A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson

Each month, someone from the Bristol Public Library participates in the Radio Bristol Book Club and in October the book was A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson.  For the uninitiated, Bill Bryson is a humorous writer of non-fiction, possibly best known for his travel writing though in recent years he has branched out into other areas.  His latest book is The Body:  An Occupant’s Guide. A Walk in the Woods is an account of Bryson’s attempt to walk the Appalachian Trail.  It includes a great deal of information about the history of the AT, including possible hazards (Bryson is always interested in things that can kill him on his travels) and how to equip oneself for the trail.

I had actually read the book before, but it had been a year or seventeen ago so I felt I definitely needed to read it before the book club meeting.  I remembered how very informative it was—I had known little about the history of how the AT came to be or really how treacherous parts of it can be—and that the information had been entertainingly imparted.

What I didn’t remember is how side-splittingly funny it was.  Bryson knows he needs to have someone to hike with and after an increasingly desperate search, he finds Stephen Katz.  Katz is an old school friend of Bryson’s, albeit one he hasn’t seen in decades.  Katz assures Bryson he is good shape: “Real good.  I walk everywhere these days.” (Bryson finds out that Katz’s car has been repossessed.) He also brings along provisions for the trail—a duffle bag full of Snickers bars.

After this inauspicious beginning, the two go to Georgia to start the Trail at its southern end—the most common route—and it doesn’t take long for them to realize they may be in over their heads.

I thoroughly enjoyed my re-read of this book.  Bryson has a sharp, cynical sense of humor that some people do not like, but because he can be just as cutting about himself as others, it doesn’t bother me.  He can be very critical about people and places.

What I love most, though, is all the information that’s packed into his books.  One of my most enduring impressions from my first reading of the book was Centralia, Pennsylvania.  I had heard the name of the place, but knew nothing else: I certainly didn’t know that a coal seam that ignited in 1962 is still burning today, destroying the town. Not far away, there is a mountain so polluted by a zinc mill that all the vegetation has died, leaving a bare hill.  The contrast is particular strong after the sections in which Bryson marvels at the beauty of the AT, with its dense forests and spectacular views.

The other wonderful part of the book is more difficult to describe.  It has to do with the way Bryson describes not just the forest but the effect that being in the deep woods has on him.  It’s a transformative experience.  The grandeur of the natural world is often contrasted with the man-made world which, although filled with delights like fast-food, hot baths, and vermin free sleeping, is transitory and tawdry.  Nowhere is this more evident than Gatlinburg, Tennessee where stores Bryson saw just a few years earlier are already distant memories, replaced by newer, shinier offerings.

I loved the book just as much, if not more, than I did the first time around.

In between readings, a movie was made of the book with Robert Redford as Bryson and Nick Nolte as Katz.  I saw it in the theatre when it came out in 2015 and liked it well enough, though I didn’t remember a lot of the incidents depicted.  Re-watching it after reading the book again revealed that it did follow the events in the book but it lacked the heart, the emotional resonance that I found in the book.  There were some nice scenic views, but they seemed just that:  nice scenic views.  The frame story was altered because of the casting.  In reality, Bryson and Katz were in their 40s; Bryson was interested in the Trail and its history in part because he wanted to write a book.  Katz was at loose ends and wanted to connect with a friend.  In the movie, a much older Redford is facing mortality and decides to tackle the AT as a way of showing himself that he still has it, that he will not go gently into that good night.

I have to acknowledge that part of my disappointment with that first viewing of the movie was “what might have been.”  Redford had optioned the book for a film in 2005 with the intention of having Paul Newman play Katz.  That could have been a film for the ages! But of course Newman passed away in 2008, so it was not to be.  My second viewing left me more charitable toward the film. It is very funny, even if it is formulaic, and Nolte is wonderful as Katz.  I also applaud the expanded role Emma Thompson has as Bryson’s wife, who doesn’t get quite as much attention in the book as in the film. 

I recommend both book and movie, but if you can only choose one, by all means take the book.  Your experience will be much richer.

(We have previously reviewed other books by Bryson:  Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid and A Short History of Nearly Everything.

The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson

Reviewed by Jeanne

Most people know Bill Bryson as a travel writer of sorts, one who gives an extensive history of a place along with his experiences and does so with a good deal of humor.  His best known book may be A Walk in the Woods, which details his experiences walking the Appalachian Trail, but he’s also done books on England, the United States, and Australia as well as several other non-fiction books.

