A Book Review of Sorts

I recently and unwittingly picked up a book that entirely changed my perception of 'wilderness.' This book, David Oates' Paradise Wild, was simply another inconspicuous component of the domino-ing library shelves. It mere chance that I singled it out and skimmed over the synopsis. Gay ex-Baptist mountaineer with a degree in Victorian Literature? Color me interested. I thought such a perspective might have something unique to offer, after all, no such narrative had crossed my path ever before. So I absconded with the volume into the refuge of the Allen Reading Room, a glass-plated sanctuary already brimming with students anticipating the guillotine of remaining finals. There I came to rest in a decent comfortable armchair that was located perhaps uncomfortably to another reader who accepted my presence grudgingly. What follows comes directly from the unassuming pages of said book. I have no creative spin to put on the content. I simply find the ideas to be rather enriching and certainly worth sharing.

The focus of the few chapters I've devoured so far has been humanity's false dichotomy between wilderness and civilization. It is commonly thought that man and nature are two mutually exclusive entities. Wherever we go, the integrity of the land disappears. If a man has laid tracks in a previously unexplored land, it seems to lose some of its original awe-inspiring power. We tend to characterize wilderness as an untouched Eden, something that exists entirely outside of our existences. Oates' argument, however, is that this Eden has practically never existed. Man has almost always had a hand in shaping in what we think of as unadulterated nature. His main example here are the Native Americans. Far more populous before contact with European diseases that were so lovingly conferred, Native Americans had been tending to the 'wilderness' for centuries. What the colonists saw upon arrival was actually the result of active management techniques such as controlled burns and the like. There just weren't many Indians around to show for it at the time. The point being: man has historically lived in concert with what we perceive as wilderness. As such, Oates demands a new definition of the term. What he comes up with though, is more of a philosophy.

Oates posits that instead of incessantly striving after an ever-shrinking and idealized wilderness, we should embrace the wildness of life. This is something very different. It is something that is even domestically attainable. Since we humans are animals too, we cannot separate ourselves from the unpredictability of living in a natural world. We tend to sand all the corners we can, but we what we really need is the occasional jab to remind us of what cannot be tamed. This wildness is recognizing that some things are beyond our control. After all, that's what our forays into the wild are all about: losing ourselves in the majesty of things unknowable. Nonetheless, Oates rattles out a diatribe of sorts against the perversion of this ideal. Those who profess their deepest love for wilderness often come to treat it as a collectible. Instead of finding shelter in its profundity, it has become a matter of "How many peaks can I climb in as many days?" or "I've been to every national park in the continental United States and have the patches to show for it." In the end, our wildernesses come off as wholly misinterpreted by even those who demand its preservation most. With its popularity comes a systematic degradation. The old paradox of destroying what you love. How can you escape into the unfettered beauty of the natural world when you're following a well-defined trail, accompanied by dozens of other like-minded folk. I think this is an issue we've all encountered. Coming across another hiker deep in the woods or high up a mountain, you secretly decry them for marring the purity of your communion with nature. It becomes a matter of proprietorship. But this is certainly not how we should treat our environment. And thus it comes down to the fact that we need to reshape our relationship to 'wilderness' and even how it is defined.


So I'm only about 35 pages into the book so far. I think that was an accurate enough summation of themes. We'll see what other revelations may be in store. I definitely recommend it from some enlightening reading. The whole concept of inner wildness versus wilderness was rather profound for me. It'll certainly lend a bit of perspective to my next jaunt through Pt. Reyes. I had already been contemplating the implications of its congestion, struggling to find paths less-trodden, but now I'm seeing our entirely perception needs to change. I don't think any of intend to abuse what we so love. But we need to inform our love with this tidbit of philosophical perspective. So tread lightly fellow adventurers, and consider the reasons why we go into nature in the first place. Should it be for bragging rights, or something more profound and difficult to define? Oates would argue the latter. He would also note that this somewhat ambiguous 'wildness' is available more locally than we might imagine. To make a bit of a connection, I think it's fair to say that this sort of wildness thrives in music, and in metal especially. The chaos of metal is one of the reasons I love it so much. It taps into something a bit more primal and unrestrained. So yeah. There's that for you.


And just for kicks: