What do you think?
Rate this book
Allein in den Wäldern: Auf der Suche nach dem wahren Leben
Wirklich ganz zu sich kommen
Allein in den Wäldern, weit weg von den Problemen des modernen Alltags – für viele ein Traum. Howard Axelrod macht ihn wahr und lebt zwei Jahre lang in einem abgeschiedenen Haus in der Wildnis, bis die seltenen Kontakte zur Außenwelt für ihn zu einem gleichzeitig beglückenden wie quälenden Ereignis werden. Es gelingt ihm, sich von den Zwängen der modernen Zivilisation zu lösen und ganz zu sich zu kommen, doch reift in ihm auch die Erkenntnis, dass Probleme sich nicht durch Rückzug lösen lassen. Eine ehrliche, poetische und überraschende Meditation darüber, was es heißt, aus der Welt verschwinden zu wollen und ihr gleichzeitig näherzukommen.
Allein in den Wäldern, weit weg von den Problemen des modernen Alltags – für viele ein Traum. Howard Axelrod macht ihn wahr und lebt zwei Jahre lang in einem abgeschiedenen Haus in der Wildnis, bis die seltenen Kontakte zur Außenwelt für ihn zu einem gleichzeitig beglückenden wie quälenden Ereignis werden. Es gelingt ihm, sich von den Zwängen der modernen Zivilisation zu lösen und ganz zu sich zu kommen, doch reift in ihm auch die Erkenntnis, dass Probleme sich nicht durch Rückzug lösen lassen. Eine ehrliche, poetische und überraschende Meditation darüber, was es heißt, aus der Welt verschwinden zu wollen und ihr gleichzeitig näherzukommen.
289 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 22, 2015
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 121 reviews
November 22, 2023
Abbruch nach rund zwei Drittel des Buchs.
Die schlechte Bewertung gilt gar nicht in erster Linie dem Autor, sondern vielmehr dem deutschen Verlag Kösel, der mit seinem Buchtitel, vor allem Untertitel und auch dem Klappentext eine Erwartung bei mir als Leser erzeugt, die das Buch bei weitem nicht erfüllen kann.
1. „Allein in den Wäldern“: man muss doch vermuten, dass sich das Buch hauptsächlich mit den Begebenheiten und den Gedanken des Autors zu der Zeit befassen, als er ein altes Haus in den Wäldern Vermonts bezieht. Er befindet sich dort übrigens nicht in absoluter Abgeschiedenheit, sondern ist durchaus in der Lage, in einer fahrbaren Distanz die Zivilisation zu erreichen und mit allen Bequemlichkeiten des Lebens einzudecken. Das Problem ist nur, dass nur rund 20 % des Buchs sich um diese Lebensphase drehen. Der Rest ist Schilderung seines privilegierten Lebens als Oberschicht-Sohn während Schul- und Studienjahren. Das interessierte mich wenig. Thema verfehlt.
2. „Auf der Suche nach dem wahren Leben“: der Untertitel ist fast schon eine Frechheit. Hier wird suggeriert, dass die Einsamkeit philosophische Erkenntnisse im Autor haben erwachsen lassen. Stattdessen dreht sich in der ersten Hälfte alles um den Sportunfall, bei dem er die Sehkraft auf einem Auge verlor. Persönlich mag das ein Schicksalsschlag sein, stellt für mich aber noch kein Grund dar, so lange Passagen des Selbstmitleids unter die lesende Bevölkerung zu bringen.
3. „Eine poetische Meditation darüber, was es heißt, aus der Welt verschwinden zu wollen und ihr gleichzeitig näher zu kommen.“: Axelrod kann zwar ganz unterhaltsam schreiben, aber eine poetische Meditation waren die Berichte über Cliquenerlebnisse, Partys, Sport, Elternsorgen, Freundin und Studiumsverlauf nun wirklich nicht.
