Scan barcode
A review by sarahbythebook
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
challenging
sad
medium-paced
1.0
Warning in advance for a bit of a rant.
This book made me so angry. It's supposed to be the book in the someone-gets-lost-in-the-woods subgenre. However, I can't understand that as this book is irresponsible and self serving, and I my god I have nothing nice to say.
As someone who loves hiking and the outdoors, the author's rose-tinted view of this easily preventable tragedy is, in my opinion, a neglectful recounting of Chris McCandless' death. To dismiss his critics and deny the young man's hubris is dangerous, especially coming from a respected voice in the outdoor industry.
Chris had absolutely no business being in the Alaskan back country. He was ill prepared and ill informed, and the man was too pig-headed to heed the advice of those who knew better than him. Traipsing around near the Gulf of Mexico in no way prepares a person to brave the Alaskan bush off peak season.
Add to that his pseudo-intellectual fascination with Tchaikovsky and Thoreau, and Chris becomes yet another arrogant and disrespectful young man who caused harm to so many people without a thought or care for what he would leave behind in his wake.
The first rule of risky adventure is to have a plan and to have someone who knows your plan. Without that, your demise becomes your own responsibility. The author's apparent worship of what Chris did is negligent and irresponsible. The fact that the best part of this book to me is the criticisms written in by Alaskans following the initial article neatly sums up my feelings on both this tragedy and this book.
I'm not totally heartless, though I feel virtually no sympathy for Chris himself, reading about his family's trip to the bus did make me tear up. I'm sorry for the loss that they suffered because of the hubris of their son. I want to read his sister's book soon to see if that's a less bias account. Even if it isn't it would be more understandable coming from his family rather than some stranger that can see almost no wrong in Chris' actions.
This book made me so angry. It's supposed to be the book in the someone-gets-lost-in-the-woods subgenre. However, I can't understand that as this book is irresponsible and self serving, and I my god I have nothing nice to say.
As someone who loves hiking and the outdoors, the author's rose-tinted view of this easily preventable tragedy is, in my opinion, a neglectful recounting of Chris McCandless' death. To dismiss his critics and deny the young man's hubris is dangerous, especially coming from a respected voice in the outdoor industry.
Chris had absolutely no business being in the Alaskan back country. He was ill prepared and ill informed, and the man was too pig-headed to heed the advice of those who knew better than him. Traipsing around near the Gulf of Mexico in no way prepares a person to brave the Alaskan bush off peak season.
Add to that his pseudo-intellectual fascination with Tchaikovsky and Thoreau, and Chris becomes yet another arrogant and disrespectful young man who caused harm to so many people without a thought or care for what he would leave behind in his wake.
The first rule of risky adventure is to have a plan and to have someone who knows your plan. Without that, your demise becomes your own responsibility. The author's apparent worship of what Chris did is negligent and irresponsible. The fact that the best part of this book to me is the criticisms written in by Alaskans following the initial article neatly sums up my feelings on both this tragedy and this book.
I'm not totally heartless, though I feel virtually no sympathy for Chris himself, reading about his family's trip to the bus did make me tear up. I'm sorry for the loss that they suffered because of the hubris of their son. I want to read his sister's book soon to see if that's a less bias account. Even if it isn't it would be more understandable coming from his family rather than some stranger that can see almost no wrong in Chris' actions.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Animal death, Confinement, Death, and Classism