Heroic Flowers

We’ll never know it all. Try as we might to research, analyze, or justify, some things will always remain unexplainable. While the death of Chris McCandless fascinates even the most experienced outdoorsmen and chemists alike, they – and us - will never know exactly what killed him. Understandably, this fact frustrates me to no end. McCandless should have survived; he should have made it out; he was so close. At the same time, however, the uncertainty also comforts me. Why does there have to be an explanation? Is it not be enough that the young man battled, explored and coexisted with nature while woefully unprepared, and - by some fluke of rare organisms or 22-letter amino acids - succumbed to its pre-eminence? By criticizing and over-analyzing his death, we take away from the inspiring charisma and moxie that embodied his life. The sociologist Brené Brown once said in her magnificent TED talk, “religion has gone from a belief in faith and mystery, to certainty.” I believe this idea to be applicable to our analysis of Chris McCandless.  The enigmatic young man went to nature and mysteriously died, and for me that is enough. Let us rather focus on what he shows us about our relationship to nature. Let us rather focus on life.

The irony in the tale of McCandless bleeds through the pages of Into the Wild like a gutted boar, yet still I find I admire him. He gave his money to preventing world hunger, and he died of starvation (maybe). He went to nature, yet in a time of desperation found solace and safety in a man-made bus. As a Leaver, he couldn’t cross the river and became trapped in the wild, but a technological zip-line near him could have been his salvation. The subtle mistakes made along his journey led to his downfall, but not only did Chris McCandless never lose his hope, he never lost his happiness and staggering joie-de-vivre. As Shakespeare said, "And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything." McCandless was able to find happiness through the world around him. By driving away, he evaded the broader constructs of a society built on pragmatism and reason, and instead chose to focus on the development of his own peace of mind. As Thoreau implores of us in Walden, “simplify, simplify, simplify.” Everything about Into the Wild implies that McCandless renounced his worldly possessions and brought it all back to the basics, and everything implies that he found happiness in doing so. Even while dying, he manages to admire the blueberries around him and the wonderful life he has had. We could learn a thing or two from him.

So what does McCandless teach us about our relationship to nature? The simple, ubiquitously discussed answer is that we are far-removed and will only destroy the world if we carry on as we are, and thus Chris’ actions are admirable and politically correct. Perhaps this is true, but a complex human such as Chris deserves a more complex conclusion. I believe that Chris shows us that nature is dangerous. It is difficult. It is uncontrollable and inexplainable. And for that we fear it, and we try to make it logical like we do with Chris’ death. But I believe this wholehearted adventurer shows us that the path to our happiness - the path to righteousness even - doesn’t necessarily correspond to the safe, explainable, or easy way. Sometimes, to find fulfillment, we have to do what’s difficult. Chris felt the Call of the Wild more acutely than anyone I have ever heard of. In his quest for his true path, he died, but he also managed to break the bonds of society and find nature in a way I wish I could. As George Carlin says, “I like it when a flower or a little tuft of grass grows through a crack in the concrete. It’s so fuckin’ heroic.” Chris was a hero and a martyr, and despite the obnoxious human tendency to criticize, I will never believe otherwise.

The Willmore Range, Alberta, CA