The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid is Bryson’s account of growing up in Iowa in the 1950s.  Since that was my brother’s era, I gave him an audio version to listen to while he and his wife undertook a long drive, hoping it would keep them entertained.  My sister-in-law called to tell me that my brother laughed so hard she feared they might be stopped for distracted driving.

So when the BPL Winter Bingo started up and my sheet said “Read an Autobiography,” I knew just the book I wanted to read.

First off, true to form, Bryson isn’t just telling about his life; he’s explaining an era.  America’s obsession with the automobile was in full swing, and drive-in restaurants, movie theatres, and the like were popping up everywhere.  Atomic testing was going on in Nevada and was still something of a spectator sport; if you weren’t fortunate enough to live near a testing site, you could still get a bit of the thrill from reading comic books with titles like Atomic War! and Atomic-Age Combat. In schools, children were learning to shelter under a desk in case of a nuclear attack.   To size a shoe properly, the finer department stores had X-ray machines available.  According to tobacco company L&M, their cigarettes were “Just what the doctor ordered!” to soothe the nerves and sharpen the mind; Camel proudly ran ads proclaiming that more doctors smoked their brand than any other, perhaps as a way of implying that if cigarettes were healthy, then theirs were the healthiest.

Bryson discusses food, toys (some of the worst ever invented, but the section on Lincoln Logs was comedy gold), work (Bryson was a paperboy), and the mysteries of the opposite sex.  I found I remembered many of the things he described, although I had better memories of Silly Putty.  As I recall, we used it to make impressions of comic strips which one could then stretch and distort.  Why we considered this fun, I’m not sure; but I do remember buying lots of Silly Putty.  Slinkys, the coming of color TV, Hula-Hoops, TV dinners in aluminum pans, and reading about Dick and Jane are amusingly recalled. 

Bryson’s recollections make this trip down memory lane a particularly hilarious journey.  His loving view of his Des Moines hometown and his family are peppered with sardonic humor.  His mother was a dreadful cook who always managed to burn anything and everything.  Fortunately, his father’s palate was attuned only to two tastes, burned foods and ice cream. “Theirs truly was a marriage made in heaven,” Bryson writes, “for no one could burn food like my mother or eat it like my dad.”

While those who grew up in 1950s and 1960s will take especial delight in this trip down Memory Lane, non-Baby Boomers should get a lot of laughs out of it as well and conclude that Bill Bryson is one funny guy.

A Short History of Nearly Everything and A Really Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson

Reviewed by Kristin

Bill Bryson is quite an amusing author.  Ever since I read A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering American on the Appalachian Trail back in 1998, I’ve been hooked.  However, since I started the audiobook version of A Short History of Nearly Everything (the original, adult version) I have been learning and laughing my way through my short daily commute to work.  In fact, my fifteen-year-old has even been laughing when she listens along with me, as Bryson spouts out ridiculous bits of biographical material about the scientists who have made significant discoveries about how the world works.

For the first time, I actually understand scientific things that were previously beyond my grasp.  Bryson makes Einstein’s theory of relativity pretty easy to comprehend and explains scientific notation in a way that makes me see just how large (or small) things are, when they have to be measured as 10 to the 26^th power.  Bryson describes the immenseness of space and the proportions of what takes up space in your average atom.  He explains the composition of our earth, our atmosphere, and our universe, so far as we can deduce from the scientific evidence gathered over the recent centuries.

Of course many more things are included, as this IS a short history of nearly everything.

With the grown-up version being a hefty 544 pages, (almost 18 hours as an audiobook) the kids’ version is called A Really Short History of Nearly Everything.  With bountiful illustrations and blocks of large print text, interesting facts are packed into the 169 pages in a kid friendly way.

Bryson states that his fascination with science began with a 1950’s era science textbook with a cutaway diagram showing a cross section of the earth.  Unfortunately, the book wasn’t nearly as interesting as the diagram led him to believe, and Bryson lost his scientific curiosity for a time.  Fortunately for us, he found it again and was willing to expound upon his knowledge in an attempt to explain the history of nearly everything.

