“I now walk into the wild.”
Perhaps not the best frame of mind to have picked up this book. Mind already ravaged by Old Boy. Hence somewhere this was a potential disaster just itching to happen. However having already watched the film, I was not entirely unprepared for the trip. So when pushed by SG to plunge into the world of Alexander Supertramp, I did.
The book leaves me grieving, bothered,disturbed yet somewhere hopeful too. I have my issues with a narrative that is told through the author. Despite Krakauer's promise that he will remain but a shadow in the tale of Alex, it did not come across as such. Somewhere I fear Alex deserved a better story-teller.The author's presence loomed throughout in a not-so-subtle way that irked me till the point about Devil's Thumb. Then it made sense. The author's identification with Alex explains the peculiar omnipresence throughout the book. But then again, there could have and indeed should have been a far better way of putting it.
The writing style does lack the feel of a book and smells suspiciously like an article pushing the boundaries. Which is no wonder considering the author built up on exactly that. It might not be the best written book, but its subject/content is powerful. But here is the deal, not for the reasons that perhaps the book is so well-loved. Alex's journey for truth, to find himself, to be alive leaves one wishing for the same, yes. Especially for ones like me who have such a cynical disposition to the world and sometimes life. But somewhere, for somethings, I feel myself agreeing with the ones who did find fault. Perhaps if he had been better prepared, he would have survived. But then this story would never have been. The life Alex chose to live is ROMANTIC because he did not survive. Had he lived, he'd have been just another traveller and the world would have never known Alexander Supertramp. His death resulting in his story, is the reason for many to admire him and want to live that life or the romantic notion of that life.
One word that stood out for me was Hubris. I was pleasantly surprised to find that word creep into this book. But that makes sense. It is a tragedy as even the Greeks would play it. And Alex will be the hero. Fallen because of hubris. Having said that, I don't imply that he was a pigheaded, stubborn, arrogant prick. What moved me was that he was able to pursue his dream...his Odyssey..even if it was only for a while. What better way to leave this world, if not doing what you love or with those you love?
But I am jealous. Because it seems unreal and next to impossible for me to do what he did. It is Romantic. Especially in a set up in this country. What made his adventure possible was that he was NOT born in India, NOT a girl, NOT tied down to social obligations. In this country it is simply not possible to up and go. Those who think a life like Alex's is possible, perhaps are kidding themselves. Traveling without a rupee in your pocket? You won't get as far Park Circus/New Friends Colony. People here do no give lifts. PERIOD. Try that in Delhi.Just Try. People are scared/paranoid/heartless...perhaps I am generalising a bit but that's the truth. It's a dream if you want to walk Alex's road. Okay...even if you did by some divine intervention found people to keep giving you lifts to wherever it is you want to go to find yourself, you are therefore male. Imagine for one instant you are a girl. Hitchhiking? In this country? There goes my dream of being Supertramp. And coming to social obligations....we are bound to the people we know. It has been ingrained in us that family comes first. No matter how detached you think you can be, you can never truly detach yourself. It may not make a difference to your life, but there will 5 others who will be affected by your actions. Hence somewhere our actions are curbed. We live in a society where on being born our wings are clipped. We kid ourselves thinking we have learnt to fly flapping those broken wings. And perhaps we can fly just that much. That is the freedom we are allowed. We sit in our homes, write long facebook posts about freedom and wanting to be liberated but the hard truth is that this is as much freedom we will see. And we need to accept it.....at some point. Herein I envy Alex...I would like nothing best than to be on the road...to be free...to be me. But life comes with a price. Not necessarily a bad thing albeit a little stifling sometimes.
Personally what moved me to tears was the sense of loss. Death is an old friend to me, so I identify with losing someone you love. A mother's loss, a sister's loss....I identify so much with it. And so somewhere I feel anger towards Alex for being selfish. Because he was. While he justified his actions, he left behind so much pain. He went on to the great Alaskan Paradise in Heaven (???) but left behind those who will continue to feel his absence everyday. Yes people die...but somehow Alex's story could have been different and that's what makes it worse. I have lost too many people to be able to feel exactly how Billie, Walt and Carine felt. And it is not fair. The only solace I could draw that abated by anger is that perhaps towards the end, Alex realised that he cannot be alone. “HAPPINESS [is] ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” . Perhaps he did realise the worth of people and human intimacy.
I too lost an uncle to the Everest. He went on an expedition and met a blizzard and never came back. We hoped that by some miracle he would be back. His brother stopped living for 20 years...gave up everything but hope till the point came when even the hope was lost. Only solace? That mama was lost doing what he loved best. Maybe he isn't lost...maybe like Alex he just did not want to go home. But to us...we live everyday feeling the loss...
Into the Wild is a book that seems flawed but real. It doesn't inspire me to up and leave, it does however inspire me to find myself. The little that Alex did know about himself, it was crystal clear. I am nowhere close to finding such clarity. Alex inspires me to find myself.
So a note to S: Thank you for this book. Perhaps it did not evoke the kind of reactions you expected but it has evoked. That in itself is a lot. This is a book I will not forget easily, because it has not been an easy read. But it has inspired. It has motivated me enough to even write this. And for this I am grateful. So S, thank you for nudging me little further down the road to finding the truth...even if the truth is only about me...
Alexander Supertramp lives on in all of us...all those who have the privilege to dream...
