You can follow the summer's blog posts here.
You can read my experiences trying to learn to fly, which is here.
Re-Run: Into the wild, even when you can't.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 9 comments link this post
::This post originally ran on July 27, 2005. I've been noticing a lot of google searches bringing people to this site for this post, which was part of my old blog, now gone. I even had a school teacher contact me for a copy of the blog post because her students had read the book and couldn't see another side of the story; she wanted to let them read another take on it, and that is why she wanted my blog post. I have also included the comments left on the original post in the comments section.::
The book isn't new. Jon Krakauer wrote about the death of Chris McCandless in a magazine article for Outside magazine in 1993, and shortly after, fleshed the complete story out into the best-selling novel Into the Wild.
I only recently became acquainted with Krakauer's work when I read his latest book, Under the Banner of Heaven. Because I was impressed with his ability to tell a true story slowly, peeling back the deep layers without abusing the reader, I searched out his other work. I found Into the Wild, and I read it.
I am so glad I did, and yet I wish I hadn't. The story will not leave my head.
I have found, in my post-reading research, that there are two kinds of reactions to this story, to what Chris McCandless did:
1. He was an arrogant, stupid idiot who had a death wish and got what he deserved and people shouldn't glorify his actions.
2. He didn't lie to himself, he lived his search, and though it meant his life was shortened, it was longer than most people will ever experience.
Either way, anyone who hears McCandless' story has a strong reaction. You can't hear it and not react.
What I've discovered online is that most people seem to be of the first variety. Either that, or they are so vocal in their disdain that people like me, who are of the second variety, remain quiet lest we be labeled a crazy moonbat or arrogant idiot.
For example, this article, I Want To Ride In The Bus Chris Died In, describes a journalist's journey to the infamous Fairbanks 142 bus and the reaction she and two other Alaskans had to the bus, the book inside where "pilgrims" had written commentary, and the story of McCandless in general. The reaction from the Alaskans seems similar to the feedback Krakuaer received, that of their own arrogance snidely commenting on how McCandless didn't bring in enough supplies, he didn't take a map, he was ill-prepared, every Alaskan knows this, every Alaskan would've survived but this stupid greenhorn didn't, etc. etc. etc. The story turns into one of a person who didn't respect Alaska, who didn't somehow honor the state and its people by being a proper survivalist.
They miss the point. I don't think the story is really about Alaska, how tough the citizens of the state are, and what they expect newbies to be.
And that is why the Number 2 people remain silent.
Number 2 people haven't forgotten how "forcefully they were once buffeted by the passions and longings of youth," as Krakuaer said. For some people, the uneasiness that is just below the surface is evidence of just that. These are the people that don't last 4 years at a job, that seem shiftless, unfocused, unable to "buckle down" and be a normal, reliable person in society. They always have one eye on the cage door, always wanting to escape, though few do.
I understand why he didn't take a map. I understand why he went in ill-prepared. He wasn't looking to take just another camping trip, but trying to find out something about himself instead. By bringing all the necessary items along that probably would have saved his life, he would have defeated his whole purpose in going. It wasn't the same as having a death wish but was about issuing the grand challenge, a final leap, to see what he was made of. And he almost made it, he did, except for two mistakes.
But the two viewpoints are diametrically opposed, and so that leaves us with two Alaskans and a journalist mocking the sometimes smarmy but often heartfelt writings of people who found in McCandless a person who kicked open the cage door and took a run for it.
As I read the book, I didn't agree with McCandless disappearing from his family and making no contact with them, writing them off treating them with the immature disdain of someone in their early 20's, but I so completely understood what he was doing that it scared me. Everything he did made sense to me, from the shunning of socks and society to the haphazard abandonment of material things.
We are prisoners of things. Our minds, our lives, are filled with shallow material things, whether it be the maintenance of them, or how to acquire more. It has almost become our sole purpose in this culture. McCandless is seen as strange because he chucked it all and wanted to see what he was made of. He didn't follow the normal route in life after he graduated from college.
I wish I could write what I want to write here, but it is something I'm not ready to say just yet.
Let me put it this way.
I recently got rid of 2/3 of my clothes. Just like that. I packed them in containers and gave them away. There was nothing wrong with them. But I had too much and though for years I have struggled with all that I have, hoping a new arrangement or hiding it from sight will put my mind at ease, I have no peace as a prisoner of things. So I took a gentle swing at the cage door by getting rid of a huge pile of stuff.
Just tonight I took a huge pile of old art, clippings, mementos, imagery I saved from magazines, and other similar items, and lit them on fire. I watched the edges turn black and then watched the flames turn them to ashes in the burning barrel just outside the door. Another swing at the cage door.
Small things, yes, but a start. The more I burn and get rid of, the more I am free. I want to burn everything, get rid of all the things that are holding me to the past, all the things that are holding the cage door shut.
Which brings me back to McCandless. I wish I could leave it all and head off into the sunset, but I can't. I'm not there yet, I don't have it in me. I'm not strong enough, and I am too fearful. I still take comfort in my comfort, I'm ashamed to admit. But he did it, and when I read his story, I feel a little better about the small efforts I've made if only for the simple fact that I know someone out there tried, and I will try, too.
McCandless made the mistake we all make, confusing our heroes with our hypocrites, not realizing they are one and the same. I do not wish to do that with McCandless and his story, and so I take him for what he was: a human who wanted, more than anything, to live life honestly, even if it meant his searches shortened his life in the end.
"I have had a happy life and thank the Lord. Goodbye and may God bless all!" McCandless wrote as he was alone and starving, the last thing he said to the world before he died.
How many people say that at the end?
Labels: books, my life, personal, re-run
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 3/07/2006 05:16:00 PM
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9 Comments:
Original Comments
I read the book to which you refer. I had many of the same responses as you.
