Edward Abbey and Desert Solitaire

Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire is much more than "A Season in the Wilderness." I’ve read Abbey's essays before, some individually published that come from this collection, yet I now see the power of his voice when they all come together to paint a much larger and more beautiful picture. Abbey took me to an unfamiliar world out West, to a world I have never even stepped foot in, to a world that I now feel I know and love, at least enough to want to go there.

In each chapter/essay, Abbey reveals a different aspect of his stay in Arches Park, Utah. His vivid imagery and detailed accounts take the reader inside his camper, to the fire outside his doorstep, through the dry vast desert hills, and inside the pools that fill canyons. But most importantly, what he does is take the reader on a mental journey where destruction, ignorance, politics and civilization haunt and even encourage a deeper, more meaningful meditation on the world in which we live.

I am overly impressed with his ability to retain and record scientific and historical information, whether it be to name every plant and flower he sees in passing, or to recollect a period in history that occurred on the very same ground he is walking. This, along with his diverse voice that is doused with humor, sarcasm, rant, generosity, intelligence, humility, passion and anger create a story where nothing seems to be missing. Abbey includes all aspects of life by meditating on and questioning existence, death, god, nature, man, civilization and culture. And, he does all of this through telling the story of his six month adventure in Arches National Monument, Utah.

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I found Abbey’s method of delivering his opinions and ideals on the topics of industrial tourism, development of national parks and the use of public land to be refreshing, humorous, intelligent and justified. Although as a nature writer myself, I know that environmental agendas in the form of rants are not always respected and/or appreciated in nature writing, I genuinely feel that Abbey was on a different level. From his first essay, Abbey lays a tone for this book, one that is genuine, engaging and credited. His vast knowledge of Utah land, his love of secluded wilderness and his passion for preserving what is still in tact, all play as a foundation for his following “takes” on such topics.

What makes Abbey’s rants work for me, particularly on Industrial Tourism, is that he provides an alternative to the madness he’s trying to prevent. Many times, those who speak out against something are propelled by anger, and come across sounding ridiculous because they do not give any looks or outcomes into another alternative. That being said, there were times in the book when I could not quite believe how viciously honest Abbey was being. I felt that in general his points were heard and whether they be rants of anger and sarcasm or pleads of truth and passion, should be taken seriously.

I especially appreciate Abbey’s take on “wilderness.” He makes it so much more than a place, so much stronger than a nature we know. It is the “past and the unknown, the womb of the earth from which we all emerged.” It is “the only home we shall ever know, the only paradise we ever need—if only we had the eyes to see it” (208).