A little book that I can't seem to take off my desk is a mere 207 pages entitled "Into the Wild" by Jon Krakauer. I first heard of the book and the subsequent movie based on the book directed by Sean Penn while on a domed train traveling from Anchorage to Denali.
It is no spoiler to tell the outcome of the story because that is revealed in the first paragraphs of the book and I am told the first scenes of the movie. Chris McCandless, an upper-middle class, all-around attractive, do-good kid who obeyed his parents and finished college at Emory with a high GPA died alone from starvation here in the United States.
Upon graduating from Emory, he told his parents that he would take a little trip, not heading straight back to Northern Virginia where he had grown up and where his father was a powerful scientist for our government.
Dr. and Mrs. McCandless never heard from their son again.
Chris tramped through the U.S. for two years before fulfilling his dream of attempting to live in the wilds of Alaska all alone. He died in an abandoned bus outside the Denali National Park.
The author tells of the wonderful friends "Alex Supertramp" made along the way during his nomad days. Most of these friends would have given anything for the nice young man they grew to know. There are countless reports of him accepting hospitality of other people in a subculture in which most of us are unfamiliar.
Oddly, I didn't find reports of any magnanimous generosity by him to others once he started tramping. He gave of his time and friendship, but it is not reported of any generous donations of money: no reports of earning a position whereby he could give a "hand up."
Chris kept in contact with his new-found "family" up and until he wandered into the wild; yet, he never called his blood relatives.
There are reasons given for Chris' actions, but IMO not explanations. I'll leave those who want to read the book to explore those reasons and seek explanations.
While alone in the wild, living off the land, Chris didn't write any meaningful words of wisdom. His diary consists mostly of logs of the food he killed and the berries he supplemented with the only staple he took into the wilderness, a large bag of rice.
McCandless took with him several paperback books by Thoreau and Tolstoy from which he underlined passages. These are printed in the book and I'll not repeat them. I know that I myself will quote from them in the future. Bringing those quotes to my attention was enough for me to be grateful I read "Into the Wild."
Just in a recent issue of "Sierra" magazine is an article about Alaska, the author, Daniel Duane, says, "It's good to wait; life gets too busy. We need wasted days in random places. It's better if you do not have a book to read. Boredom brings us closer to ourselves and to the world outside. Boredom makes us pay attention to the loon's loud, curious call, and it gives us the time to ask ourselves how exactly a northern seacoast can smell sweet."
McCandless never wrote any such words. He recorded the foods he ate. He underlined passages of books he read. And he died because he was not prepared enough to hike out after actually achieving his dream of surviving for months in the wild. Because he did not have maps, he didn't know of an alternative route out to the Stampede Trail after the rivers were too swollen to cross. Because he didn't have a map, he didn't know that help was only miles away. He survived in the wild. He also died in the wild.
After being alone for three months without seeing a single person, only two weeks after his death, three separate groups of people came upon the school bus within hours of each other. The first set to happen on the bus were hikers. They found a note that said, "I am seriously ill. Please help me. This is not a joke." These hikers were too afraid to go into the bus. The second group of people were hunters and they found McCandless dead of starvation wrapped in the sleeping bag that his mother had made for him. He abandoned his mother but died in her gift. As a mother, I'd like to think by doing that he metaphorically died in her arms.
I can't put this book away. It sits as the single item on my desk. I can't put it away because, as in all life, there is no resolution. There is no moral lesson. There is just grief, just grief -- and that yellow school bus still sitting off the Stampede Trail.
Respectfully,
Kathy Albers
Postscript: I first heard about McCandless on the McKinley Explorer Domed Train. I would have filed the story away; even perhaps/perhaps not rented the movie. Another event compelled me to read the book. Our first night in Denali State Park, my husband and I had signed up for a four-wheel jeep adventure. It was just a luck of the draw I picked this excursion. The route we took was down a road that was not even a road. It was the Stampede Trail.
Last edited by BamaMama; 08/17/08 03:34 PM.
