Pretty much. It would have been SO easy to become stuck in my small Texas city. Lots of my friends decried that hick place and dreamed up all sorts of plans to leave, but you fall into a comfortable routine and end up never leaving. That’s what happened to a lot of them, they’re still there. You know, it’s a self-contained world, nothing nearby for miles and miles, 6 hours’ drive minimum to the closest decent place of any size, maybe you don’t have friends or family anywhere else. You say how much you hate the place, but then you find a job, and you get married, and the next thing you know, you have 5 kids and a second mortgage on the house. I’ve seen it happen so many times. This may be difficult for Europeans to understand; no offense meant by that, but I don’t think you get as isolated in Europe as you can get in certain parts of the US. I think it’s easier for Europeans to pick up and at least travel to someplace different if not move there, because it’s not that far to someplace different. But it can be scary for some Americans to break out of their safe, secure community, even if they hate it.
True story, I swear to Buddha: I returned from Mexico one time. I’m in Texas, mind you, which borders Mexico. I was in my usual bar. This lady of my acquaintance asked me where I’d been, because she hadn’t seen me around for a while. I said I’d just come back from Mexico. She asked me in all seriousness, “Where’s that?” But I thought she was joking, I thought she HAD to be joking, so I laughed. She was truly offended! Told me, “Well, I’m not smart like you are.” Mind you, she was a very nice girl, and she had certain, um, talents that made up for her lack of geographic knowledge, and this was an extreme case even for Texas, but Oh Man! People where I grew up generally just could not imagine picking up and going someplace new. And the few who could imagine it, generally got over it around about the third child. That’s the environment I was raised in.
But THAT book was THE book that finally kicked MY butt into gear. After reaing “The Razor’s Edge,” I vowed that no matter what it took short of murder, I was getting out of that place. And I’ve never looked back.
Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove was a big part of the reason we moved from Seattle back to Iowa 17 years ago. The book renewed the sense of adventure that got us to Seattle in the first place. Plus, I didn’t realize until I went on that cattle drive how much I missed seeing some sky.
I’m sure none of you remember her, but Cherry Ames was my heroine from when I was a little girl. Her, Nancy Drew, and Deanna Durbin. You just didn’t GET any cooler than Cherry, Nancy, or Deanna. They were beautiful, independent, always on a cool adventure…
Two books convinced me to join the army after college.
The Trial by Franz Kafka, about an anonymous petty clerk accused of a crime which is never even specified. One of the sections in particular, Before the Law, alluded to the consequences of letting yourself be browbeaten by the potential consequences of life-changing decisions. After reading the book twice and Before the Law approximately 527,000 times, I decided to sign up.
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Hemingway was the second book. Robert Jordan’s life with the guerillas and the gypsies fighting against the fascists was light years away from the crushingly dull routine and suffocating safety of college life. I was young when I read this book, and I still believed that people could be whoever or whatever they wanted to be as long as they worked hard enough at it. By the time I realized that Robert Jordan and I were fundamentally different people without a single point in common, I was already through AIT and in Korea with a girlfriend who would later become my wife.
Those two would definitely count as launching me into the world, because until the army, all I knew were cruddy farmtowns and dirty coal towns. I had never been to places like Korea or Hawaii, but I suppose I assumed they would be more or less similar to where I grew up, just with different accents. Once I saw how wrong I was, I left the old towns behind for good, and I haven’t missed them one bit. I haven’t missed the army either, come to think of it!
The 1948 edition of The Book of Knowledge and several of The Big Book of… (astronomy, animals, etc.), all of which I had read many times by the time I was seven. From my earliest memory I wanted to be either an astronomer or an archaeologist. Which is why I spent a career in construction. crap
For me, it was probably Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
But I think The Razor’s Edge would have done the job nicely had I come across it sooner. I re-read it at least once a year and still consider it a marvel.
I remember Cherry Ames. When I was 8, I found an entire set of those books in the basement of the house where we were staying. She was responsible for my very brief (1 day) stint as a candy striper. Recently I went looking online for the books, and found that they are being re-released.
As far as wanting to see the world, I’m surprised no one else has mentioned Richard Halliburton’s Complete Book of Marvels. It’s impossible to read this book without feeling the urge to travel. It was one of my father’s favorites when he was a child, and he passed it on to his children. I think it shaped my view of the world, and certainly inspired a sense of wonder in me.
But no book ever influenced me more than the autobiography of Helen Keller. So many of the choices I’ve made in my life have been based on her spirit and example, and it all started with that book.
While the Dr. Seuss Dictionary started my love affair with books, when I read Vonnegut for the first time I really, truly felt like I could love another human being.
Hmm. I don’t think I’ve been launched! The books I loved including journeys of imagination (particularly The Phantom Toolbooth) but I’ve never been ambitious to get out there. I am not a risk-taker and even though I’ve lived various places I never really thrived or grew.
I’ve been such a voracious reader from such a young age that I don’t remember there being any one single tome that convinced me to head out see the world at large. I’ve always wanted to get away and do things, even if it’s just the weird things that pop up in my own head.
I can tell you that I’ve been angry and frustrated with government ever since the Katimavik* program was cancelled in 1986, because I’d been looking to getting away from everyone I knew and hated and seeing the rest of the country for a long, long time, even though I was only starting high school.
The good news is that I did grow up and become a bona fide world traveler and international citizen. Yeehaw!
[sub]* The Canadian federal government program for youth to see the rest of the country and do community work. Damn, damn that Brian Mulrooney man.[/sub]
If you haven’t already read it, you might also enjoy Vladimir Nabokov’s Invitation to a Beheading. One of those cases of 2 nearly simultaneous works being eerily similar.
Props to jackelope on the Tristam Shandy–what did it launch you upon? Boring self-absorption or satirical wit?
I grew up reading the books of adventurer Richard Halliburton. My first was my grandfather’s copy of Seven League Boots. My school library had The Book of Marvels and The Royal Road to Romance. Eventually I collected signed copies of all of his books and developed a terrible wanderlust. For a while I corresponded with one of Halliburton’s Princeton roommates who was kind enough to send me private memoirs.
Halliburton was lost at sea on a Chinese junk in the late 1930s.
If I must pick just one: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I discovered Douglas Adams at the same time as I discovered teenage angst. “Space is really big”, quoth Mr. Adams. My teenage mind read that, and said, “Well, hey, it is. Therefore, there must be something else, something better out there. Someday I’ll be able to find it, maybe.” And, seriously, I’ve adopted “don’t panic” as a personal mantra. It’s not going to do any good, is it? So, just stay calm. Space is really big - if you’re in a bad spot, go find a better place.
Very close seconds: Shakespeare’s collected works (his sonnets were what I first read) made me want to go to England. Oh, the Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss, which is obvious. Have Spacesuit, Will Travel by Heinlein (my father is a geek and got me started on the science fiction really young; I grew up wanting to go to the moon). Most recently, reading My Name is Asher Lev was a pretty profound experience for me that made me slightly more confident about setting out into the Great Unknown of the Real World.
J.D. Salinger’s novels, especially Franny and Zooey, validated my experiences and helped me step out of the world that my parents believed in, and into ownership of mine.
I’d answer, but making any clear distinction would take hours; I’d have to explain all the reference points in my personal universe. (I call it “The Jackeloverse”; its inhabitants practice “Jackelism.”)
Yeah, I know it seems trite, but this book was really influential for me also. It showed me that there were other completely different perspectives on how to live one’s life than the safe and predictable existence that my parents had hoped for me. Obviously, I don’t feel like I should model my lifestyle after HST, but living life for the adventure really has a lot going for it.