Das Buch ist in meinen Augen ein Trittbrettfahrer auf dem Zug der vielfältigen Aussteigerbücher auf dem Markt. Eigentlich nett zu lesen, wenn der Inhalt nur nicht so belanglos und themenverfehlt wäre. Da gibt es doch wirklich bessere Bücher zum Thema. Vielleicht sollte ich mich doch erst mal mit dem Klassiker dieses Genre beschäftigen: Walden
Die schlechte Bewertung gilt gar nicht in erster Linie dem Autor, sondern vielmehr dem deutschen Verlag Kösel, der mit seinem Buchtitel, vor allem Untertitel und auch dem Klappentext eine Erwartung bei mir als Leser erzeugt, die das Buch bei weitem nicht erfüllen kann.
1. „Allein in den Wäldern“: man muss doch vermuten, dass sich das Buch hauptsächlich mit den Begebenheiten und den Gedanken des Autors zu der Zeit befassen, als er ein altes Haus in den Wäldern Vermonts bezieht. Er befindet sich dort übrigens nicht in absoluter Abgeschiedenheit, sondern ist durchaus in der Lage, in einer fahrbaren Distanz die Zivilisation zu erreichen und mit allen Bequemlichkeiten des Lebens einzudecken. Das Problem ist nur, dass nur rund 20 % des Buchs sich um diese Lebensphase drehen. Der Rest ist Schilderung seines privilegierten Lebens als Oberschicht-Sohn während Schul- und Studienjahren. Das interessierte mich wenig. Thema verfehlt.
2. „Auf der Suche nach dem wahren Leben“: der Untertitel ist fast schon eine Frechheit. Hier wird suggeriert, dass die Einsamkeit philosophische Erkenntnisse im Autor haben erwachsen lassen. Stattdessen dreht sich in der ersten Hälfte alles um den Sportunfall, bei dem er die Sehkraft auf einem Auge verlor. Persönlich mag das ein Schicksalsschlag sein, stellt für mich aber noch kein Grund dar, so lange Passagen des Selbstmitleids unter die lesende Bevölkerung zu bringen.
3. „Eine poetische Meditation darüber, was es heißt, aus der Welt verschwinden zu wollen und ihr gleichzeitig näher zu kommen.“: Axelrod kann zwar ganz unterhaltsam schreiben, aber eine poetische Meditation waren die Berichte über Cliquenerlebnisse, Partys, Sport, Elternsorgen, Freundin und Studiumsverlauf nun wirklich nicht.
Das Buch ist in meinen Augen ein Trittbrettfahrer auf dem Zug der vielfältigen Aussteigerbücher auf dem Markt. Eigentlich nett zu lesen, wenn der Inhalt nur nicht so belanglos und themenverfehlt wäre. Da gibt es doch wirklich bessere Bücher zum Thema. Vielleicht sollte ich mich doch erst mal mit dem Klassiker dieses Genre beschäftigen: Walden
September 26, 2015
I received a copy of Howard Axelrod's "The Point of Vanishing" from LT's Early Reviewers program. It was a book I found both boring and infuriating.
Axelrod, a privileged guy attending Harvard loses the sight in one of his eyes at a pickup basketball game. He seems to feel this is incredibly tragic and seems to have massive trouble adjusting to this... despite the fact, he can still read, drive and uh, see. (I have a friend who became completely blind as an adult and is off climbing Kilimanjaro at this moment... it's hard to muster up a ton of sympathy for Axelrod here.) I get he had to make a huge adjustment in his life, but it seems like whatever life goals he set were still pretty achievable.
He moves to a cabin in Vermont, which has water, electricity and phone service.... he drives out to the grocery store every couple of weeks. In Axelrod's upper class world, this is pretty remarkable, I suppose. Here, we just call that winter.
I will say Axelrod can write... but his story is not all that interesting nor worthy of a memoir.
Axelrod, a privileged guy attending Harvard loses the sight in one of his eyes at a pickup basketball game. He seems to feel this is incredibly tragic and seems to have massive trouble adjusting to this... despite the fact, he can still read, drive and uh, see. (I have a friend who became completely blind as an adult and is off climbing Kilimanjaro at this moment... it's hard to muster up a ton of sympathy for Axelrod here.) I get he had to make a huge adjustment in his life, but it seems like whatever life goals he set were still pretty achievable.
