Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer
I approached this book with a bit of trepidation (the kid dies, you know?). In no time, that unease was joined with disapproval of the boy’s arrogance and the author’s quest to justify McCandless’ behavior as well as suspicion that, despite the author’s protests to the contrary, McCandless was mentally ill. I am almost finished with the book, and my feelings and judgments remain unresolved, because there is much to admire in the boy and many missing facts.
[As an aside, I am at a place in my life where judgments are problematic. Life used to be very black and white for me, but not anymore. Well, that is not true. In the past two or three years, I have grown up a little, and while life remains mostly black and white, I respect that there are shades of grey for me and that situations in which people who are not me find themselves are necessarily grey to me. [As an aside from that aside, I am an attorney, and in my current position, I must make judgments every day. That is a whole different subject.] So, the "review" of Into the Wild is more about how I am coming to terms with the story than a judgment of McCandless. I am not comfortable with judging him without all the evidence. On the other hand, based on the book and my own experiences, I am not comfortable with his behavior. [Hmm, having come to the end, I judged more than I expected that I would. Well, I tried.]]
I understand that escape to the wild, to the very basics of life, to one’s own strength alone, and from the trappings and bonds of civilization and our modern and sometimes arbitrary society, is a powerful lure or compulsion to some. It is not, in and of itself, a sign of mental illness or a character flaw (says me, who is not a psychologist or a consistently reliable judge of character). My level of stress or frustration or plain old boredom can be gauged by the frequency of my thoughts and fantasies about being lost in a northern wilderness for at least a month, relying on skills, courage and grit, but no other person. Of course, I don’t have any of the skills I envision myself employing to great advantage and success in this adventure (more on those skills another time), and since this is my fantasy, it is an adventure and not a tragedy. A thread of guilt attends these musings, because of the number of people who would be affected by such a disappearance - loved ones, friends, coworkers, and police and search and rescue professionals. (I almost said "negatively affected," but that’s obvious, no? If there are folks who would be pleased with my disappearance... well, screw ‘em.)
That is my problem with McCandless’ story. His sister was apparently the most important person in his world, but he left her with no explanation, no apparent concern for the torture he caused her. (My problem. I am left with the perception from the book that she is at peace. I am glad if that is true, and I recognize that I do not have the whole story.) The author posits the theory that his father’s behavior and his mother’s complicity were so unforgiveable to McCandless to justify his cruel disregard for them. (Yeah, I have sons, I am far from perfect, and it’s Mother’s Day as I write this, so this theory, the whole story, hit a nerve.) The negativity, the hatefulness at times and the disinterest at others, that marked the boy’s attitude toward his family and community that raised him, are palpable and inexplicable to me. (It’s all about me. Well, yeah. All I have is my perception. What makes a person mature in part is the ability to recognize that about one’s self and others. So if I am the center of my perception and my world, you must occupy the same place in yours. Having compassion and respect for that, and the impact one has on others, is a large part of what makes us mature.) The author explains that McCandless could not tolerate behavior that did not meet his brutally high expectations. I suppose that is an explanation, but his lack of compassion for human failings, his failure to accept or respect the ideas that his way was not the only way and that everyone unlike him was not a failure or an insult to humanity, nature or McCandless himself are disturbing. To me, not a doctor, not a psychologist, who doesn’t even play one on tv, it smacks of antisocial or sociopathic behavior.
I looked it up. Wikipedia says:
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders fourth edition, DSM IV-TR = 301.7, a widely used manual for diagnosing mental disorders, defines antisocial personality disorder (in Axis II Cluster B) as:
A) There is a pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others occurring for as long as either childhood, or in the case of many who are influenced by environmental factors, around age 15, as indicated by three or more of the following:
1.failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest;
2.deceitfulness, as indicated by repeatedly lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure;
3.impulsivity or failure to plan ahead;
4.irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults;
5.reckless disregard for safety of self or others;
6.consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations;
7.lack of remorse, as indicated by indifference to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another;
B) The individual is at least 18 years of age.
