Henry Beston’s The Outermost House is something of an American nature classic, an account of the year he spent living on a beach near Eastham, Massachusetts not far from the very tip of Cape Cod in the 1920s. This new edition comes with charming illustrations by Pete Smith who also designed its beautiful jacket.
An ambulance driver in World War One, Beston was a writer of fairy tales who decided to build himself a two-room summer house on the five acres of beach he bought in 1925, making sure to include a fireplace and an oil-fired stove. At the end of what was to be a two-week stay in September 1927, he decided to live in Fo’castle for a year, observing the rhythms of nature in this remote often harsh yet beautiful place. Apart from weekly tramps to the local stores for fresh supplies, occasionally helped by friends, and nightly calls by the coast guards as part of their patrols, Beston had little contact with other people but never felt lonely. From marvelling at the glorious night sky, with none of the light pollution that most of us hardly notice obscuring his view, to having his feet tickled by a shoal of fish on a nocturnal walk through the sea, to watching the comings and goings of migratory birds, Beston had much to occupy his year which ends fittingly with a night spent sleeping, albeit rather fitfully, under the stars
The Outermost House comes with an introduction by Philip Hoare which neatly sketches in details of Beston’s life, adding Hoare’s own description of the beach on which Fo’castle stood for a decade after Beston died until it was washed away by a storm in 1978. Beston’s reverence for nature and its importance to humanity is clear from the outset. Although there’s no mention of religion, there’s something of the spiritual about his attitude which resonates throughout the book.
Nature is a part of our humanity, and without some awareness and experience of that divine mystery man ceases to be man
Beston writes lyrically about the world around him, his awe at the land and seascape’s grandeur clear from the outset.
Solitary and elemental, unsullied and remote, visited and possessed by the outer sea, these sands might be the end or the beginning of the world
The language and cadence of his writing transports you to Cape Cod with its crashing breakers, bird cries and shifting sand dunes. The book is studded with gorgeous word pictures, lovely descriptions which are a product of writerly skill and keen observation.
Silvery grey-green all summer long, in autumn it puts on gold and russet-golden colourings of singular delicacy and beauty
One of the most effective passages is Beston’s description of the sound of the sea, the constant yet changing soundtrack of his year
I listen to the rushes and the bursts, the tramplings, and the long, intermingled thunderings, never wearying of the sonorous and universal sound
I fell in love with this timeless, beautiful book, as you can probably tell. Impossible to read it, without thinking of climate change. There were man-made hazards in Beston’s day – he describes futile attempts to rescue birds from oil-spillages – but such incidents seem almost trivial given what we now know. Beston ends his book with the exhortation:
Do no dishonor to the earth lest you dishonor the spirit of man
Relevant then, and even more so now.
Have you read any of May Sarton’s journals? She lived what was often a very solitary life on the coast further north in Maine and your quotes put me in mind of some of her descriptions of the land and seascape that surrounded her home.
It’s a name I know but I’ve not read anything by her. Thanks so much, Ann.
How serendipitous to see your review today! I just submitted my TLS review of this book on Monday. It’s a lovely rediscovery, isn’t it? His words on the proper relationship between people and nature still seem apt. I also noted the mystical and poetic language, and found Hoare’s introduction very illuminating on the context of Beston’s life.
That is a coicidence! I often feel those introductions are superfluous but Hoare really did add something, not least his own obvious love for the book. And thanks for your additional comment about Sarton’s journals. I’ll check them out.
(I’d second the recommendation for Sarton’s journals if you haven’t already read them. The House by the Sea is the one that particularly comes to mind.)
I was going to suggest Journal of a Solitude, Rebecca, but The House by the Sea is probably the one which would sit best with the Beston.
I’m adding both to my list!
Journal of a Solitude was my first Sarton and still my favourite (written in her New Hampshire days, though).
I don’t think you often read nature books? — or perhaps just don’t review them. I bet you’re glad you made an exception for this one 🙂
I do now and then but rarely review non-fiction on the blog. I very much liked the
sound of this one, though, perhaps because I loved the very little I saw of Maine
I read this for a book club in early 2013 so I missed Hoare’s introduction 🙁
You can see my brief thoughts on it here https://www.exurbanis.com/archives/8812#outermost
Ah, that’s a shame. Thanks for the link.
This has been on my TBR forever I think! Others have told me “just read it”–I’ll try to get to it in 2020. Have you read The Good Life by Helen and Scott Nearing?
It’s lovely, well worth digging out of the TBR. No, I haven’t. Is it in a similar vein?
It is about building their homestead and living the simple life.
That sounds rather good. So much easier to read about than do!
It’s very interesting. My artist great-uncle, Edwin Fulwider, told me about them in the 80s. I finally read it about 10 years ago. Excellent story.
I could sit and listen to the sea for hours. Not too keen on the idea though of a moonlight paddle where I couldn’t see what was nibbling at my toes. It might be something that wants more than a nibble…
He managed to make it sound quite pleasant! Not piranha-like at all.
maybe he has more tolerance than I do….
Sounds lovely!
Kind of in your neck of the woods? Relatively speaking, given I’m an entire ocean away!
This sounds absolutely gorgeous. And as you say, more relevant than ever, sadly.
It’s lovely, well worth seeking out. He has a way of transporting you to Cape Cod with those vivid word pictures and soundscapes.