He moves to a cabin in Vermont, which has water, electricity and phone service.... he drives out to the grocery store every couple of weeks. In Axelrod's upper class world, this is pretty remarkable, I suppose. Here, we just call that winter.
I will say Axelrod can write... but his story is not all that interesting nor worthy of a memoir.
November 13, 2015
The Point of Vanishing is a very beautifully written memoir, more so because it's a debut. I was glad to have won a copy from LibraryThing just to experience Axelrod's way with words; his vivid descriptions of nature and of his feelings are really done exquisitely. But I didn't at first get the point -- of the vanishing, that is. Why did he do what he did? Plus, he didn't really vanish into solitude as the title suggests, but house-sat in a Vermont cabin in the woods for a couple of years. He still saw a few people and still talked on the phone occasionally. That's not true solitude, but it certainly gave him much time for reflection and appreciating the beauty around him, without the distractions of tv, cell phones, and computers.
The why at first glance was the author's tragic sports accident that caused blindness in one eye during his college years. But the author said he didn't want that to change him, or others' perceptions of him. And it shouldn't have; he could still see in one eye and function pretty normally. I don't mean to diminish his experience; I have had some vision issues but certainly not to this extent. Somehow, though, the eye, and a failed romance that was perfectly interwoven with the Vermont story, did change so many things. The more I read, the more the "why" became clearer, but I was still confused at the end about it going on so long and to such extremes that he lost a great amount of weight and muscle tone before finally waking up and rejoining the world.
I would recommend this and would read this author again. 3.5 stars.
The why at first glance was the author's tragic sports accident that caused blindness in one eye during his college years. But the author said he didn't want that to change him, or others' perceptions of him. And it shouldn't have; he could still see in one eye and function pretty normally. I don't mean to diminish his experience; I have had some vision issues but certainly not to this extent. Somehow, though, the eye, and a failed romance that was perfectly interwoven with the Vermont story, did change so many things. The more I read, the more the "why" became clearer, but I was still confused at the end about it going on so long and to such extremes that he lost a great amount of weight and muscle tone before finally waking up and rejoining the world.
I would recommend this and would read this author again. 3.5 stars.
February 18, 2021
In The Point of Vanishing: A Memoir of Two Years in Solitude, Howard Axelrod recounts his retreat into isolation after losing sight in one eye and after losing his first love. My favorite passages were of his time in the back country house. I enjoyed this bit about making tea in the early morning: "I took my time. The loneliness often felt as though the day was slow, and I was stuck outside that slowness, looking in. The way to feel less lonely was to slow down to the day's pace, to be inside it, and to look around from there" (40). The Point of Vanishing is an aspiring young writer's first effort. Some readers might also seek out Baker's A Boxful of Matches, which is a novel about a midlife crisis, or Cheryl Strayed's Wild, which is about hiking the PCT after her life falls apart.
A final note. I ordered this one from the library at the start of the coronavirus but, due to a computer glitch caused by a lost copy, it took nearly a year to arrive.
A final note. I ordered this one from the library at the start of the coronavirus but, due to a computer glitch caused by a lost copy, it took nearly a year to arrive.
June 20, 2021
I'm a sucker for reflections rendered through solitude. Maybe because I spend a lot of time in my head so it feels familiar. Maybe because I fantasize about truly experiencing solitude though I can't do more than a couple of days hiking on my own. But also because what is rendered strikes me as the only kind of truth worth reflecting on.
