Notes from January and February Not Fiction Book Discussions

Henry David Thoreau says of his time at Walden Pond, "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear, nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion."

Chris McCandless, the subject of Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild, conducted a similar experiment when he left home and family completely behind, ultimately dying, perhaps needlessly, of starvation in Alaska. In a pre-publication review of Into the Wild that appeared in Library Journal, the reviewer suggests that Krakauer "never satisfactorily answers the question of whether McCandless was a noble, if misguided, idealist or a reckless narcissist who brought pain to his family." Most people in our discussion group agreed that Krakauer's portrait of McCandless was complex, leaving McCandless an enigma, but they did not expect Krakauer to solve the puzzle. They recognized that McCandless' story derives its interest from the fact that life "proved to be mean" for him, that his story shares many of the elements of classical tragedy. Yet in their own evaluation of McCandless, most discussion members decided that he was not "noble," that he was a "reckless narcissist who brought pain to his family." Therefore, it was inconceivable to many in the discussion group that McCandless has become a cult figure for hundreds of people, mostly young men, many of whom have made a pilgrimmage to the abandoned bus where McCandless lived during the months of his Alaska adventure and where he died. What are these pilgrims looking for? Perhaps a way to "live deliberately"? What do they see in McCandless? And what does it say about our culture that they are looking and that McCandless is the example of what they are looking for? These are questions we never satisfactorily answered in our discussion.

However, after reading Laurence Gonzales' Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why, we were able to analyze McCandless' actions according to "The Rules of Adventure" Gonzales has distilled from his lifetime of personal interest in and study of survival. For example, some discussion members pointed out that McCandless was not informed about or prepared for the environment he entered, leading him to make any number of mistakes. He did not understand the dynamics of snow melt and the way it swelled the river he needed to cross to return to civilization, and he did not carry a map or compass that might have helped him find a new way across or discover some nearby cabins that might have provided food and shelter. Other discussion members pointed out that McCandless' lack of knowledge and preparation was indicative of his lack of humility--he did not know what he did not know or respect the power of the natural world. Regarding our own ability to have a successful adventure or to survive an adventure gone wrong, many discussion members could see that they had experienced some of the qualities of survivors Gonzales describes in moments of "meanness" in their own lives or could benefit from some of the suggestions he makes in future challenging situations. Yet many readers did not find Gonzales' book to be effectively, consistently written. Some found his tendency to take on a swaggering tone and to name-drop annoying, while others thought he might have better organized his points and the anecdotes that illustrate them.

Gonzales echoes Thoreau's wish that, when he "came to die," he not "discover that [he] had not lived" when he describes his daughter's "Gutter Theory of Life": "You don't want to be lying in the gutter, having been run down by a bus, the last bit of your life ebbing away, and be thinking, 'I should have taken that rafting trip . . . ' or 'I should have learned to surf . . . ' or 'I should have flown upside down--with smoke!'" What do you think? What does it mean to "live deliberately"? What does it mean to "survive"?

March Not Fiction Book Discussion

Miss the March discussion of Mildred Armstrong Kalish's memoir Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm Duing the Great Depression? Not on your tintype! You can join us Tuesday, March 3 at 7:00 p.m. in Meeting Room A of the Main Library, Thursday, March 19 at 11:00 a.m. at the West Ashley Branch Library, or here on the blog to share your response to Kalish's story of "a time, a place, and a family" that was named one of the Ten Best Books of the Year by The New York Times. In addition to sharing stories, recipes, home remedies, and how-tos, Kalish also offers a unique perspective on one of the most difficult periods in the history of the United States. Who knows? You just might walk away from the discussion with more than an idea of how to treat a boil with a beet, how to do a week's worth of laundry without a washing machine and dryer, or how to make marshmallows from scratch. You might come to appreciate what Kalish calls "the sheer joy and excitement of it all."

A new Maira Kalman blog!!!

Ahem . . . I mean . . . A new Maira Kalman ILLUSTRATED COLUMN, as Ms. Kalman would prefer to call it, And the Pursuit of Happiness about American democracy, will appear on the last Friday of each month in the New York Times' online edition. Those of you who enjoyed reading and discussing The Principles of Uncertainty, which began as a bl . . . illustrated column will be happy to know that the first installment about Barack Obama's inauguration includes some lovely hats and tassels!
Here is the link: http://kalman.blogs.nytimes.com/
Enjoy!