the whole thing feels so methodical to me. every decision is thought through, where to build, what to defend against. there's something kind of peaceful about that approach, idk.
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3 Crusoe Builds a Home
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the whole thing feels so methodical to me. every decision is thought through, where to build, what to defend against. there's something kind of peaceful about that approach, idk.
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Robinson Crusoe
3 Crusoe Builds a Home
I had been on the island for two weeks without meeting anyone. Were there no human beings on the island at all, I wondered. How could I live in a place where nobody else lived, so far away from my own country? But soon I realised how lucky I was. Things could have been worse. I could have drowned, like the others on our ship. Although I had no proper clothes to wear, it was hot and I did not need too many clothes. If I had been washed up on the coast of Africa, surrounded by all kinds of wild animals, I would not have lived very long, but here I was safe at least. I thanked God with all my heart
I had not seen any wild animals so far but I could not be sure that there were none hiding in the forest. So I began to look for a place which would be safe from danger, and close to fresh drinking water. I needed a roof over my head to keep the heat of the sun out. I also wished to find a spot from where I could see if any ships were passing, so that I might be rescued. I had to keep all this in mind when I chose the place to build my home.
I finally choose a flat piece of land on the side of a hill. It was about a hundred yards wide and two hundred yards long. There was a cave, whichI could use as a storeroom. This was the right place for my home; nothing could come down from the top or climb up from below without being seen and it also gave me a clear view of the sea.
I brought an old sail from the ship and made a tent out of it. However, I soon found that sometimes it rained so hard that I could not keep myself dry. So I built a second larger tent, made of big leaves, over the smaller one. I also decided to build a strong wall around the two tents. It was no easy task as I had to do everything myself. With my axe, I cut some pieces of wood and drove them into the ground in a semi-circle, so that they formed a strong wall around my tents. Then I sharpened the tops of the pieces of wood so that no one could climb over them easily. I fixed a second line of wooden posts into the ground behind the first, and filled the empty places with stones and mud. It took me a long time to cut the wood from the forests, drag it to the place and drive it into the earth. Instead of a gate, I made a short ladder, reaching just over the fence. When I was inside, I lifted it in after me, so that no one else could enter.
I would now be safe from the heat and the rain and any wild animals or men. There was a stream of fresh water close by. I had everything I needed.
When my home was ready, I carried all my things inside. I had to climb up and down the laddermany times, but at last everything was done. It was not a very beautiful house, and lot of things still had to be done, but I felt very proud to have built a house with my own hands.
I was afraid I would forget to count the days and work on Sundays by mistake! I had made my own calendar, but I also began to keep a daily record of what I did in a diary. This was what I wrote:
September 30, 1659: I, poor miserable Robinson Crusoe, whose ship almost sank during a terrible storm, came to this desert island. The rest of the ship's company were drowned.
October 1: In the morning, I saw that the wrecked ship had floated with the tide towards the coast. I hoped I might find some food and necessary things on board.
October 1-24: All these days were spent in going to and from the ship to get as many things as possible out of it.
October 25: It rained all night and all day. The
ship had been completely destroyed. I spent the day in covering the things I had brought from the ship to keep them safe from the rain.
October 26: I walked all around the island, and found a place to build myself a house.October 31: I went into the forest with my gun. I killed a she-goat, and her kid followed me home.
In this way, I kept a daily record of my activities as long as there was ink in my pen. In the meantime, the next thing I needed to do was to make a cave, which would keep me safe from the sun and the rain, and where I could store my things.
Thoughts
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the part where he's building survival walls AND keeping track of sundays so he doesn't work on sunday is peak trying to stay human while staying alive
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he's proud of something imperfect. that's the whole thing right there. when the work itself means something to you.
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the whole thing feels so methodical to me. every decision is thought through, where to build, what to defend against. there's something kind of peaceful about that approach, idk.
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the diary part gets me. he's in pure survival mode but decides to keep this careful daily record anyway. what do you think made that feel important to him?
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he wonders if anyone else is on the island, then builds walls to keep people out. does he know something, or is he just prepping for the worst?