After a few months of solitary living in a house in the woods, Axelrod notes, "It was the first period in my life when my thoughts had full license to expand. Nothing going on inside me had to be tamed-- I didn't see people, didn't have to organize myself into a person for anyone's eyes." I know Axelrod's ability to attend universities, travel to Europe and across the US, and now to take a sabbatical of sorts from life in a cabin bespeak his privilege. As one Goodreads reviewer seething with self-righteousness observes,
"Axelrod, a privileged guy attending Harvard loses the sight in one of his eyes at a pickup basketball game. He seems to feel this is incredibly tragic and seems to have massive trouble adjusting to this... despite the fact, he can still read, drive and uh, see. (I have a friend who became completely blind as an adult and is off climbing Kilimanjaro at this moment... it's hard to muster up a ton of sympathy for Axelrod here.) I get he had to make a huge adjustment in his life, but it seems like whatever life goals he set were still pretty achievable."
Yet, I don't understand this response to human suffering and loss. So what, it's on sliding scale? Lose your sight and you have my sympathy, but only lose sight in one eye which then causes you to reconsider your connection with yourself and others and I really don't give a damn. I just don't get it. And that's why the minute I read this review, trying to decide if I should order a copy, I ordered one right up.
Of course, Axelrod is privileged (as just about anyone who is consistently reading books and rating them in Goodreads) but he also has experienced deep loss and pain. We don't get to choose how we feel about loss no matter our outward privileges. It's not the exact nature and scale of the loss that should matter, but what someone makes of that loss in terms of living and being and, in this case, writing.
In an attempt to deal with the loss of vision (only in one eye that is :)) and figuring out what to do next with his life, he accepts a creative award to live in Europe doing anything he wants to except getting married. Again, privilege, because he had access to the literary world and was able to demonstrate his skills. While there he meets Milena and they fall beautifully in love with each other, "I felt as though she had returned me to some unknown part of myself, to some interior country where everything I'd felt and longed for made sense. It was similar to what came over me when I read [right here, I myself was overcome with emotion], but now the feeling was outside of me, too--it was vibrating off the walls, off the bed, and I wasn't alone with it." Go to hell Amerynth and take with you all of your indignities about the lowliness of Axelrod's suffering, your judgments of what counts as tragedy.
I believe we all do about as good as we are able to in this life. We all try hard whether this is deemed trying or not. Yes, we can judge how the fruits of this trying supports us and our fellow humans. And this may mean cutting ties with someone who is dangerous to us or our loved ones; it means denouncing someone who attempts to take away the freedoms of others. There we can judge.
But we can't judge how much another suffers. That is not ours to judge. We cannot evaluate someone's loss. And I think this world would a much better place for all if each of us could work just a bit harder to pause and creatively imagine how someone we perceive as privileged is also suffering LIFE. We all must make it to the other side as intact as possible.
After a few months of solitary living in a house in the woods, Axelrod notes, "It was the first period in my life when my thoughts had full license to expand. Nothing going on inside me had to be tamed-- I didn't see people, didn't have to organize myself into a person for anyone's eyes." I know Axelrod's ability to attend universities, travel to Europe and across the US, and now to take a sabbatical of sorts from life in a cabin bespeak his privilege. As one Goodreads reviewer seething with self-righteousness observes,
"Axelrod, a privileged guy attending Harvard loses the sight in one of his eyes at a pickup basketball game. He seems to feel this is incredibly tragic and seems to have massive trouble adjusting to this... despite the fact, he can still read, drive and uh, see. (I have a friend who became completely blind as an adult and is off climbing Kilimanjaro at this moment... it's hard to muster up a ton of sympathy for Axelrod here.) I get he had to make a huge adjustment in his life, but it seems like whatever life goals he set were still pretty achievable."
Yet, I don't understand this response to human suffering and loss. So what, it's on sliding scale? Lose your sight and you have my sympathy, but only lose sight in one eye which then causes you to reconsider your connection with yourself and others and I really don't give a damn. I just don't get it. And that's why the minute I read this review, trying to decide if I should order a copy, I ordered one right up.
Of course, Axelrod is privileged (as just about anyone who is consistently reading books and rating them in Goodreads) but he also has experienced deep loss and pain. We don't get to choose how we feel about loss no matter our outward privileges. It's not the exact nature and scale of the loss that should matter, but what someone makes of that loss in terms of living and being and, in this case, writing.
