“So
much paper and ink have been expended on Ruess, especially on speculations
regarding his mysterious disappearance from an Escalante side canyon in 1934,
that it almost seems an environmental crime to add to the expenditure, but a
summary account of his life, at least is necessary.” (Topping, 1997, p. 317)
Philip Fradkin also wrote the biography of Wallace Stegner. |
In the final paragraphs
to “Everett Ruess: His Short Life, Mysterious Death, and Astonishing Afterlife”
– and its devotion to understanding and telling the truths associated with
Everett’s “short life” – Philip Fradkin suggests that literary and
investigative favors are “not about to be extended to everyone.”
So why then does
Everertt’s story about his mysterious disappearance in the Utah desert in 1934
deserve to have even more paper, ink, and energy expended on his life?
In my opinion, this particular
expenditure by Fradkin is needed because the telling of Everett’s story always
lacks context. It needed to have written what Paul Harvey coined “the rest of
the story.”
Fradkin’s book brings an expanded and insightful context to
the Everett saga. And this is Fradkin’s biggest gift to Everett’s mysterious
death because it keeps the “short life” from becoming long in fiction.
However, Fradkin’s research does leave out the fact that “Finding
Everett Ruess” was written and researched during the same time period he
alliterates about Everett’s “Astonishing Afterlife.” Despite that fact, Fradkin’s
book doesn’t need to review David Robert’s book “Finding Everett Ruess” because
Roberts offers very little new information about Everett’s story and basically
repeats what most Ruess fans already know – if they read “Everett Ruess:Vagabond for Beauty” and
kept up with the steady flow of news about Roberts’ misadventures to solve the
Ruess mystery.
I first learned about Fradkin’s book about Everett a couple
of years ago when he contacted me to get a copy of my thesis about Everett
Ruess’s connection to the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance. (SUWA still uses a block print, inspired by Everett's artwork during his trips to the Utah desert).
Fradkin was pushy and impatient in his requests and as a
result I didn’t feel like helping him out with his research.
Besides, I thought, a copy of my thesis is at the University
of Utah, where he is doing much of his original
research, so it shouldn’t be that hard to find it there or at Brigham Young University. My stubbornness with Fradkin’s request may have led to my thesis
research not even getting mentioned or referenced by Fradkin. Roberts read my
thesis after learning about it the night I gave a copy of it to him and Bud Rusho.
Fradkin may have read my thesis but it isn’t evident in
book’s footnotes or index. However, he did report one of the most interesting
things I first reported about Everett regarding claim’s about his mysterious
love letters to Frances. Robert’s picked up on this “tidbit” from my thesis,
but should be noted, that Roberts’ struggled to solve this mystery. Fradkin, on
the other hand, shows the panache of a seasoned investigative reporter and
provides some very interesting insights that will end this part of the mystery
for many Ruess aficionados.
However, both Roberts and Fradkin missed out on some of the
important insights my research highlights. (More on that later.)
Fradkin’s thoughtfully researched book is full of context
and insights that do not use Everett as a platform to talk about his own
opinions or experience in the wilderness (sorry David Roberts … that
description very much describes the narrative and style of your writings about
Everett, despite the fact you were very gracious in your recognition of my
thesis). Fradkins does this to a certain extent but it is tastefully done and,
in most cases, provides more context about how he did his research.
Fradkin’s devotion to reporting the context of Everett’s “Astonishing
Afterlife” includes great insights about Everett’s relatives, associates, and
goings-on in American history. That context is beautiful and complimentary to
the topic. It also helps demythologize the Ruess story, by reminding the reader
that yes, Everett Ruess is unique, but no, he is not alone in his sentiments
about nature, art, and literature for this time period.
This is something Gibbs Smith, the Everett Ruess
publisher-in-chief, will tell you over and over: that Everett was the first real
appreciator of wilderness, for sentimental reasons. Fradkin proves otherwise.
But be warned: Fradkin stops short of providing some of the political context
of the wilderness movement that reinvigorated the telling of the Everett Ruess
story in the 1980s and what I think are some of the real reasons for Everett’s
“astonishing afterlife.”