Perhaps not the best frame of mind to have picked up this book. Mind already ravaged by Old Boy. Hence somewhere this was a potential disaster just itching to happen. However having already watched the film, I was not entirely unprepared for the trip. So when pushed by SG to plunge into the world of Alexander Supertramp, I did.
The book leaves me grieving, bothered,disturbed yet somewhere hopeful too. I have my issues with a narrative that is told through the author. Despite Krakauer's promise that he will remain but a shadow in the tale of Alex, it did not come across as such. Somewhere I fear Alex deserved a better story-teller.The author's presence loomed throughout in a not-so-subtle way that irked me till the point about Devil's Thumb. Then it made sense. The author's identification with Alex explains the peculiar omnipresence throughout the book. But then again, there could have and indeed should have been a far better way of putting it.
The writing style does lack the feel of a book and smells suspiciously like an article pushing the boundaries. Which is no wonder considering the author built up on exactly that. It might not be the best written book, but its subject/content is powerful. But here is the deal, not for the reasons that perhaps the book is so well-loved. Alex's journey for truth, to find himself, to be alive leaves one wishing for the same, yes. Especially for ones like me who have such a cynical disposition to the world and sometimes life. But somewhere, for somethings, I feel myself agreeing with the ones who did find fault. Perhaps if he had been better prepared, he would have survived. But then this story would never have been. The life Alex chose to live is ROMANTIC because he did not survive. Had he lived, he'd have been just another traveller and the world would have never known Alexander Supertramp. His death resulting in his story, is the reason for many to admire him and want to live that life or the romantic notion of that life.
One word that stood out for me was Hubris. I was pleasantly surprised to find that word creep into this book. But that makes sense. It is a tragedy as even the Greeks would play it. And Alex will be the hero. Fallen because of hubris. Having said that, I don't imply that he was a pigheaded, stubborn, arrogant prick. What moved me was that he was able to pursue his dream...his Odyssey..even if it was only for a while. What better way to leave this world, if not doing what you love or with those you love?
But I am jealous. Because it seems unreal and next to impossible for me to do what he did. It is Romantic. Especially in a set up in this country. What made his adventure possible was that he was NOT born in India, NOT a girl, NOT tied down to social obligations. In this country it is simply not possible to up and go. Those who think a life like Alex's is possible, perhaps are kidding themselves. Traveling without a rupee in your pocket? You won't get as far Park Circus/New Friends Colony. People here do no give lifts. PERIOD. Try that in Delhi.Just Try. People are scared/paranoid/heartless...perhaps I am generalising a bit but that's the truth. It's a dream if you want to walk Alex's road. Okay...even if you did by some divine intervention found people to keep giving you lifts to wherever it is you want to go to find yourself, you are therefore male. Imagine for one instant you are a girl. Hitchhiking? In this country? There goes my dream of being Supertramp. And coming to social obligations....we are bound to the people we know. It has been ingrained in us that family comes first. No matter how detached you think you can be, you can never truly detach yourself. It may not make a difference to your life, but there will 5 others who will be affected by your actions. Hence somewhere our actions are curbed. We live in a society where on being born our wings are clipped. We kid ourselves thinking we have learnt to fly flapping those broken wings. And perhaps we can fly just that much. That is the freedom we are allowed. We sit in our homes, write long facebook posts about freedom and wanting to be liberated but the hard truth is that this is as much freedom we will see. And we need to accept it.....at some point. Herein I envy Alex...I would like nothing best than to be on the road...to be free...to be me. But life comes with a price. Not necessarily a bad thing albeit a little stifling sometimes.
Personally what moved me to tears was the sense of loss. Death is an old friend to me, so I identify with losing someone you love. A mother's loss, a sister's loss....I identify so much with it. And so somewhere I feel anger towards Alex for being selfish. Because he was. While he justified his actions, he left behind so much pain. He went on to the great Alaskan Paradise in Heaven (???) but left behind those who will continue to feel his absence everyday. Yes people die...but somehow Alex's story could have been different and that's what makes it worse. I have lost too many people to be able to feel exactly how Billie, Walt and Carine felt. And it is not fair. The only solace I could draw that abated by anger is that perhaps towards the end, Alex realised that he cannot be alone. “HAPPINESS [is] ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” . Perhaps he did realise the worth of people and human intimacy.
I too lost an uncle to the Everest. He went on an expedition and met a blizzard and never came back. We hoped that by some miracle he would be back. His brother stopped living for 20 years...gave up everything but hope till the point came when even the hope was lost. Only solace? That mama was lost doing what he loved best. Maybe he isn't lost...maybe like Alex he just did not want to go home. But to us...we live everyday feeling the loss...
Into the Wild is a book that seems flawed but real. It doesn't inspire me to up and leave, it does however inspire me to find myself. The little that Alex did know about himself, it was crystal clear. I am nowhere close to finding such clarity. Alex inspires me to find myself.
So a note to S: Thank you for this book. Perhaps it did not evoke the kind of reactions you expected but it has evoked. That in itself is a lot. This is a book I will not forget easily, because it has not been an easy read. But it has inspired. It has motivated me enough to even write this. And for this I am grateful. So S, thank you for nudging me little further down the road to finding the truth...even if the truth is only about me...
Alexander Supertramp lives on in all of us...all those who have the privilege to dream...
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