In an attempt to deal with the loss of vision (only in one eye that is :)) and figuring out what to do next with his life, he accepts a creative award to live in Europe doing anything he wants to except getting married. Again, privilege, because he had access to the literary world and was able to demonstrate his skills. While there he meets Milena and they fall beautifully in love with each other, "I felt as though she had returned me to some unknown part of myself, to some interior country where everything I'd felt and longed for made sense. It was similar to what came over me when I read [right here, I myself was overcome with emotion], but now the feeling was outside of me, too--it was vibrating off the walls, off the bed, and I wasn't alone with it." Go to hell Amerynth and take with you all of your indignities about the lowliness of Axelrod's suffering, your judgments of what counts as tragedy.
I believe we all do about as good as we are able to in this life. We all try hard whether this is deemed trying or not. Yes, we can judge how the fruits of this trying supports us and our fellow humans. And this may mean cutting ties with someone who is dangerous to us or our loved ones; it means denouncing someone who attempts to take away the freedoms of others. There we can judge.
But we can't judge how much another suffers. That is not ours to judge. We cannot evaluate someone's loss. And I think this world would a much better place for all if each of us could work just a bit harder to pause and creatively imagine how someone we perceive as privileged is also suffering LIFE. We all must make it to the other side as intact as possible.
December 19, 2015
While I enjoyed the author's writing style and was intrigued with his lyrical descriptions of the natural world surrounding his isolated rental house in Vermont, I also felt he was perhaps a bit overly dramatic about the unexpected curve-ball thrown him by losing the sight in one eye. It struck me that this is really the memoir of a quite young person, a man looking for himself, which is actually pretty typical of someone in his twenties. It would be interesting to have him revisit those two years of solitude when he is in his sixties, in order to see what sort of perspective life has offered on his physical trials, but his obvious privilege in so many other areas of his life. While I wouldn't go so far as to say he sounded whiny, he did sound very self-absorbed---again, not out of character for his age, as he figures out who he really is.
July 10, 2015
The perfect line to encapsulate Howard Axelrod’s The Point of Vanishing is actually a line from Fight Club: “ “It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.”
The Point of Vanishing splits its narrative between Howard’s final year at Harvard, and his move into a secluded cabin deep in the Vermont woods. Axelrod finds himself quickly becoming acclimated to his new lifestyle, though profoundly unable to shake his past. Vivid portraits of the natural beauty surrounding the cabin are interjected with visceral memories of the freak accident that robbed him of half his eyesight during a pickup basketball game. The author ruminates on lost loves, familial drama, and his acclimation to a world that has suddenly lost its depth, in more ways than one.
The Point of Vanishing splits its narrative between Howard’s final year at Harvard, and his move into a secluded cabin deep in the Vermont woods. Axelrod finds himself quickly becoming acclimated to his new lifestyle, though profoundly unable to shake his past. Vivid portraits of the natural beauty surrounding the cabin are interjected with visceral memories of the freak accident that robbed him of half his eyesight during a pickup basketball game. The author ruminates on lost loves, familial drama, and his acclimation to a world that has suddenly lost its depth, in more ways than one.
February 2, 2016
2.5/5.
This memoir of a privileged young man who can't find his way in life after an accident takes the vision out of one of his eyes is, first of all, written beautifully. Axelrod is a gifted, gifted writer; that this book exists means he was either desperate for money, greedy, or simply open to bad advice. The content of this memoir isn't worthy of a book. That might be a little harsh...but it's how I feel! So basically, after his accident and graduating from Harvard, he ends up travelling and ends up spending two years in near complete isolation in a cabin in the woods. His ruminations on loneliness and the difficulty of spending time with other people again after being in solitude for so long are profound.
This book is meant to appeal to fans of Into The Wild, which I am, but Howard is nothing like Christopher McCandless. McCandless came from a painful family life and sought escape and adventure. Howard Axelrod felt pigeonholed into a great life he believed for whatever reason was not for him and, instead of seeking to build a life for himself, hid away in the woods. I suppose both were foolish in the way young people are, both were desperate for some great reason to go on, for some promise to be fulfilled that no one had made them. You have to make promises to yourself.
