What’s the most annoying trope in books or movies?
The McGuffin. A thing chased for the sake of being chased. It only works because humans, like dogs, are programmed to chase certain things without a good sense of whether it’s worth it or what would happen if one ever caught it.
Author Site
Andrea Wulf once again introduces us to a person most of us have no knowledge of, but should. A few years back I read, “The Invention of Nature,” which was about the life and work of Alexander Von Humboldt. This book tells the story of the short life of George Forster, who — like von Humboldt — was a naturalist and explorer. In fact, von Humboldt considered Forster one of his mentors.
The name of this book could not be more apt. It’s not just about a man who went places, that’s a shallow definition of “traveler.” Rather, it is about one who was philosophically a traveler — i.e. one who shed biases and any pretense of superiority of his native culture over those with which he would come into contact so that his mind was ready to learn — always. George Forster traveled on Captain Cook’s second expedition, sailing through the Atlantic, across the Indian Ocean, all around Polynesia, and eventually back to England — perilously almost getting down to Antarctica in the process. George was ostensibly on the ship as assistant and draftsman to his father, Reinhold. However, George impressed more than his father, particularly through his publications after the voyage. In fact, George’s open-mindedness was all the more impressive because he got none of it from his father, who traveled about (like virtually all Westerners of that day) believing in the inherent inferiority of non-European peoples.
One reason why Forster is more obscure than his “mentee,” von Humboldt (besides the fact that von Humboldt lived / worked about twice as long) is the path of Forster’s life through the latter portion of the book. Forester’s belief in equality wasn’t limited to Pacific Islanders, he stayed true to the notion at home. He, therefore, was a supporter of the French Revolution (though he lost some taste for it in the wake of the guillotine-happy regimes that followed but still believed in the overarching goal of casting off the shackles of royalty.) Because of his support for Revolution, he was deemed a traitor by many European thinkers who had held him in the highest esteem when his support for equality was an academic abstraction (though many of them probably secretly thought him daft for believing that Tahitians [and, for that matter, women] were people, too.) At any rate, his renown plummeted, thus contributing to the fact that he’s not a household name today.
In addition to the thrill of his maritime adventures and the peril of his Revolutionary politics, there is a fair amount of family drama throughout the book. Early on said drama centers on Reinhold, but later it is the wife that cuckolds him, Therese, who takes centerstage.
I found this book highly readable. It’s not your run-of-the-mill biography of an 18th century naturalist. It’s engaging and illuminating, and I’d highly recommend it for Travelers.
I will admit that I’m quite jaded, but the only place I need my faith in people COMPLETELY restored is online. Almost anytime I interact with real people in the real world I come away with a sense that people are generally good and mostly trying to do right (in as much as they can determine what “good” and “right” mean in our complicated world.) However, as soon as one allows for anonymity, shittiness blossoms — whether that anonymity is due to the nature of the online world or because one is otherwise not interacting face-to-face or because one (while not strictly anonymous) is homogenized by life inside an echo chamber.
Huh, maybe I do need my faith in people restored because I guess I’m saying that people in the light of day are loveable but in the dark they slouch toward depravity. Maybe we’ll figure it out. For most of humanity’s existence, anonymity was not an option. There’s no hiding in a tribe. It’s all part of what our species is working out, I suppose. I suspect that most people if given the choice between having the ill-gotten gains of their anonymity or being truly and deeply seen would opt for the latter.
I’m not big on tabulating the “best” this or that. It feels like it hamstrings experience and puts one in a comparison mode in which one is always living half in the past. If it looks good, eat it, and then move on to the next experience — giving that experience your presence.
Recognize that your experience of the world is not the world, itself. You have tremendous (potentially complete) control over the former, but virtually no control over the latter. #SakshiBhava
No. I do not think everything happens for a reason, but I do think it is beneficial to see the positive in challenging life events. Both approaches serve to keep one from feeling victimized by life, but the latter doesn’t require that one believe in some grand architect twiddling the dials on one’s life events — and isn’t a Panglossian rationalization.
The Traveler: One Man’s Quest for Humanity from the South Seas to Revolutionary Paris by Andrea Wulf
Tiger Riding for Beginners 