However, I felt anger at his lack of concern for those that loved him.
Poor kid.
posted by Nodak Jack : 5:14 AM, July 28, 2005
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Julie,
Stupid me, I missed this when you posted it yesterday. I happened to scroll down past your vacation post just now and saw the picture, saying out loud, "That's Chris McCandless!" My wife said, "Who?"
I read the book, loved it, and tried to get anyone I could to read it. Most people had reaction type 1. And after hearing them, like you, I just sort of dropped the subject.
I felt sad for him, but not pity. It was more like disappointment. I wanted him to make it! Of course, I knew he didn't. I'd first heard the story years before when they found him.
The story still haunts me and I think of it a lot, think of Chris in that bus wasting away, of him eating those potato(?) seeds that would eventually help to disable him. How just upstream there was that river crossing... (I think I'm remembering the details correctly). But mostly I think of him as courageous and no more crazy than someone who wastes their life as a cog in someone else's machine.
And kudos to you for providing a link to the original article, which I've never read.
I have Under the Banner... but haven't gotten to it yet. Have you ever read "Into Thin Air," or "Eiger Dreams" by Krakauer? I recommend them both.
posted by Jim : 6:16 PM, July 28, 2005
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Don't know the story; don't really care one way or another. We all have demons to confront, and another man's or woman's battle may not be especially instructive to our own.
Random questions. Is it not possible to own stuff without stuff owning you? Is life really so complicated? For whom should we be living?
What's really going on here, Julie? [That's a rhetorical question. But you've taken us pretty far down a road that leads to such questions. Don't be surprised when they get asked.]
posted by Eric : 10:27 PM, July 28, 2005
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This post reminded me of a book by Richard Foster called, Freedom of Simplicity.
posted by Diacon : 12:18 AM, July 29, 2005
By 
Julie, at
4/4/07 12:42
May I have permission to copy this post and place it on my sight as a blog? You were able to sum up the feelings that I have felt, but was unable to place into writing. If allowed I will note that this was your writing and not my own. Thank you.
By 
Jason McClure, at
1/7/07 20:48
Go ahead and use it, Jason. Send me a link if you could.
By Julie, at
1/7/07 21:33
Why do you have such revulsion for things that remind you of the past?
You can burn all your childhood mementos and family photos -- but there is no way to erase your memories of the past.
In essence, what I'm saying is that "the cage" you keep referring to only exists in your own mind.
It doesn't matter if you have lots of wealth or nothing at all. Your memories and life experiences are what make you who you are.
In my book, it's better to live a life full of adventures AND have some nice mementos to commemorate those experiences.
One day, if you're lucky -- you will find yourself withered and old, surrounded by a loving family in a comfortable home, with a heart full of fond memories.
Or you can do what Chris did: Live hard. Die young, and make a pretty corpse. In other words, throw your life away for nothing.
What a waste.
By , at
22/9/07 18:40
The first thing you need to note is the original date of the post. Perhaps I have moved on since then and don't really appreciate your judgmental take on me or the way I live my life.
Secondly, revulsion for things of the past is not the point. It is, instead, a desire to break free from the gasp of the past so that I can move forward.
Though I am sure it is not the same for everyone, for some people (those who didn't see Chris' story as one of being a waste or leaving a pretty corpse, one of two possible views, as I very clearly pointed out in the post) the past is a kind of grappling hook that pulls back. For those that feel thsi way -- myself included -- it is very important to throw it off and take a jump forward.
You're being fairly assumptive, "anonymous", to suggest that if i'm lucky I'll find myself old and withered surrounded by a loving family in a comfortable home. You assume that:
1. I don't have some of that already.
2. That I don't already appreciate that.
3. That I am saying that is worthless when I am not.
I don't think, had you bothered to read any of the rest of this site instead of just this one post that you ended up on doing a google search for Chris McCandless, that you'd ever think I was a person who didn't appreciate the gift of my family and life and the moment. On the contrary: I frequently celebrate that in many of my posts.
This post, however, was about exterior things that hold us captive or that we allow to trap us, and as such, you've missed the point.
Frankly, there are some of us who appreciate all these things you suggest we do not, but still have unanswered questions that are not satisfied by a comfortable home and "fond" memories. There are bigger questions and those things are mainly excellent foundations for which to go exploring and find those bigger answers.
"What a waste."
You are mistaken. And unable to consider people are not all like you. Consider that you are the person I mentioned above, the one who can't see McCandless for anything but a fool. In that case, there is absolutely no way you can understand what I wrote a few years ago, which is clearly revealed in your response.
By Julie R. Neidlinger, at
24/9/07 07:53
I have to assume this was the comment you were trying to write while I was chattering in the back ground. I honestly do not know how you can take some of the comments people make out of ignorance. Now you have to come when we can do more than the Hi and Good bye thing!
By Jacqui, at
24/9/07 15:22
Hi. I am like person #2. I think that Chris was a hero simply for daring to step outside society's boundaries. I appreciated the way you put these thoughts into words:
We are prisoners of things. Our minds, our lives, are filled with shallow material things, whether it be the maintenance of them, or how to acquire more. It has almost become our sole purpose in this culture.
However, I do think the book got it wrong as to why he died. I'm sure he starved to death, and that starvation process started from his first days in the wild.
By , at
2/11/07 13:47
I've been thinking about this story so much. I guess that Chris was quite bitter up to the end. He knew he was dying, he left the message "God bless all", but he still didn't bother to say goodbye to his parents and his beloved sister in a note or something. I'm thinking he was quite disturbed after all
By , at
4/11/07 17:45
examine carefully of the last pic he has taken at the bus before his death.. look at his right ARM...
By irmaV3p, at
25/3/08 19:23