C) There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset before age 15 years.
D) The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or a manic episode.
1.failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest;
2.deceitfulness, as indicated by repeatedly lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure;
3.impulsivity or failure to plan ahead;
4.irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults;
5.reckless disregard for safety of self or others;
6.consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations;
7.lack of remorse, as indicated by indifference to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another;
B) The individual is at least 18 years of age.
C) There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset before age 15 years.
D) The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or a manic episode.
Wikipedia goes on to state that psychopathy was, until 1980, the term used for a personality disorder characterized by an abnormal lack of empathy combined with strongly amoral conduct but masked by an ability to appear outwardly normal. The article also mentions David T. Lykken who felt that psychopaths were distinct from other antisocial disorders and were born with temperamental differences such as impulsivity, cortical underarousal, and fearlessness that lead them to risk-seeking behavior and an inability to internalize social norms.
Again, without more information, and a degree and a license, I could not assess him. However, parts of these definitions are reflected in McCandless’ behavior. One that does not is amorality. The boy had a highly developed and strict moral code of his own.
I raise the question of a diagnosis not to say that McCandless was ill. I do it, because I think that the author is mistaken to make a blanket assessment that the boy was not ill. His behavior had many red flags, which would warrant investigation if the boy was still alive. Whether a diagnosis would be appropriate and what it would be, I cannot say.
No doubt, the boy could be charming, loveable and a welcomed part of a community, but strangers enjoyed this gift of his, while parents, sister and friends were abandoned with apparent ease. I would venture a guess that his ability and desire to be part of a community had much to do with the freedom he had to engage and disengage at will. Perhaps the pressure of familial roles, his rigid standards and resentment of his father, and the gravity of home forced him to make a clean, if brutal, break. His new friends were important, but he carried his own identity to those relationships and made a break whenever he felt so driven. It is a variation on "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" He could have the pleasure and support of relationships without the hard parts. The new friendships were on his terms, while his old life required give and take and no small amount of conformity.
I can understand those feelings. I have often thought of chucking it all and moving someplace new and different to start anew. I have always loved to move. Change is good. For me, however, "chucking it all" could not include family and friends, even if I moved.
I have a friend who took off on an adventure as a teenager, a trip across the United States on a bicycle. S. has commented that he felt a kinship or understanding of McCandless. Adventure, independence, wanderlust, self-sufficiency, extremes, the test of oneself - yes, those commonalities exist between my friend and McCandless. I respect that, and to a limited extent, I understand. (I have not stepped out to take off on such an adventure so my understanding is very imperfect. Also, my understanding is imperfect, because I am neither McCandless nor my friend.) There is a crucial - crucial - difference between S. and McCandless. S. discussed his journey with his family, and he accommodated their concerns. He did not abandon his dream, but he did not abandon his family either. He took off on an adventure, with respect for his family while his family also respected his plan, his drive and his abilities. I wonder what would have happened if McCandless had been straight with his family. Would he have received the support he needed to fulfill his goal? Did he have the capacity to adjust to his family’s needs, maybe for communication or further preparation? Was his dream dependent upon the brutal break? I think that, in his mind, it was. I don’t think it had to be. The end result of McCandless’ adventure was tragedy, with unresolved questions. The end result of S.’s adventure was a nationwide network of friends, a huge physical accomplishment, a variety of experiences in employment, the outdoors and with people, a lust for more adventure, an education in the nation, its people and himself, and the confirmation of his own capabilities, independence and judgment. Oh, and he came home and has what appears to be a great relationship with family and friends.
