Walking women: Rebecca Solnit's "A History of Walking."

Amelia Ferreira

    “I walk, all day, across the heaven-verging field.” – Mary Oliver, Upstream

Walking women

In my presentation on “Wanderlust: A History of Walking,” by Rebecca Solnit, I focused on the link in Western thought between mind and movement that has been established by philosophers like the early Greek peripatetics, Rousseau, Thoreau– a form of “contemplative walking,” in which walking is a creative process inseparable from the act of philosophizing. However, other schools of thought have viewed walking differently within their philosophical doctrines; a notable example of this is Cynicism. Additionally, with the exception of a brief mention of Dorothy Wordsworth, my initial exploration of the relationship between thinking and walking described only the contributions of male philosophers and writers, though in fact there have been many female philosophers and writers throughout history who have exalted the joys of walking; this post will discuss Simone de Beauvoir in particular. Solnit dedicated multiple chapters in her book to the relationship between women and walking, noting that “Throughout the history of walking I have been tracing, the principal figures– whether or peripatetic philosophers, flâneurs, or mountaineers– have been men, and it is time to look at why women were not out walking too.” 

Cynic philosophy: Hipparchia of Maroneia

Cynicism is a school of philosophical thought that originated in Ancient Greece, although to call Cynicism a “school” is perhaps misleading. Cynics consider their philosophy more of a lifestyle, and many have criticized and even ridiculed more speculative forms of philosophy, such as metaphysics, as “useless.” 

https://existentialcomics.com/comic/618

Hipparchia of Maroneia is remarkable for being one of few female philosophers in Ancient Greece. A follower of the doctrines of Cynic philosophy, Hipparchia embraced a lifestyle of self-imposed hardship and lived her life in poverty with her husband, Crates, who was also a follower of Cynicism. Knowledge of Hipparchia’s contributions to philosophy come from secondhand accounts of her writings, including letters and philosophical refutations.

Born between 340 and 330 BC, Hipparchia was likely introduced to Cynic philosophy by her brother Metrocles, who was a student in Aristotle’s Lyceum and a follower of Crates. Hipparchia was a teenager when she began studying philosophy and adopted a Cynic lifestyle. One of the biggest tenets of Cynic philosophy is a shunning of social conventions, which are thought to hinder a virtuous life by restricting freedoms and standing in opposition to nature and reason. It’s no coincidence, then, that some of the most famous Cynics are said to have exhibited deeply bizarre behavior: from Diogenes, who was said to masturbate in public, to Hipparchia herself, who purportedly consummated her marriage to her husband Crates by having sex on a public porch. Although the legitimacy of these stories is dubious, Hipparchia did many things that flew in the face of social customs at the time. She regularly attended philosophical symposiums, and is famous for an exchange she had with the Cyrenaic philosopher Theodorus the Atheist. When he questioned the legitimacy of her being present, Hipparchia responded by posing a form of comic syllogism known as spoudaiogeloion, a “rhetorical mainstay” of the Cynics. Theodorus “had no reply wherefore to meet the argument,” according to Diogenes Laertius’s recording of the interaction; furthermore, he notes Hipparchia’s composure when confronted: “But Hipparchia showed no sign of alarm or of the perturbation natural in a woman.” In the context of Ancient Greek cultural expectations, Hipparchia’s rejection of social customs, particularly as they pertain to women’s roles, were quite radical. 

For Cynics, the relationship between walking and philosophy differed quite dramatically from that of later walking philosophers. Rousseau, Kant, and Kierkegaard, engaged in “contemplative walking,” in which the act of walking was an inseparable part of the philosophic process; movement and mind were linked. For Cynics, walking is an aspect of askēsis, or training of the self. According to the Cynic philosophy, nature offers the best indication of how to live a good life, characterized by virtues of freedom, self-sufficiency, and rationality. Living in accordance with nature and promoting self-sufficiency requires embracing hardship and poverty. Walking was one aspect of this rigorous “training.” The Cynic philosopher Diogenes of Sinope walked barefoot in the snow. In a letter attributed to Crates, Hipparchia is said to have given birth without any difficulty because she had worked “like an athlete” throughout the pregnancy in accordance with Cynic values. Frédéric Gros, in his book “A Philosophy of Walking,” writes: “The Cynics’ philosophy is linked with the condition of the walker by far more than the superficial impression of rootlessness.” In other words, the physical labor of walking– typically barefoot and in extreme conditions– was more important to the Cynics than the train of thought that accompanied it. The subjugation of the body to physical extremes in order to attain greater self-reliance was a method by which the Cynics doggedly pursued virtue. 

Simone de Beauvoir

French existentialist and feminist Simone de Beauvoir’s walking habits stand in stark comparison to those of previously discussed philosophers for a couple of reasons. For one thing, Beauvoir’s approach to walking was completely different from theirs. The sheer vigor, fanaticism, and determination with which she approached the task is unmatched even by wanderers like Rousseau or Thoreau. Beauvoir embarked on lengthy, often steep, and sometimes dangerous hikes. She would go on hiking trips in the mountains that would last for weeks– and although she sometimes was accompanied by a friend or lover, she frequently went alone. Living rough, sleeping on benches or in barns, fending off attackers or molesters, and the occasional brush with death: one time falling into a remote crevice, another time being pursued by a rabid dog. Beauvoir found the act of walking a liberating endeavor, one that placed her own wellbeing squarely in her own hands; she was dependent on herself only. In her memoir, she said that her hiking taught her “to live by myself, to support myself, not to be dependent on anyone in any way.” Beauvoir’s 1949 feminist manifesto The Second Sex was informed by the feelings of liberation and independence that she felt while hiking.

Unlike other philosophers, Beauvoir didn’t consider walking to be a particularly philosophical endeavor. While on a hike in the Alps, she wrote to her husband Sartre: “I’m not doing much thinking. I’m blissful.” In another letter, she declared that she had “not “a thought in [her] head apart from flowers and beasts and stony tracks and wide horizons.” However, just because Beauvoir didn’t consider walking a thinking ordeal didn’t mean it wasn’t a transformative one. For Beauvoir, walking was a deeply therapeutic and cathartic experience. Her difficult relationship with Jean-Paul Sartre was a source of deep emotional turmoil and confusion, which she expunged by embarking on solitary adventures. In her notebook she writes, “I would like to learn how to be alone again.” Beauvoir would plan her outings with military precision, poring over maps and plotting hikes of increasingly ambitious length: “At first I limited myself to some five or six hours’ walking; then I chose routes that would take nine to ten hours; in time I was doing over twenty-five miles a day.” And although Beauvoir may not have considered her excursions to be a form of philosophizing, this practice of relentlessly testing the limits of her mind and body (almost like a Cynic!) influenced her feminist philosophy and precipitated many of her brilliant ideas.