Andrew B. Tufts
Spring 2008
Books in Action!
In April 1992 a young man from a well-to-do family hitchhiked to
The usual reaction to a movie by a particular book’s lover is one of disappointment; the movie is never able to convey the intricacies of the book or the movie has altered specific information to better fit a
The striking difference is an obvious one: visual images. McCandless left everything in order live in an area of the country which is both empty and beautiful; without personally visiting the American Southwest, it’s hard to gain an appreciation for how influential this was to McCandless. Seeing the places McCandless traveled and lived gives the viewer a sense of companionship that is lost in the book. McCandless was drawn by the spirits of adventure and unknown that drew so many West in the 1800s. His venture drew comparisons, which Krakauer addresses and explores, to that of Everett Ruess, another young boy who left his home in the early 1900s (but continued to correspond with family) for the canyons and deserts and eventually disappeared. (My wife, while living in
These places were also important to McCandless’s family, something we learn in the text but not the video. Almost a year after Chris’s body was found and returned, Krakauer took the McCandless family to the bus he had made his home in the Alaskan interior. There, his mother and father toured their son’s final home. His mother, Billie, said:
It’s comforting to know Chris was here, to know for certain that he spent time beside this river, that he stood on this patch of ground. So many places we’ve visited in the past three years – we’d wonder if possibly Chris had been there. It was terrible not knowing – not knowing anything at all (Krakauer, 1996, p. 203).
The visual images were also important in the way the audience was able to view the people McCandless came in contact with, and McCandless himself. Krakauer does a wonderful job interviewing every possible person he could get his hands on, and the book paints wonderful portraits of each person. But I think the true value of Into the Wild, as a movie, is in the depictions of the people, particularly that of Ron Franz (as played by Hal Holbrook), and McCandless’s relationships with them.
Franz was an elderly gentleman who’d lost his wife and children to a drunk driver while he was at war; McCandless (played by Emile Hirsch) gives him a “son” to care for and learn from. Their relationship blossoms over many weeks to the point where, at their final parting, Franz tearfully asks McCandless if he can adopt him in order to continue his family line. You can’t help but be moved by this man’s plea to the young McCandless to carry on his family’s name after he’s passed; Holbrook gave Franz emotion that did not come out in the book. This scene frustrated, and nearly angered, me the most.
McCandless displays borderline indifference when Franz makes this plea. The old man cries and begs and McCandless plays it off as nearly meaningless, or rather, as something that should be saved for another place and time. With many of McCandless’s personal contacts, he emphasizes a living-in-the-now mentality, but seemingly puts limits on the type of living he will engage in; specifically, he shies away from deep personal contact, a lesson he will realize in his final moments.
The last visual image that enhanced the text was Hirsch’s portrayal of McCandless during his final days in
Krakauer’s best addition to the McCandless story was his investigative attempt to understand McCandless as a “lost soul”. First, he discusses comments people made to him after his first McCandless story: a magazine article in Outdoor. Readers expressed near hatred for the risky action McCandless’s subjected himself to, for his apparent disregard for his family, and for the cavalier attitude he appeared to have by tackling the wilderness on his own. Krakauer offers a personal anecdote about climbing a mountain called the Devils Thumb, in
To the latter point, both versions of Into the Wild show how well McCandless adapted to new social groups, how he opened himself up (to the extent of discussing his family) to anyone with a willing ear, and how he willingly trusted strangers. In some ways I got the impression, throughout both narratives, that although McCandless was willing to give advice and assistance to anyone, many of his actions were selfish in nature. His relationship with Ron Franz seems indicative of this: he wanted to teach Franz to get out of his home and explore the world more, but he also wanted Franz to leave him alone, let him come and go as he pleased, and not get too attached. Krakauer allows the reader to make the case that McCandless learned this lesson while alone in
This is an issue I’ve dealt with on a few levels, specifically by working with homeless people in
The idea of “fleeing civilization” is thematic in much of Quinn’s literature, but I think it is also the lasting lesson from Chris McCandless. McCandless became disheartened by the way his parental structure was compromised by his parents’ pursuit of things he found ultimately meaningless; many of their fights were over money. McCandless witnessed the strangle-hold that money and materialism has over our society, and found that true happiness was not found in the form of a degree or title or large bank account, but in the form of personal relationships and team-living. Despite the public perception of his decision to abandon all “wealth” (in fact, a friend’s reaction to his initial reading of Into the Wild was anger toward McCandless for questioning and abandoning wealth and possessions), McCandless realized something that people are becoming more increasingly aware of: the meaning of life is not to accumulate.
It’s unfortunate that our society places so much importance on “having things”: toys, money, titles, clothes, homes. In many ways, we define success in our society by a standard unachievable by most. The Story of Stuff (http://storyofstuff.com/), a 20-minute internet movie, details how our consumer culture is fed by society’s mentality that our money, titles, clothes, homes, electronics, etc. are never good enough (and, also, that our national happiness index has slowly, but continually, plummeted). There’s always something that is better than what we have. And the only people that benefit from this way of life benefit are those who make money off our constant spending. And in order to constantly spend, we have to constantly work, which leaves less time for family, friends, and self.
And, yes, I’m ranting a bit, but this past weekend our community lost another student to suicide. Each year the suicide rate increases (The Human Odyssey, 2007), national high school dropout rates increase (Herbert, 2008, from http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/22/opinion/22herbert.html), and since the Columbine massacre a decade ago, random acts of violence have spread across the country to now include schools of all academic levels, and also shopping malls and fast-food restaurants, to name a few places traumatized during the past holiday season. The point is that, increasingly, people are becoming more disillusioned with the future they’re presented (how many depression medications are on the market now?), and more are taking their frustrations out in creative and destructive ways. Christopher McCandless was not a freak or a rare boy. I know friends of mine and even family members are scratching their heads wondering how they’re going to amass all the things considered symbols of success in our society and be happy in the process. As a future educator, I know I’m going to have students like Chris in my classes. I know there’s a life I can teach them about that is not possession driven and can also be happy, fruitful, and meaningful.
Free Range Studios. (1996). The story of stuff. Retrieved
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