_Kon-Tiki_, Thor Heyerdahl
Jan. 23rd, 2018 09:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
walkitoutThis was a Mayberry (<— not its real name), NH public library book group selection. The weather in southern New Hampshire last night was a bit colder than predicted, so the rain froze. The roads were icy. And NH doesn’t treat its roads as much as Massachusetts does, in part because so many people have shallow wells and the salt contaminates the water. While I have Blizzaks on my i3, as I was approaching the library on 130, having successfully and obliviously traveled over several hills, I slid unexpectedly across the double yellow on a patch of black ice. Startling! That probably explains why the police car was a bit further up the road by the corner store with its flashers on.
Another member of book group had canceled due to unwillingness to travel on those icy roads. Yet another member sent email round saying she had car trouble and could anyone give her a ride to and from? I thought about going, but then I thought about that icy patch that sent me across the divider on a 2 lane numbered road. Also, that member is a friend of mine, and the road to her house is steep and winding. And if you lose it going down the hill, there’s a body of water there to meet you. I consulted with the librarian and the two other people working that night, and they were pretty adamant that I should not go up that road. So I called my friend and asked her just how icy that road was and she helpfully pointed out that in addition to it probably being icy, even the approaching roads would likely be treacherous. Hmm. I have a cell phone. It has a “speaker” button. I said I’d call her back when the group — such as it was — was going to start chatting and we’d have a short discussion including her. This was agreeable.
So the group was the librarian, me, and my friend on the icy hill. If I’d been thinking clearly, I might have been more ambitious and tried to loop in the woman who decided not to drive that night, but it didn’t occur to me until later. We had a nice chat for about 40 minutes and I left early. By the time I was down into Massachusetts, the ice had been replaced by wet roads, still nothing to laugh about, but much, much less treacherous.
We all loved _Kon-Tiki_. Everyone was on a reread (we’d all read it decades ago, and were interested to see how it compared to our recollection). None of us had really picked up on the racist elements at the time — we felt a little bad about our past obliviousness. While one of our number perceived the racism as the “they’re like children” variety, I saw more racism in Heyerdahl’s constant focus on red-haired and light skinned, bearded groups of people in pre-history (to be fair, this was Such a Thing, E.E. “Doc” Smith’s books are all about this nonsense as well, altho in that case, it’s more a future history thing as well, but with all kinds of eugenics embedded in it).
I remembered loving _Kon-Tiki_ for the descriptions of the interactions with marine life, and on this reread, that struck me as completely wonderful once again. I don’t think I recalled at all the war stories in the background of Heyerdahl and the various other men on the raft. I never thought to wonder what happened to Heyerdahl’s wife (not clear whether I could have answered any of those questions back then, if I had had them). Wikipedia to the rescue! As you would expect of someone who produced such compelling expeditions, Heyerdahl had all the characteristics of an impresario, including the relentless self-promotion, shading of the truth and real difficulties sustaining intimate relationships or, really family relationships at all.
For all that Heyerdahl fell for some complete bullshit “translation” of the rongo rongo texts (yeah, there _still_ isn’t any meaningful translation of them) and added that to some extremely thin mentions in other legend of lighter skinned and/or red headed people(s) by people who may or may not have been humoring him, Heyerdahl was right when he said that it was possible to cross that ocean in that direction, and maybe other directions as well. Other people developed this aspect of his work further:
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vital_Alsar_Pacific_raft_expeditions
If you happen to know of a good book about those, I’d love to read it.
This is my second travel narrative this year (_Go Home, Oaxaca, You’re Drunk_ was the first), and based on this very small sample size, I have to wonder if really rollicking travel narratives tend to be written by slightly mad men who plan and prepare poorly if at all, who are overly attracted to the bright and shiny, who blithely take on excessive risk and generally behave like asses. Fun and funny asses, but asses. Something about a good adventure is someone else having a helluva time a long ways away.