So, McCandless’ abandonment of his family makes it difficult for me to find the good in this story. There is good in it, though. The cost was too high, but there was some good in it. As the author points out, McCandless survived on his wits, hand-me-down boots, a guide to edible plants, a gun and a little rice for weeks in the Alaskan bush. Granted, his location was hardly remote by Alaskan standards, but the quality of that location was such to make his accomplishment impressive. The good in the story is that he did well before he went into the bush and for a time in the bush despite his poor preparations. The good in the story is that he found much joy in the bush.
Again, without more information, and a degree and a license, I could not assess him. However, parts of these definitions are reflected in McCandless’ behavior. One that does not is amorality. The boy had a highly developed and strict moral code of his own.
I raise the question of a diagnosis not to say that McCandless was ill. I do it, because I think that the author is mistaken to make a blanket assessment that the boy was not ill. His behavior had many red flags, which would warrant investigation if the boy was still alive. Whether a diagnosis would be appropriate and what it would be, I cannot say.
No doubt, the boy could be charming, loveable and a welcomed part of a community, but strangers enjoyed this gift of his, while parents, sister and friends were abandoned with apparent ease. I would venture a guess that his ability and desire to be part of a community had much to do with the freedom he had to engage and disengage at will. Perhaps the pressure of familial roles, his rigid standards and resentment of his father, and the gravity of home forced him to make a clean, if brutal, break. His new friends were important, but he carried his own identity to those relationships and made a break whenever he felt so driven. It is a variation on "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" He could have the pleasure and support of relationships without the hard parts. The new friendships were on his terms, while his old life required give and take and no small amount of conformity.
I can understand those feelings. I have often thought of chucking it all and moving someplace new and different to start anew. I have always loved to move. Change is good. For me, however, "chucking it all" could not include family and friends, even if I moved.
I have a friend who took off on an adventure as a teenager, a trip across the United States on a bicycle. S. has commented that he felt a kinship or understanding of McCandless. Adventure, independence, wanderlust, self-sufficiency, extremes, the test of oneself - yes, those commonalities exist between my friend and McCandless. I respect that, and to a limited extent, I understand. (I have not stepped out to take off on such an adventure so my understanding is very imperfect. Also, my understanding is imperfect, because I am neither McCandless nor my friend.) There is a crucial - crucial - difference between S. and McCandless. S. discussed his journey with his family, and he accommodated their concerns. He did not abandon his dream, but he did not abandon his family either. He took off on an adventure, with respect for his family while his family also respected his plan, his drive and his abilities. I wonder what would have happened if McCandless had been straight with his family. Would he have received the support he needed to fulfill his goal? Did he have the capacity to adjust to his family’s needs, maybe for communication or further preparation? Was his dream dependent upon the brutal break? I think that, in his mind, it was. I don’t think it had to be. The end result of McCandless’ adventure was tragedy, with unresolved questions. The end result of S.’s adventure was a nationwide network of friends, a huge physical accomplishment, a variety of experiences in employment, the outdoors and with people, a lust for more adventure, an education in the nation, its people and himself, and the confirmation of his own capabilities, independence and judgment. Oh, and he came home and has what appears to be a great relationship with family and friends.
So, McCandless’ abandonment of his family makes it difficult for me to find the good in this story. There is good in it, though. The cost was too high, but there was some good in it. As the author points out, McCandless survived on his wits, hand-me-down boots, a guide to edible plants, a gun and a little rice for weeks in the Alaskan bush. Granted, his location was hardly remote by Alaskan standards, but the quality of that location was such to make his accomplishment impressive. The good in the story is that he did well before he went into the bush and for a time in the bush despite his poor preparations. The good in the story is that he found much joy in the bush.
What makes it tragic is that it is conceivable that McCandless, with a little quality preparation, could have survived. At the time that he discovered his plan to hike out across the river was flawed in that the river was impassable, there was in place a means of crossing the river by a basket and wire very close to him. Without preparation, without maps, he did not know, and he died. It’s hard not to agree with the folks who think he died due to arrogance, lack of respect for the wild, and immaturity. Immaturity has killed many young men.
