Reading

The Lost City of Z follows the enigmatic story of British explorer Percy Harrison Fawcett’s exploration of the Amazon. Enthralled by various Spanish conquistadors’ stories of a lost civilization, magnificent and with bountiful gold, Fawcett dedicates his life to finding this city, which he coins in his journal simply: “Z”. After a series of failed expeditions, he makes a final attempt in 1925 to find this treasure by traveling up the remote Xingu River. Fawcett and his party were never heard from again.

With such a popular explorer as Fawcett and the allure of the exotic Amazon, people across Europe, the United States, and South America were mesmerized by Fawcett’s disappearance. Search parties and swaths of conspiracy theories were made, yet there was no definitive answer to the big question: What happened to Colonel Fawcett?

David Grann expertly quiets the sensationalism surrounding this question. In this exceptional work of investigative journalism, Grann consults archaeologists, historians, explorers, and the Fawcett family to get closest to the facts as he possibly can. He even ventures from his comfortable home in New York to explore the wild Amazon himself, where he makes contact with indigenous tribes who had encountered Fawcett’s party years back. Beyond delineating the facts from the noise, Grann attempts to tap into Fawcett’s psyche and thus learn his motives. He explores Fawcett’s relationships, ambitions, and spirituality to paint a better picture of who this explorer really was.

While the story of this exploration was interesting on its own, Grann also explored broader social and historical ideas. He contends that European exploration into the Amazon, through the spread of disease, incited a holocaust of indigenous Amazonians. This, paired with ample archaeological evidence, suggests that the fabled Lost City of Z may not be a fantasy after all.

Overall, I am extremely impressed by Grann’s journalistic resourcefulness, intellectual honesty, and ability to paint the most comprehensive story possible. As he did in The Wager, Grann covers two bases: (1) telling the fullest truth of a very exciting story and (2) demonstrating its broader social and historical significance.

In Go for More, Luke Melms guides current and former high-level athletes through their transition out of playing their sports. Coming from an athletic background himself, Luke empathizes with the internal struggles that an athlete might face in this period. Luke gives holistic advice to the athlete, covering anything from mental and spiritual health to networking and personal finance.

As athletes, losing our sport means more than simply changing a daily routine or finding another hobby. Rather, we lose a part of our identity and way of life. Currently transitioning from professional baseball to the traditional working world myself, I couldn’t have picked a better time in my life to read this book. I’ve played baseball in 17 of the 22 years in my life—I’ve been playing since I was five. Consequently, this transition has created somewhat of a void for me, and filling it has been an interesting (and exciting) process. Reading Go for More gave me a fresh perspective on this transition; it instilled in me hope, excitement, and confidence in my future.

Luke very clearly knows his audience and how to connect with them. He takes on a conversational, approachable style in this book. Using frequent anecdotes, Luke’s advice sticks very easily. This is the perfect approach for a book of this style. It’s a quick read, easily readable in a day, and is completely worth checking out.

I also listened to this book on audio in the car during my camping road trip. The story of the shipwreck, the struggle for survival, and the mutiny of the men of the Wager was gripping all the way through. Despite having conflicting primary sources, Grann depicted this story in an accurate, candid, and entertaining manner.

Earlier this year, I read Endurance, by Alfred Lansing, which tells the story of Ernest Shackleton and his men stranded in the Antarctic for 16 months. Endurance is a story of leadership, endurance, and the indomitable human spirit. The Wager, however, told a darker story—one of betrayal and deceit, raising questions about law, justice, patriotism, and imperialism. The men of the Wager, arguably more desperate than those of the Endurance, resorted to much more grim means of survival.

The story didn’t simply end with the death or survival of these men. Instead, it follows the men home (those who survived), and we get to see them defend their own actions to the public and in a court-martial. The court-martial unfolded completely differently from what I had thought it would. These legal proceedings helped me contextualize this story within its historical context, revealing the more nuanced character of the British Empire.

