RIDING TOWARD EVERYWHERE

"And if not, could it be that my various books, written in the belief that we are all members of the same human family, are either hypocritical or else as ghostly as boxcars slowly trundling through the northern darkness?"
—pages 47–48, Riding Toward Everywhere by William T. Vollmann

I have read various reviews that have accused Vollmann's latest book of being one of his minor works. I disagree.

First, Vollmann himself states that the book has few points to make:

And I cannot say for sure that the unknown place where Steve and I were headed was not the same sort of mirage. (If I make this point too often for your taste, I apologize; this book has few points to make.) [page 44]

Although that is somewhat of a fallacy, because I think he makes plenty of points. He challenges our assumptions about the hobos, tramps, and trainhoppers in his portrayals of his own journeys, as well as the glimpses into the lives of these "others." He questions his need for danger, his need to wander, his fears and anxieties. He tries to describe, and perhaps save, a piece of "freedom" in the midst of an increasingly Plastic America, with its ever present cameras and security personnel.

Second, this book is a work of prose that functions like the best poetry. It evokes images. It thrives in ambiguity. It challenges us to see things differently. He tries to take us to a place (Cold Mountain) and an era (back then) that are not easily located in either space or time.

Third, he is in conversation with other (mostly) American writers who are on their own journeys through the heartland of our country. He quotes and reflects upon the works of Ernest Hemingway, Jack Kerouac, Jack London, Henry Thoreau, Mark Twain, Thomas Wolfe, and Chinese poet Cold Mountain. He wrestles with their works. A couple of times he argues with their conclusions.

He even quotes from the memoirs of a few trainhoppers. Not only does he give time and space on the page to some of the masters of American literature, but he does the same for some of the nameless and anonymous.

Fourth, he is in conversation with his own work. The tone of examination and exploration is similar to his recent nonfiction, especially Rising Up, Rising Down and Poor People. I also hear echoes of The Atlas, as well as the four completed novels of his Seven Dreams: A Book of North American Landscapes—The Ice-Shirt, Fathers and Crows, The Rifles, and Argall. And, he paints the people of the hobo jungles with the same compassionate brush that he used on the prostitutes in Butterfly Stories, Whores for Gloria, and The Royal Family.

Yes, he is a prolific writer. Yes, not all of his work is as good as some of his best work. But, Riding Toward Everywhere is some of his best work. It is telling us all to shake off our apathy, our anxiety, our laziness and start to actually see the country we live in. He may not "spell it out" for us in the way we would like or hope for, but if we are already that dead or numb to what Vollmann is saying then we may as well put the book down, grab another Diet Coke, and turn on another exciting and thrilling episode of Dancing with the Stars on our 52-inch plasma screen television.