Draft

Lars Eighner’s essay “Dumpster Diving” serves as a driving force for Eighner’s extensive memoir, Travels with Lizbeth (1993). The larger piece chronicles a three-year period of Eighner’s life during which he was homeless. “Dumpster Diving” details a core aspect of his homelessness, explaining the means by which Eighner obtained his food, clothing, and other necessities. The first seven paragraphs of the essay underscore not only the carelessness of the consumer but also the mindfulness of those who depend on the consumer’s refuse to survive. Throughout the introduction of “Dumpster Diving,” Eighner conveys a message to the reader that individuals should make much more utility of their possessions and stop taking them for granted. This message is then reiterated in the rest of the passage as Eighner “put[s] . . . what I have learned down here [in the essay], beginning with the practical art of Dumpster diving and proceeding to the abstract.”

Eighner begins the passage by mentioning the origins of the term “Dumpster.” Eighner enlightens the reader on the roots of the word as a trademark of the Dempster Dumpster company (para. 1). This is a rather unusual way to begin the piece because a word such as “Dumpster” is rarely deemed interesting enough to research or explore. However, this insight given to the reader emphasizes the lack of knowledge that people really have about Dumpsters. Often, people view “Dumpster” as a quite negative term because of its association with waste items. The fact that “Dumpster” is merely a proprietary word of a company that specializes in garbage disposal seldom crosses the mind. Instead, “Dumpster” is treated with ill repute—the same ill repute that consumers treat their personal items with when they discard them into Dumpsters. Eighner gives “Dumpster” a more favorable portrayal, even “dutifully capitaliz[ing] the word although it was lowercased in almost all of the citations Merriam-Webster photocopied for me” (para. 2). Through this “dutiful capitalization” he divulges a more accurate meaning of Dumpsters as seen through the eyes of the “wino[s]” and “hobo[s]” (para. 2) who rely on them for sustenance and supplies; for the homeless view a Dumpster in the same way that those with housing view a refrigerator—as primary food storage.

Eighner is also very particular with the phrase “Dumpster diving.” Despite the attractive alliteration, Eighner states that this depiction of the process by which he amasses his essentials “seems to me to be a little too cute and, in my case, inaccurate because I lack the athletic ability to lower myself into the Dumpsters as the true divers do, much to their increased profit” (para. 4). Rather than “diving,” Eighner broaches some more fitting terms within the fourth paragraph, such as “scavenging,” “scrounging,” and “foraging.” These terms commensurately capture the reality of the activity rather than giving a euphemism such as “diving.” Dumpster diving is not an athlete leaping into a Dumpster with style or grace. Dumpster diving is the way of life for those who have no place to live and no other means of obtaining provisions. Eighner is not coy in his description, later delivering a fairly sordid illustration followed by a one-two punch of concise parallel statements: “I like the frankness of the word ‘scavenging,’ which I can hardly think of without picturing a big black snail on an aquarium wall. I live from the refuse of others. I am a scavenger” (para. 5). The author reveals to the reader the cold, hard truth of Dumpster diving by being direct and guileless—no smoke and mirrors.

The fact that Eighner takes pride in his “scavenger” status accentuates value in what would otherwise be an unenviable position. Eighner writes, “I think it a sound and honorable niche, although if I could I would naturally prefer to live the comfortable consumer life, perhaps—and only perhaps—as a slightly less wasteful consumer owing to what I have learned as a scavenger” (para. 5). As a scavenger, he is much thriftier with what he has than the “consumer.” He has come to appreciate his belongings more than the lavish consumer, who is unaware of how it feels to be homeless, and has no apparent reason to be mindful with his property. Eighner stresses how wasteful the consumer truly is when he provides a laundry list of necessities that he acquired from Dumpsters—a list that includes a few luxury items as well: “Except for jeans, all my clothes came from Dumpsters. Boom boxes, candles, bedding, toilet paper, medicine, books, a typewriter, a virgin male love doll, change sometimes amounting to many dollars: I acquired many things from the Dumpsters” (para. 6). Such indulgences, Eighner reveals, as boom boxes, a typewriter, and even money are discarded for the “scavengers” to dig out of the Dumpsters. By stating that he extracted the “necessities of daily life” from Dumpsters and then proceeding to list items that are not essential and yet are thrown away encapsulates the improvident nature of the larger culture. Eighner’s powerful paradox imparts the lessons he learned without a roof over his head to the readers with a roof over theirs.

Lars Eighner and his dog, Lizbeth, suffered a great deal on the streets, relying on the litter of others. While they were destitute of a home, however, they were not destitute of frugality. The opening seven paragraphs detail the misconceived gentler notions on Dumpster diving and provide a striking critique of society for the reader to mull over as he or she reads the rest of the essay. “On Dumpster Diving” is a life lesson to the extravagant users, misusers, and abusers of objects. The narrator Eighner had his home, his savings, and ultimately his lifestyle stripped away from him. The same can happen to anyone, especially to the person who takes his or her own life for granted. However, it is better to read about Eighner’s experiences and alter one’s ways than to undergo Eighner’s experiences.