Fradkins book is a page turner because, like the good
journalist he is, Fradkin writes for the audience that knows Everett’s story – while
still giving the Ruess novice the ability to enjoy an extended prologue to the
original Everett Ruess books: “Vagabond for Beauty” and “The Wilderness
Journals.”
Fradkin further dampens the Everett Ruess myth by setting the
record straight, by grounding Everett in reality – which does, in my mind diminish Everett’s mythos and storied connection to the Utah wilderness movement and
self-styled, ersatz desert rats (line taken from a letter to the editor of a
Tucson newspaper, criticizing how Everett’s story is used for political
purposes).
Letter criticizing the use of Everett Rues for political purposes. Source: http://www.tucsonweekly.com/tw/05-29-97/mailbag.htm |
The irony here is that Everett, in many ways, never seemed
to be grounded in reality and now the definitive story about him is fertilized
with facts. I also like the fact Fradkin also looked at this story from the
lens of a parent who has to deal with children who are depressed or go their
own way.
And since I can’t resist being a hypocrite, I want to tell
my own story about my connection with Everett -- as taken from the introduction
to my master’s thesis, "Everett Ruess and the Southern Utah Wilderness
Alliance: A Triangulated Study Employing the Elaboration Likelihood Model of
Persuasion (ELM).”
My thesis is currently published online as “Selling Everett
Ruess: Protecting Utah’s Redrock Wilderness Created an Environmental Saint.”
Here’s a blurb from the introduction:
“I first learned about
Ruess when my father spent two bits at a yard sale and bought me a copy of Everett Ruess: Vagabond
for Beauty (Rusho,
1983). That summer I shared a mutual love with Ruess of the Escalante Canyons
in southern Utah. Since that time it’s been an interesting journey, but my
parasocial relationship with Ruess has stirred within me an everlasting lust
for the desert. And like Ruess, I too crave intellectual companionship, boring
easily with people who revel in “the discontent bred by cities.”
Ironically, my zeal for
Ruess waned when my passion for protecting the environment peaked. It was one
thing to revel in beauty, but quite another to preserve it. Activism resulted
in abandoning much of the art and literature that was a catalyst for my raging
environmentalism. SUWA became a part of my paradigm and I participated as a
“wilderness warrior” in Washington D.C. About that time, Big Suckin’ Moose – a
band I used to play drums and percussion for – recorded a song about wilderness
titled, “Washington D.C.” The song is now on a compact disc sold through SUWA.
Nevertheless, my interest in SUWA, like my love for Ruess, went into remission.
Interest in the Ruess
myth resumed when I researched a communication theory about parasocial relationships.
While rummaging through scholarly journals, I remembered an experience I had
when I was working in the backcountry of Alaska’s Resurrection Bay. I was in
the midst of building a bridge made of raw spruce trees when a tousled man in
his mid twenties walked up to me from almost out of nowhere and started
talking. We exchanged a few sentiments about the Bay and then the young man
excused himself and mumbled as he walked away, “I think I’ll be going now...
I’m gonna build a fire and commune with the spirit of Everett Ruess.” That
memory hurled me back into the lure of the Ruess myth and for the past year I
have been researching how Ruess has evolved from myth to wilderness icon. How
could an obscure young adventurer from California, lost in Utah in 1934, be
known over sixty years later, by a stranger passing by in the wilds of Alaska?
That question, asked by
me in 1999 – about how Everett could be known, at all – begins to be answered by
Fradkin. His book also signifies what I think could be the peak of the Golden Age
of Ruess.
I predicted this golden
age in the conclusion to my thesis in 2003. Fradkin misses this
point in his book.
That is, at least,
one part of the context readers need to know when they digest Fradkin's
book: that Everett’s short life, with its enduring afterlife, depends on
storytellers with an agenda. And where that agenda takes the Everett Ruess story from here is something I will continue to follow -- as one
of Everett’s enduring disciples.
References
Topping, G. (1997). Glen Canyon and the San
Juan Country. Moscow:
University of Idaho
Press.
No comments:
Post a Comment