I listened to this book on audio in the car during my camping road trip. Driving through Colorado’s mountains and forests greatly added to the sense of adventure in this book.

I am a huge fan of Tolkien’s fantasy universe. The Lord of the Rings books and movies stand as some of my all-time favorites. The Hobbit is no exception to this. Tolkien’s storytelling and worldbuilding abilities are unsurpassed.

Before starting this book, I had heard that it was extremely sad. When I heard this, I thought it would be a melodrama, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. This is not your typical grand, romantic tearjerker that pulls so boldly at your heartstrings. Instead, Stoner is a story of quiet, stoic endurance. It’s about man’s search for dignity in the mundane and resilience in the face of bad luck.

Stoner's plot is a slow, gradual trudge. As I read along, I was waiting for some dramatic event or plot twist, but it never came. Because of this, I got a little bored with the book halfway through, which was a great mistake. I was searching for adventure, triumph, and drama instead of the deeper meaning within this slow plot. I think that subliminally, I had begun to discount the novel’s profundity because of my misconception. I failed to realize that how I experienced the book was completely intentional. I didn’t realize my mistake until I was near the end of the book. Only after I finished reading and spent some time reflecting did I truly realize the depth of this book.

The narrator in this book was extremely active, and much of the story took place through this narration. John Williams’s prose was beautiful, conveying the condition of Stoner’s soul without being heavy-handed or overly ornate. Williams poured some incredible wisdom into his prose, too.

William Stoner’s stoicism is both heroic and tragic. With a failed marriage, a crumbling relationship with his daughter, a lost lover, oppressive university politics, and a life lacking any great memories, Stoner lived a brutally disappointing life. Yet, he endured these struggles with impressive poise, and he was even able to find glimpses of joy and value in them. For that, Stoner is heroic. However, I cannot help but question Stoner’s decisions throughout this story. In his relationships with his wife, daughter, and coworkers, he seemed to accept bad fortune without a fight. Instead of working to save his marriage, he goes off and, without remorse, pursues a love affair with Katherine. Stoner hardly takes any personal agency in these matters. To me, he is more idle and unambitious than he is fortitudinous. Tragic.

So what does this book mean in my life? Two things, and they hinge on the heroism and tragedy of William Stoner. First, life will not go my way, and that is okay. Things will go wrong, I will make mistakes, and things will feel mundane, monotonous, and disappointing. I must accept this as fact. Why fight a truth that cannot be changed? So, like Stoner, I must do my best to endure life’s struggles with poise and even gratitude. Even in the darkest times, light and passion can be found. Second, although I may accept that life will let me down at times, I cannot let this take away my hope, ambition, and vigor. This is where Stoner was wrong. Instead of being idle, I must take life by its reins and seize the day. Go and pursue that dream, fight for that relationship, and work for that goal. Stoner did these things, but he didn’t do them enough.

Fooled by Randomness taught me some very important things about risk and randomness, primarily in the market. We humans seem to have a very poor ability to intuit probability in everyday life. Often, we attribute skill to simple luck, and we hyperanalyze small events that are truly just noise. Nassim Nicholas Taleb criticizes the naivete of those who think this way, those who don’t appreciate randomness.

Taleb uses a very conversational, anecdotal style to get his point across. His anecdotes are clear and memorable, helping me grasp his ideas. However, I think his style is too conversational. Often, he forgets to spell out his ideas concretely, leaving me with only a half-understanding. Many of his arguments seemed to be self-serving and were left unjustified. I will concede, however, that in his preface, Taleb warns readers that this work is not to be read as science. It should rather be read as entertainment, food for thought.

Given that outlook, this book did its job. It got me thinking about hidden biases and misconceptions I carry with me in my judgments of everyday events, reassessing the role that randomness has in all of it. I was entertained by his stories of his hotshot neighbor, references to philosophy and ancient mythology, and high praise of dentists.

This was just the first part of my five-volume set of Taleb’s works, called Incerto. I’m excited to tackle the rest down the road. Next up, more fiction.