Obviously, no one can write a single volume or even a set of volumes that explains everything in this great world around us.  (That’s why we have internet-empowered librarians and information specialists, right?  We definitely do not know everything, but we have a good idea of where to look to find the answers.)  But Bryson certainly does try, and makes much of it extremely accessible to the average reader.

A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson

Reviewed by Nancy

After living in England for twenty years, author Bill Bryson moved with his family to a small town in New Hampshire. There he noticed a path that disappeared into the woods at the edge of town, and upon learning from signage that this was the famed Appalachian Trail, Mr. Bryson became enamored with the idea of hiking said famed trail. He could not shake the idea, so he gave into it.

Oh, he was excited. He told his wife, his publisher, his friends and acquaintances. It was only after this initial flurry of expectation that he began to do research and found out what he might really be in for.

Let me tell you something about Bill Bryson. He is funny. I don't mean just run of the mill funny like the preacher in your church or your Uncle Harry who could tell a good story. Or funny like your cousin Edward who's quick with puns and gags. I mean FUNNY. I mean this guy could write an essay about litter control or insurance regulations and have you laughing your head off. He could write about anything and render it entertainingly.

Therefore, the story of this soft in the flesh, city-boy writer hiking the Appalachian Trail proves to be rich fodder. Before hiking the trail Mr. Bryson consulted and interviewed others who had done so. Hearing their tales of terror and deprivation he imagined all the things that might go wrong, including the wild animals one might encounter, ranging from deadly snakes to scalp snatching hoot owls to sofa-sized boars.

His musings cover a litany of diseases one might contract in that wilderness. I am familiar with some of the possibilities Mr. Bryson lists, and, being prone to hypochondria, have even feared at times that I might have one or another of them. Lyme disease, West Nile Virus, Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever...  I have fixated on and manifested false symptoms of these diseases, buy what in the blue eyed world is giardiasis? Or shigellosis? I don't dare look them up, or I might begin to display the symptoms. I don't know what schistosomiasis is, and I hope I never find out. I sincerely pray I am never required to have a conversation with a medical professional regarding this disease, ailment, parasite, chronic condition, or whatever it is.

Mr. Bryson also touches on the possibility of being incinerated by lightning strikes or done in by foul play administered by other humans, but after bumping through his listing of diseases these eventualities did not much impact my psyche.

I believe it was when he began his study of equipment that Mr. Bryson was struck by  the true enormity of his undertaking. As he put it, he "ended up with enough equipment to bring full employment to a vale of sherpas."  The problem with this was that he was going to need to carry all this stuff by himself. The purchase of the equipment did not include sherpas.

There were many shocks during the equipment purchase foray. Some of the shocks had to do with the fact that at various moments the author had no idea what the salesman was talking about. Others had to do with the price of the items. Perhaps the ultimate shock hit when he discovered that the darn expensive backpack he had chosen did not come with straps. The straps had to be purchased separately.

When he saw the pile of equipment he would be required to carry on his back, Mr. Bryson understood why the salesman had dwelled so much on the weight of the individual items. The author had maintained a somewhat cavalier attitude towards weight during the selection process, but understood the importance of an extra ounce or two per item once he saw all the equipment gathered into one place.

After this preparation, Mr. Bryson settled down to wait out the long winter months, planning to begin his journey in the spring. During many sleepless nights he pondered the possibilities of breaking an ankle, falling off a rock ledge, having a heart attack, or encountering an ax-wielding madman in the wilderness, and realized that he really, really, really didn't want to make this trip alone. What if he was OUT THERE ALL BY HIMSELF and he had a stroke? or a heart attack? or a bear attack?

The problem then became, who would go with him? Whom did he know who could drop whatever it was they were doing and go along with him? After months of casual invitations Mr. Bryson began to despair. Everyone he knew seemed to be busy. Everyone, that is, except his college friend Stephen Katz who gave the author a call in late February to ask if he might be the one to come along.

So, let us ponder this for a moment. If Mr. Stephen Katz is available, at the ripe age of forty, to drop everything and go for an extended jaunt through the wilderness, is he available because he is fabulously successful, independently wealthy, and eager for new challenge and adventure? Or is he available because he is a low achiever with no direction, no ambition, and absolutely nothing else to do?

I will not spoil this surprise for you. You must read the book to find out. Get the tissues ready, for you will weep with laughter.