I don’t think that he went out to the bush to die. McCandless appeared to have a zest for life on his terms, ala his heroes, like John Muir, and a drive to expand his boundaries. He seemed comfortable with the idea that his terms could cost him his life.
I don’t think he lacked respect for the wild. McCandless, as portrayed in this book, loved the wild, almost to worship. He craved the solitude, the intimacy with the wilderness imposed by his daily efforts to survive.
Arrogance? Probably. He was very young, with rigid and high standards. Then again, what appeared to be arrogance could also be explained as an unwillingness to change his plan. Is there a difference? Not really. If his journey required going into the wild with little or no tools, he did that. The difference is one of degree and lies in whether he chose to stick to a plan, with the understanding that the advice of experienced friends and acquaintances was good, even if he chose not to take it, or he just ignored sound advice, feeling that he knew better. How do we figure that out? His plan was arrogant, because it ignored the wisdom developed over hundreds, thousands, of years of human history. If he chose the path purposefully, as the ultimate test without outside help, then I can find some value in his methods and planning. (This theory is somewhat belied by the fact that he did have some clothes, some entertainment, some food and weapons, and even a book about edible plants.) If he walked out in the woods, believing he did not need maps, advice, the accumulation of human knowledge on the subject of survival in the Alaskan bush, then he was terminally foolish.
I suppose the conclusion with which I am left is that there are two stories about McCandless. One was how McCandless gave up all of the relationships he had for his adventure. I am sorrowed by the pain he caused them, but more importantly because it just did not seem necessary. Relationships require balance between one’s own needs and the needs of others. To only service one side of the equation is to fail. McCandless chose not to attempt a balance, a poor choice with consequences reaching far beyond himself.
The other story is the adventure itself. I admire the grit and tenacity McCandless showed in accomplishing his dream. He touched several people profoundly, and he had the potential for great things. His success was remarkable, but he flew too close to the sun and perished.
I don’t think that he went out to the bush to die. McCandless appeared to have a zest for life on his terms, ala his heroes, like John Muir, and a drive to expand his boundaries. He seemed comfortable with the idea that his terms could cost him his life.
I don’t think he lacked respect for the wild. McCandless, as portrayed in this book, loved the wild, almost to worship. He craved the solitude, the intimacy with the wilderness imposed by his daily efforts to survive.
Arrogance? Probably. He was very young, with rigid and high standards. Then again, what appeared to be arrogance could also be explained as an unwillingness to change his plan. Is there a difference? Not really. If his journey required going into the wild with little or no tools, he did that. The difference is one of degree and lies in whether he chose to stick to a plan, with the understanding that the advice of experienced friends and acquaintances was good, even if he chose not to take it, or he just ignored sound advice, feeling that he knew better. How do we figure that out? His plan was arrogant, because it ignored the wisdom developed over hundreds, thousands, of years of human history. If he chose the path purposefully, as the ultimate test without outside help, then I can find some value in his methods and planning. (This theory is somewhat belied by the fact that he did have some clothes, some entertainment, some food and weapons, and even a book about edible plants.) If he walked out in the woods, believing he did not need maps, advice, the accumulation of human knowledge on the subject of survival in the Alaskan bush, then he was terminally foolish.
I suppose the conclusion with which I am left is that there are two stories about McCandless. One was how McCandless gave up all of the relationships he had for his adventure. I am sorrowed by the pain he caused them, but more importantly because it just did not seem necessary. Relationships require balance between one’s own needs and the needs of others. To only service one side of the equation is to fail. McCandless chose not to attempt a balance, a poor choice with consequences reaching far beyond himself.
The other story is the adventure itself. I admire the grit and tenacity McCandless showed in accomplishing his dream. He touched several people profoundly, and he had the potential for great things. His success was remarkable, but he flew too close to the sun and perished.
I think the conclusion to be drawn here is the same one to be drawn from all stories of survival (or failure to survive):
You damned well better be paying attention.
You damned well better be paying attention.
