It’s been a while since I did a book review, mainly because I actually started and then abandoned two works since the last one: The Death Gate Cycle by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (boring, soulless) and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin (good grief, REALLY boring). So I decided to go back to Bill Bryson, one of my standbys.
The full title here is A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail. It’s Bryson doing more travel writing, which is probably my favorite kind of work from him. His science writing is great, but there’s nothing quite as entertaining as going along with Bryson for a walk through America/England/Australia/Wherever and listening to him tell you all about it. For sure he mixes in educational tidbits on flora, fauna, history, and science, but most of it is just him being wryly funny about everything he encounters while trying to walk the famous Appalachian Trail.
For those of you who don’t know, the Appalachian Trail is over 2,000 miles of hiking trails that stretch from Georgia to Maine. Seriously, from Georgia to Maine. People actually walk the whole thing, though Bryson set his sights slightly lower, taking a couple of long treks with his childhood friend Katz (a recovering alcoholic and drug fiend who is comically unsuited for such a grueling endeavor) and a series of smaller samplings of the trail in the form of day hikes. Bryson obviously loves this kind of stuff, and it shows. Screeds against inconsiderate fellow hikers and the Army Corps of Engineers are interrupted by usually (though not always) interesting discussions about the ecosystem surrounding the trail or the history of the locations it passes through.
Like most of Bryson’s stuff, you rarely have to wait long between the funny bits, and you learn something along the way. What’s not to like about that?
I haven’t read any of Bryson’s travel stuff. I need to get my hands on some. Funny thing about Weiss and Hickman is that I loved the first three Dragonlance books they wrote (Autumn, Spring, and Winter dragons or something). Those books graduated me from the choose you own adventure books from Dungeons and Dragons to reading ‘real’ books. I then read the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings series, but after that I stopped reading Fantasy stuff altogether. Years later as an adult, Weiss and Hickman came out with another Dragonlance series. I was so excited. I couldn’t even get through half the book it was so lame. I don’t know if it was because of there writing, or if I am just a crusty old dude now. I thought about re-reading the first series again but don’t want to ruin my childhood memories that they were great books. I had a similar experience with a favorite TV series as a kid (A-Team). I can’t believe I watched that crap.
One of my favorite Bryson quotes is from an interview he did for Salon.com about hiking the Appalachian for the book:
“I hated 98.8 percent of it. There were moments of genuine exultation when the sun comes out and spring is coming and you crest a mountaintop and you get a great view. But most of the time it’s either just boring as hell, or you’re cold or wet or uncomfortable. Most of the time if you’re honest, you don’t want to be there. You want to be somewhere else where you are more comfortable. I suppose it’s like any kind of penance. It’s worth it because you get so much out of it. It’s worth it just for those moments of exultation.”
David, yeah I know what you mean. There’s very little in modern fantasy that I would recommend without reservation to someone who isn’t already into the genre. The Harry Potter stuff and Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire are really good, but the rest is just there for those of us who can’t help ourselves. Even supposed classics like the Thomas Covenant books just struck me as awful.
Coincidentally, I was cleaning out my Mom’s attic earlier this week and found my original Dragonlance paperbacks. I’m hanging on to them, but I’m afraid to actually re-read them for the reason you mention.
Bethany, I’d buy that. The AT seems like a case where the destination (the finish line) is the thing, not the journey. Because then you get to say you did it.