The Point of Vanishing would have been great as a long read feature in a magazine, but he had a book deal, not an article deal. Agreeing to that was a big mistake.
This memoir of a privileged young man who can't find his way in life after an accident takes the vision out of one of his eyes is, first of all, written beautifully. Axelrod is a gifted, gifted writer; that this book exists means he was either desperate for money, greedy, or simply open to bad advice. The content of this memoir isn't worthy of a book. That might be a little harsh...but it's how I feel! So basically, after his accident and graduating from Harvard, he ends up travelling and ends up spending two years in near complete isolation in a cabin in the woods. His ruminations on loneliness and the difficulty of spending time with other people again after being in solitude for so long are profound.
This book is meant to appeal to fans of Into The Wild, which I am, but Howard is nothing like Christopher McCandless. McCandless came from a painful family life and sought escape and adventure. Howard Axelrod felt pigeonholed into a great life he believed for whatever reason was not for him and, instead of seeking to build a life for himself, hid away in the woods. I suppose both were foolish in the way young people are, both were desperate for some great reason to go on, for some promise to be fulfilled that no one had made them. You have to make promises to yourself.
The Point of Vanishing would have been great as a long read feature in a magazine, but he had a book deal, not an article deal. Agreeing to that was a big mistake.
December 23, 2015
3.5 stars
October 27, 2017
For those who look beyond their daily life to find themselves. An accident causes the author to find a new path for his life and he writes of his journey. For those who enjoy introspective memoirs.
January 3, 2021
Meine Meinung:
Ich habe mir das Buch aufgrund des Titels gekauft. Auch der Klappentext suggerierte mir, dass dieses Buch, ähnlich wie zum Beispiel „In die Wildnis“ von Jon Krakauer, eine Hommage an das einsame Leben draußen in der freien Natur und die dortige Selbstfindung darstellen soll. Dem war leider bei weitem nicht so.
Der Autor Howard Axelrod schildert in 2/3 des Buches sein Leben nach einem tragischen Sportunfall, bei dem er die Sehkraft seines rechten Auges verlor.
Für meinen Geschmack viel zu wenig wird sein Aufenthalt in einer Hütte in Vermont beschrieben. Auch lebt er dort nicht mutterseelenallein, sondern ein Nachbar kommt immer wieder vorbei und dank seines Hondas ist Axelrod auch selbst in der Lage, sich im nahegelegenen Supermarkt mit Essbarem einzudecken.
Der Autor will mit diesem Buch auf den Zug der vielen Aussteigerbücher aufspringen, die ja tatsächlich großen Erfolg hatten.
Für mich hat die Geschichte leider nicht halten können, was der Titel versprach. Sehr schade!
Meine Bewertung:
2,5/5 Sterne
Ich habe mir das Buch aufgrund des Titels gekauft. Auch der Klappentext suggerierte mir, dass dieses Buch, ähnlich wie zum Beispiel „In die Wildnis“ von Jon Krakauer, eine Hommage an das einsame Leben draußen in der freien Natur und die dortige Selbstfindung darstellen soll. Dem war leider bei weitem nicht so.
Der Autor Howard Axelrod schildert in 2/3 des Buches sein Leben nach einem tragischen Sportunfall, bei dem er die Sehkraft seines rechten Auges verlor.
Für meinen Geschmack viel zu wenig wird sein Aufenthalt in einer Hütte in Vermont beschrieben. Auch lebt er dort nicht mutterseelenallein, sondern ein Nachbar kommt immer wieder vorbei und dank seines Hondas ist Axelrod auch selbst in der Lage, sich im nahegelegenen Supermarkt mit Essbarem einzudecken.
Der Autor will mit diesem Buch auf den Zug der vielen Aussteigerbücher aufspringen, die ja tatsächlich großen Erfolg hatten.
Für mich hat die Geschichte leider nicht halten können, was der Titel versprach. Sehr schade!
