So, a few days ago I watched the documentary Grizzly Man and although slightly odd, it made me think. This man, Timothy Treadwell, was so in love/obsessed with grizzly bears that he became this very intense field researcher, living in the wilds of Alaska every summer for who knows how many years. That in itself isn’t strange: there are quite a few environmentalists and animal rights activists that I imagine would do the same thing. However, what was bizarre about this man is that he almost wanted to become a grizzly or at least, another type of animal. It almost seems as if he forgot that these gigantic bears were wild animals; he would try to pet them, talk to them in this high-pitched baby voice, and try to “talk them down” in a stern voice when they got too close to him. Of course, in the end, this poor guy and his girlfriend ended up getting mauled and killed by one of the more angry and mean grizzlies. Surprising? Definitely not. At the end of the day, these really cute furballs are still very large and very aggressive predators. But what I did find very surprising was the reaction that various people had to his death. Some of his friends expressed the expected sorrow at losing a loved one, but others were almost angry and spiteful towards Treadwell for going into the woods and seemingly forgetting that he was human. Sure, this man appears to wish he was a bear, and yes, that is slightly strange. But who really cares if that is what he chose to do? And why does it matter to people so much that they became vehemently angry about the topic?
It reminded me of the chaos surrounding my favorite book-turned-movie, Into the Wild. Written by Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild chronicles the life and subsequent death of Chris McCandless, a 20-something boy from a well-off family in New England. After college graduation, McCandless burns (literally: he sets the cash on fire!) all of his money and takes off into the wilds of the United States, living the vagabond lifestyle in various Western states. He eventually ends up in Alaska, where he survives in the wilderness for quite awhile before eating a poisonous plant and dying alone in his makeshift home of a school bus. The worst part of his story is that his parents and sister never knew where he was or what had become of him until after he had already died. When Krakauer originally covered the story in a brief article for Outside magazine, there was a flashflood of backlash. Tons of people wrote into the mag, praising McCandless for having the guts to be free in the wild, living the life that so many wish for. However, even more people wrote into the mag, completely disgusted and full of hatred towards McCandless for making what they deemed to be stupid and selfish decisions. The story intrigues me still.
Why do people care so much about the choices of others? To me, the tragedy of McCandless (or Supertramp as he called himself) was that he essentially blew his family off. Being super close with my family, I can never imagine doing something like that. But other than that, why the anger towards his decision to “walk into the wild?” Or for that matter, why the spiteful remarks towards Treadwell for doing the same? Other than the family thing, neither McCandless nor Treadwell hurt anyone other than themselves. And even more perplexing to me is the fact that they both died doing what they loved and what made them feel the most free. Isn’t that how everyone hopes to go in their own way? The entire controversy puzzles me. Maybe it is because I have quite a bit of the wanderlust, the vagabond in me, and I can empathize with their desire for the wild. Regardless, I think the anger stirred in some people over these two men is very bizarre and I definitely don’t understand it. Maybe everyone should take their own, personal “walk into the wild,” at least for a few days, to explore for themselves.
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