Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild, a mega-huge bestseller about Chris McCandless (aka Alexander Supertramp), a young man who went walking into the Alaskan woods never to be seen alive again, quite simply rocks. I’m a weary nonfiction reader generally. Find nonfiction books to be dry and too historical, too school-like sometimes, but when it’s done well, it’s so fascinating that it’s a real story, that I get sucked in and can’t put the book down.
I’ve been trying to read as much outdoorsy-type nonfiction as I can these days. There’s a character in one of the stories I’m writing about Banff who loves to hike and rock climb, and since I do neither, or rather, haven’t done either in years, I want to make sure what I’m writing rings true.
Krakauer has a gift for weaving different stories into his nonfiction without them necessarily seeming incongruent. Although the book talks mainly about Chris McCandless, it’s also about Krakauer himself, as if understanding a bit more about his own character helped him to get inside the head of the boy who died so tragically. It’s a good lesson to take note of…but not like I’ll be attempting any Frey-like nonfiction memoirs anytime soon.