Meine Bewertung:
2,5/5 Sterne
Read
July 6, 2019People called this poetic maybe i couldn’t appreciate that but i didnt like the writing or formatting.
September 3, 2015
Full disclosure, I've taken a class with Howard as my instructor. That being said, I wasn't sure what to expect from his book. He hadn't talked about it much to our class, so I was going in not totally clear on what I'd be reading. Thankfully, it includes one of my favorite places (Vermont) and is written as a memoir, which is my favorite genre.
How does one write a memoir about solitude, though, when there's very little action or tension? You write something like The Point of Vanishing: character realizations combined with sharp prose. The descriptions are lush and full, giving wonderful images of the surroundings, whether it be Vermont, Boston, or visiting his family in New York. What drives the book is how well-written it is. It's deserving of a re-read just for the prose.
The exploration of Howard's life during this time has him asking many questions of himself, but I still had my share of questions I wanted answered after reading The Point of Vanishing. I was curious as to what an average day consisted of for Howard. I got a feel for things here and there, but never got an entirely full picture. Did he just tromp around the woods every day? Or was there more going on in his life than what he shared? If that was being left out, what else was missing?
As another reviewer mentioned, I couldn't quite understand why Howard was so hard on himself. He had a lot of things going for him—-what led him to the aimlessness and uncertainty? Was it because of losing his vision in one eye? If so, that didn't come through as strong as I would've liked.
These questions (and others) kept me from finding this to be a terrific book, but as it stands it's still as a solid piece of writing that evokes vivid images and powerful, reflective moments.
How does one write a memoir about solitude, though, when there's very little action or tension? You write something like The Point of Vanishing: character realizations combined with sharp prose. The descriptions are lush and full, giving wonderful images of the surroundings, whether it be Vermont, Boston, or visiting his family in New York. What drives the book is how well-written it is. It's deserving of a re-read just for the prose.
The exploration of Howard's life during this time has him asking many questions of himself, but I still had my share of questions I wanted answered after reading The Point of Vanishing. I was curious as to what an average day consisted of for Howard. I got a feel for things here and there, but never got an entirely full picture. Did he just tromp around the woods every day? Or was there more going on in his life than what he shared? If that was being left out, what else was missing?
As another reviewer mentioned, I couldn't quite understand why Howard was so hard on himself. He had a lot of things going for him—-what led him to the aimlessness and uncertainty? Was it because of losing his vision in one eye? If so, that didn't come through as strong as I would've liked.
These questions (and others) kept me from finding this to be a terrific book, but as it stands it's still as a solid piece of writing that evokes vivid images and powerful, reflective moments.
May 26, 2016
I read The Point of Vanishing while staying in a remote cottage with a wood-burning stove very similar to the one Axelrod describes. It should have been perfect for my contemplative mood, and parts of it were, yet it was hard to ignore the very first-world-problem-ness of it all. Yes, losing an eye sucked. As a very nearsighted person (thanks, reading!) who has had a contact go off center at inopportune times, I can sympathize to a certain degree with the disorientation of seeing from just one eye. But to spend two years trying to find internal equilibrium again seems a bit indulgent. It probably doesn't help that I recently read naturalist Bernd Heinrich's A Year in the Maine Woods, which has both more actual hardship (I can't quite picture Axelrod digging out a latrine) and a lot more recognition of the existence of a world beyond the self. Both do an interesting job of exploring the effects of prolonged solitude, but Heinrich's account comes from a place of self-knowledge and maturity rather than questioning.
The writing in this memoir is often quite lovely, occasionally overwritten. Not all that much really happens, although there's one friendship I find touching. I'd be interested in seeing Axelrod revisit this experiment in another twenty years. Hell, I'd love to have the chance to see what two years of solitude in the woods would do to me. But...you know, there's work and school and all that other stuff the plebes have to deal with.
The writing in this memoir is often quite lovely, occasionally overwritten. Not all that much really happens, although there's one friendship I find touching. I'd be interested in seeing Axelrod revisit this experiment in another twenty years. Hell, I'd love to have the chance to see what two years of solitude in the woods would do to me. But...you know, there's work and school and all that other stuff the plebes have to deal with.
