Into the Wild

Last night I learned that my father bought several books for my brother’s literature classes. This annoyed me, because such wasteful purchases should not be made until the crescendos of our economic dirges are all but murmurs – or, if ever. Indeed, my annoyance gave way to anger and self-pity when I realized that one of the books was the same book I gave to my mother for Christmas, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. How wasteful we still are! It sickens me. Recently I have forsworn buying books and instead opted for libraries; as such, everyone else should follow my lead. (Heh.)

So today, for fear that my brother would not read the books and waste my father’s money, I decided to read them. I started with a story that I knew but never approached, Into the Wild, the biography of a young man who left a modern life for vagabond travels and seclusions in nature. The author’s measured analysis of the young man’s life transcends the normal clichés of the genre. While most know the tragic fate of the traveler, the story is at its saddest when the traveler’s many acquaintances react to his demise. While the young man may have left civilization to become more human and embrace the solitude of nature, in his last days he notes that perhaps to be human is to share in these delights of nature. We should not pretend to be distant, stoic men, but men that love each other and let it be known. Otherwise, the dirge of the bells tolls for thee. 

To that end, I hope my brother reads Into the Wild and that we may let our thoughts be kown.