I’m feeling a bit conflicted at the moment. During the Christmas holidays most recently passed, I resolved to complete a second novel I began writing shortly after finishing my first one and then promptly abandoned. Concluding that the only way to do this would be to write during my reading time, I set my book list aside and sat down at the keyboard instead. But as they say, old habits die hard and I soon found the temptation to read too difficult to resist. Succumbing first to a suspense novel, and then another and another, I really tried to practice moderation in all things but when The Lost City of Z, by David Grann was released near the end of February, the only thing that kept me from falling off the wagon completely was the time I had to wait for my turn to check the book out of our local library!
Herein lays the conflict: should I really be spending time writing a review on The Lost City of Z when I could be polishing the prose of Mil Silver and the Legend of Moroni’s Cave? It’s a sacrifice to be sure, but I’ll do it. Grann’s book is too interesting to ignore!
The Lost City of Z is subtitled: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon, and is the non-fiction account of the legendary Victorian explorer Percy H. Fawcett and his quest to find the fabled lost city of El Dorado, which he code names Z in all of his writings. I found several topics of interest in this book, many of which could command entire volumes independently. For example, in introducing the reader to Fawcett and providing the historical context for his story, the author portrays the ambition of the British in the late 1800’s to expand the empire by means of exploration and cartography, and to civilize the heathen nations in the process. But spreading Christianity, it could easily be concluded, was the noble pursuit while gaining wealth and power was the real motivation—as the author implies by including brief accounts of the impact that first the rubber barons and then the gold seekers had on the Amazon basin and its inhabitants. Near the end of the book, there is also the seemingly obligatory reference to deforestation and the environmental travesties that have occurred in the years since Colonel Fawcett made his last expedition into the Amazon rain forest in 1925.
Percy Harrison Fawcett is the central figure of the narrative, however, and about half way through the book I was struck with the thought that PHF, as he was commonly referred to by family and friends, might well have been the prototypical explorer/adventurer portrayed ever since his time in popular books and movies—the original Indiana Jones so-to-speak. Indeed as David Grann recounts in the book, Fawcett mania gripped the world for years after his disappearance, spawning books, movies, and countless copy-cat explorers, many of whom also vanished in the jungle; ostensibly trying to find and rescue Fawcett themselves! (Even the author, a New York City reporter who admittedly had never even been camping, mounted a low budget expedition into the Amazon jungle in search of Fawcett’s trail; an endeavor which many told him was foolish if not suicidal. This I found to be an interesting story within the story—especially because he should have known better.)
The Lost City of Z also captured my attention with its detailed but not laborious descriptions of jungle insects, dangerous reptiles and fish, and tropical diseases that afflict even the best equipped and well trained visitors—not to mention the several indigenous Indian tribes and their attitudes toward foreign intruders. Does the word cannibal come to mind?
Thirteen years ago, I became enchanted with extreme mountain climbers and read several books about climbing expeditions, most of which ended in doom. Over and over I kept asking myself as I studied: why would anyone want to embrace certain pain and possible death just to climb a mountain? Now I can say the same thing about jungle exploration. Why? Is there something to be gained by contracting malaria, or having live maggots growing under your skin? Does a fly that tunnels into human eye balls, lodging deep within the pupils enhance the mortal experience?
The candiru is an almost translucent, toothpick like fish that feeds on blood and is famous for burrowing into human orifices. It is plentiful in the Amazon River and its tributaries—as are piranhas. At least the latter eats you from the outside in. I prefer to pass on all of the above.
Although the snippets of history included in The Lost City of Z (including the formation of the Royal Geographical Society of London and its influence upon world exploration and discovery) provide an absorbing backdrop for the story, it is the topic of Obsession (as mentioned in the subtitle) that now occupies my thoughts. P.H. Fawcett is certainly a textbook example. Unfulfilled as an officer in the British military, he became obsessed with treasure hunting and exploration. Extreme in his Victorian upbringing, he later became engrossed in asceticism and converted to Buddhism. Still later, he began to delve into the occult and spiritualism—all the while becoming more and more obsessed with finding El Dorado; neglecting his wife and children in the process and plunging himself and his family into bankruptcy. Interestingly enough, after his disappearance, his wife Nina became obsessed with finding him to the exclusion of all common sense, as did countless others over time; including in my opinion, the author of this book--although he appears to have recovered.
Is there an internal need in all of us to find fulfillment, no matter what the fashion? Are there seeds of obsession lurking within each of us that might someday sprout and produce beautiful flowers or strangle us with deadly vines? Am I, Mil Silver, becoming obsessed with reading and writing and living in a world of make-believe? Perhaps—but at least I don’t have to worry about poison frogs or Anacondas.
The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon, by David Grann
(The description of The Lost City of Z on Amazon.com has an excellent exclusive review written by John Grisham and a nice interview with the author, David Grann, that I highly recommend for additional information.)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
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1 comment:
I read a review of this book in TIME and was intriqued that so many people (including the author) would go looking for this guy and/or Z when everyone else who had done so had disappeared or died. A deadly obsession indeed! Great write up!
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