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Thursday, January 24, 2008

Under a Lucky Star: A Lifetime of Adventure

Read Under a Lucky Star: A Lifetime of Adventure by Roy Chapman Andrews while on vacation. This is the expedition leader/director of the Museum of Natural History and Science that Spielberg and Lucas based Indiana Jones on. The book, to keep things short, is unbelievably inspiring, thrilling, and poignant, tracing Andrews' life as he rises throw the ranks at the museum to become one of the great explorers and natural historians of the early 20th century, eventually becoming director of the Museum, then witnessing the death of the golden age of museums and explorations as the Depression and dwindling public interest slowly forces the museum to transform into something considerably less elegant and romantic.

The book is written in a very chatty, friendly style, and one feels that one is sitting up in a wood-paneled study lined with old books and maps, sipping cognac while an old friend tells the most amazing stories of exploring Mongolia, living in Japan at the turn of the 20th century, exploring China, collecting specimens from Borneo to the Arctic. One of course has to adjust to the 1901 version of conservation work, which was to sail out and blow the unholy crap out of things so you could bring them back to the museum, but once one does, it's all pretty exciting. And the poignancy comes very subtlely, as Andrews bears witness to the transformation of the world -- sometimes for better, sometimes for worse, but always in a way that dispels the air of the romantic. In particular, his emotional bond with Japan is harrowing, falling in love with the country, returning during the earthquake to find many of his old friends dead or missing, then watching the country devolve into the power-mad, cruel empire that would invade China and commit unspeakable atrocities. Similarly, Andrews' first love is China, where he lives immediately after the deposing of the Manchu emperor, and he finds himself in the middle of the country's tumultuous years as a struggling republic dominated by warlords and paranoia.

I am, of course, a romantic at heart, in the grand sense of the tradition, and while I treasure many of the advances we've made, both scientifically and socially, a feller like me can't help but pine somewhat for the days when the world was still vast and mysterious, and guys interested in collecting dinosaur eggs would shoot it out with Chinese bandits on the steppes of Mongolia.

I read the entire book in two days, then reread it on the plane ride home. And then I vowed that my life should be something more than it has become.

On top of all that, my next trip tot he Museum of Natural History (I'm a member, after all) is going to be insufferable for those who go with me. "Oh, that skeleton? Yes, they got that during blah blah blah..."

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