ETA: There has been a solo raft expedition, using a redwood log raft, from California to Guam across the North Pacific.
http://www.sfgate.com/news/article/Guinness-world-record-holder-prepares-to-sail-2778570.php
The Kon Tiki 2 sailed from South America to Easter Island and partway back before deciding to terminate the expedition and be rescued (two rafts, balsa, half women crew, woman skipper, truly world class scientists on board).
http://www.kontiki2.com/
ETA: Book number 8
Another member of book group had canceled due to unwillingness to travel on those icy roads. Yet another member sent email round saying she had car trouble and could anyone give her a ride to and from? I thought about going, but then I thought about that icy patch that sent me across the divider on a 2 lane numbered road. Also, that member is a friend of mine, and the road to her house is steep and winding. And if you lose it going down the hill, there’s a body of water there to meet you. I consulted with the librarian and the two other people working that night, and they were pretty adamant that I should not go up that road. So I called my friend and asked her just how icy that road was and she helpfully pointed out that in addition to it probably being icy, even the approaching roads would likely be treacherous. Hmm. I have a cell phone. It has a “speaker” button. I said I’d call her back when the group — such as it was — was going to start chatting and we’d have a short discussion including her. This was agreeable.
So the group was the librarian, me, and my friend on the icy hill. If I’d been thinking clearly, I might have been more ambitious and tried to loop in the woman who decided not to drive that night, but it didn’t occur to me until later. We had a nice chat for about 40 minutes and I left early. By the time I was down into Massachusetts, the ice had been replaced by wet roads, still nothing to laugh about, but much, much less treacherous.
We all loved _Kon-Tiki_. Everyone was on a reread (we’d all read it decades ago, and were interested to see how it compared to our recollection). None of us had really picked up on the racist elements at the time — we felt a little bad about our past obliviousness. While one of our number perceived the racism as the “they’re like children” variety, I saw more racism in Heyerdahl’s constant focus on red-haired and light skinned, bearded groups of people in pre-history (to be fair, this was Such a Thing, E.E. “Doc” Smith’s books are all about this nonsense as well, altho in that case, it’s more a future history thing as well, but with all kinds of eugenics embedded in it).
I remembered loving _Kon-Tiki_ for the descriptions of the interactions with marine life, and on this reread, that struck me as completely wonderful once again. I don’t think I recalled at all the war stories in the background of Heyerdahl and the various other men on the raft. I never thought to wonder what happened to Heyerdahl’s wife (not clear whether I could have answered any of those questions back then, if I had had them). Wikipedia to the rescue! As you would expect of someone who produced such compelling expeditions, Heyerdahl had all the characteristics of an impresario, including the relentless self-promotion, shading of the truth and real difficulties sustaining intimate relationships or, really family relationships at all.
For all that Heyerdahl fell for some complete bullshit “translation” of the rongo rongo texts (yeah, there _still_ isn’t any meaningful translation of them) and added that to some extremely thin mentions in other legend of lighter skinned and/or red headed people(s) by people who may or may not have been humoring him, Heyerdahl was right when he said that it was possible to cross that ocean in that direction, and maybe other directions as well. Other people developed this aspect of his work further:
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vital_Alsar_Pacific_raft_expeditions
If you happen to know of a good book about those, I’d love to read it.
This is my second travel narrative this year (_Go Home, Oaxaca, You’re Drunk_ was the first), and based on this very small sample size, I have to wonder if really rollicking travel narratives tend to be written by slightly mad men who plan and prepare poorly if at all, who are overly attracted to the bright and shiny, who blithely take on excessive risk and generally behave like asses. Fun and funny asses, but asses. Something about a good adventure is someone else having a helluva time a long ways away.
ETA: There has been a solo raft expedition, using a redwood log raft, from California to Guam across the North Pacific.
http://www.sfgate.com/news/article/Guinness-world-record-holder-prepares-to-sail-2778570.php
The Kon Tiki 2 sailed from South America to Easter Island and partway back before deciding to terminate the expedition and be rescued (two rafts, balsa, half women crew, woman skipper, truly world class scientists on board).
http://www.kontiki2.com/
ETA: Book number 8