Many adventure writers have touched on the tension
between our ideas of civilization and wildness because we tend to be more
impressed by adventures carried out in arenas and conditions that otherwise
repel human settlement. Fredston, however, gravitates towards the areas of the
world that remain unaffected by human interests, not those considered most
challenging or difficult to conquer. She demonstrates this distinction
throughout her book, both consciously and unconsciously, making it very clear
that she considers the experience of pure, unaffected nature to be an important
and worthy reason for one to pursue outdoor adventure. She also points out
examples of how these areas of pure natural life are being threatened by human
politics and society, adding an underlying message of conservationism to the
narrative.
After spending her childhood just
outside of New York City, where even most parks were built by humans within the
last two centuries, Fredston spends the rest of her personal narrative actively
seeking areas with the least possible human settlement. This drives her
decision to move to Alaska after completing her education, explaining that “my
whole self, every fiber, craved Alaska’s uniqueness, its possibilities, its
wildness” (31). This explanation carries some important implications. Having
previously experienced the landscape of the Alaskan coastline on a wilderness
adventure trip, Fredston understood enough about the area to feel confident in
her decision to move to the state full-time. While it is worth remembering that
she writes with the advantage of hindsight, so she can frame her expectations
in reaction to her then-future experiences, the unconditional devotion to her
future life in Alaska shows how heavily her priorities are influenced by the
access to wildness. She knew nothing about the living situation or specifics of
Alaskan life, but her brief experience with the wildness of Alaska convinced
her to move there without much second thought. She expresses a similar
enthusiasm for Labrador after her rowing trip there, gush that being “able to
travel a twenty-three-day stretch without seeing or hearing any signs of modern
man” for her and Doug “revived our hope in persisting wildness” (174). This
quote clearly demonstrates how directly Fredston’s idea of wildness is tied to
the absence of humanity’s influence over nature.
Ok. My thesis has a little bit to do with conceptions of wilderness and naturalness so I thought I might comment about some of these ideas. I think its quite interesting that in prevailing American rhetoric regarding conceptions of wilderness humans are completely separate. The 1964 Wilderness Act defines wilderness as an area "untrammeled by man...where man does not remain" (1964 Wilderness Act Section 2c). William Cronon argues in his essay "The Trouble with Wilderness" that this perception of wilderness as separate from humans inhibits a strong environmental consciousness from becoming commonplace. I'm always struck by this common perception because I would consider humans to be part of nature and natural processes.
ReplyDeleteThere are a number of articles I have read this past year that describe different ways of defining naturalness, focusing on how landscapes can have varying degrees of naturalness that fall between the extremes of a wilderness ideal and constructed cityscape. I think that the way that Fredston describes the landscapes through which she travels emphasizes this idea of a naturalness gradient can be seen. She does, however, seems to place some higher significance on areas that are more natural than others.
Like Anna, my thesis deals with conceptions of wilderness, and William Cronon also came to my mind in reading this post. Though we've read about extreme climate conditions and first ascents quite a lot this semester, I have something of a distrust for the value our culture assigns to so-called "virgin" landscapes, a trap into which Fredston falls. There is certainly a compelling element in going days without encountering other humans - the awareness of the world's immensity, the fecundity of the natural world, etc - but I would preach for caution in the way we imagine "wilderness." Particularly in the Americas, what Western culture still sometimes calls the "New World," it is tempting to construct a collective memory of land "untrammeled by man," though this construction has crumbling foundation.
ReplyDeleteThis also makes me think about the construction of wilderness as a first world luxury, which only a selected few are gifted the chance to experience and ponder. I feel that it could be argued that to some degree as much as Fredston captures nature with her writing, her very presence in such an untouched area contradicts her motives of finding places devoid of human contact. This dichotomy is something that I feel that we have overlooked as a whole throughout this semester. For some reason, more and more, as I read this text the fact that she is from New York City sits less and less well with me. If by seeking the naturalness that NYC lacks by going to places that people have never been before, isn't she then perverting the what she hopes to experience? I realize this touches a lot of sensitive issues, like who deserves to go to these places and what does the place you were born affect what you are entitled to do in life, but I cannot help but to wonder.
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