Getting Lost

One of the books I'm reading is "A Field Guide to Getting Lost" by Rebecca Solnit. Mostly I've been reading it on my way to and from work on the days I take the bus (and when a particularly chatty man from our neighborhood doesn't sit down next to me).

As the title discloses, the theme of the book is the many ways in which people go about getting lost. They get geographically lost, but they also get emotionally lost. People get socially lost, psychologically lost, and so on.

A curmudgeonly critic from the Boston Globe (who apparently rather enjoys reading textbooks more than personal reflections) wrote, "What's ultimately so frustrating about this "Field Guide" is the sense of what it could have been. Solnit is clearly an authority on more subjects than you can shake a stick at. But being knowledgeable is one thing; having something to say is quite another."

To this natty nitpicking I would add that knowing how to say something, and say it well, makes a tremendous difference. Here's a sample of Ms. Solnit's talent with words, reflecting on what it means for people to be in relationship with each other.

A happy love is a single story, a disintegrating one is two or more competing, conflicting versions, and a disintegrated one lies at your feet like a shattered mirror, each shard reflecting a different story, that it was wonderful, that it was terrible, if only this had, if only that hadn't. The stories don't fit back together, and it's the end of stories, those devices we carry like shells and shields and blinkers and occasionally maps and compasses. The people close to you become mirrors and journals in which you record your history, the instruments that help you know yourself and remember yourself, and you do the same for them. When they vanish, so does the use, the appreciation, the understanding of those small anecdotes, catchphrases, jokes: they become a book slammed shut or burnt...

The stories shatter. Or you wear them out or leave them behind. Over time the story or the memory loses its power. Over time you become someone else.

I've always liked the power of prose writers who can capture reality in unique ways that help us see the world with fresh eyes. As those writers provide insights that help us understand the fullness of terra firma, Ms. Solnit exposes the geography between people and helps us understand that stories and memories are the road maps that keep us connected to each other.

In the Field Guide, she shares her experiences with getting lost, sometimes intentionally and sometimes by accident, sometimes with frustrating results, and other times ending up in places of wonder.