not acquitted with the workings of the river, and therefore he was more ‘distant’ from it, which created his attraction for it. In fact, he is aware of this, because in the third paragraph, he “pities doctors from my [Twain] heart.” He rhetorically questions whether or not a doctor can see the difference in the beauty of a flush of a woman’s cheeks and a disease. The main question he asks is whether or not gaining knowledge and experience of something worth is losing that initial perspective. More or less, Mark Twain is addressing himself, and possibly making the world aware of the merits to what they are trying to achieve.
In the last paragraph, Twain provides interrogative sentences that invite readers to consider doubt or judgment on their own actions. Twain is referencing doctors in the paragraph; however, in reality, he is addressing himself and the world. One thing to note is that Twain always brings ideas from the last paragraph into the beginning of every new paragraph. This juxtaposition is to enhance his point from the last paragraph and contrast it with what he is going to say next. In the second paragraph, he contrasts his love of the river with the reality of it. In the third paragraph, he contrasts the loss of the “romance and the beauty” of the river with the question if it is worth losing that perspective for something else, such as knowledge. He is trying to make sense of the significance of gaining experience if in the end, it takes away the perception of beauty and love, and if one “has gained most or lost most by learning his trade.”
Overall, in “Two Ways of Seeing a River”, Mark Twain addresses the importance of understanding the extent of the merits of what people have. He questions whether experience and knowledge is more rewarding than the vivid perception of things and the ability to see meaning beyond their surface. Twain emphasizes how he went from a state of mesmerisation to nonchalance in regards to the Mississippi River, all because of his acquisition of experience and knowledge as a steamboat pilot, which he views as valuable but not worth the loss of his romantic and poetic perception of the river.