November 14, 2016
Unfortunately I was very distracted reading this book and it didn't hold my attention as I had hoped. Partially that is the fault of the book, and partially my fault. This book made me contemplate two things. Perception, the theme of another book "Fates and Furies" that I just read. The perception you have of yourself vs. the perception others have of you. At the end of his two years of solitude, I think perception was something he focused on.
The other is how lost we can get as a human being. Lost in our thoughts, lost in ourselves, lost in the loss of something, or perhaps grief, lost in time and space. I find more and more that it's harder for me to engage with new people and things. I'm so bombarded with stuff that all I want to do is be solitary (except for my family). I think this memoir is about how easy it CAN BE to check out, and the difficulty in checking back in once you've done that. I find a lot of the time it's tough just being an adult, let alone an adult trying to adjust to the loss of eyesight, or some other health related issue. For all those people who get up in the morning and participate, you deserve several gold stars!!!! And for those that the world is too much, too busy, too material, or just TOO TOO, I am with you! I hear you, and I'm trying to lessen for myself. Good Luck to us all.
The other is how lost we can get as a human being. Lost in our thoughts, lost in ourselves, lost in the loss of something, or perhaps grief, lost in time and space. I find more and more that it's harder for me to engage with new people and things. I'm so bombarded with stuff that all I want to do is be solitary (except for my family). I think this memoir is about how easy it CAN BE to check out, and the difficulty in checking back in once you've done that. I find a lot of the time it's tough just being an adult, let alone an adult trying to adjust to the loss of eyesight, or some other health related issue. For all those people who get up in the morning and participate, you deserve several gold stars!!!! And for those that the world is too much, too busy, too material, or just TOO TOO, I am with you! I hear you, and I'm trying to lessen for myself. Good Luck to us all.
May 25, 2015
Rarely do I read a book that makes me think as much about myself as this one did. What's even more interesting is that this is a memoir, which makes the book even more compelling. I enjoyed the layout of the book, the back and forth between the past and the present in the Vermont woods. The author has to come to terms with the loss of vision in one eye, and he does this successfully through careful consideration of the months following the accident, along with his time spent in solitude. The descriptions of the surroundings he experiences in his solitude are wonderful; I could almost see the woods and the wildlife, feel the cold, and sense the loneliness that he sometimes felt. My only disappointment in the book was the title. I thought that Axelrod had spent 2 years totally without human contact, but that wasn't the case at all. While almost all of his time was spent alone, there was some contact with others on a regular basis. Once I got into the book, however, I forgot my disappointment.
October 22, 2015
Great book! I'm normally not a huge memoir fan, but I could not put this one down. Axelrod has a story to tell, and he's a very gifted writer. I liked this book so much that I actually wrote a formal review of it for The Rumpus. Check it out here: http://therumpus.net/2015/10/the-poin...
Highly recommended!
Highly recommended!
October 6, 2015
Lovely writing and I felt the pull into the woods. Kept thinking maybe he'd have been lost even without losing an eye...
March 6, 2024
A brave attempt at creative nonfiction dealing with failed relationships and failing vision. Personally, I could get into it. It was ably read by the author. I feel it could be quite valuable to someone going through a similar life experience.
September 28, 2015
The beauty of nature, the stark whiteness of winter snow capped trees, remote roads in need of snowplowing, snow-shoeing in the area of backwoods Vermont where author Howard Axelrod lived in isolation in a make shift cabin. "The Point of Vanishing: A Memoir of Two Years in Solitude" recalls his decision to live as a hermit during his time, and the events that connected him back to his community. Axelrod currently lives in Boston, and teaches at Grub Street. His writing has been featured in several notable publications including the Boston Globe and NYT Magazine. This is his first book.
During his junior year at Harvard University, Axelrod sustained an eye injury while playing basketball with a friend. The first examining doctor thought his vision would return to normal, yet the accident left him permanently partially blind in the injured eye. Axelrod was the winner of the Rockefeller Fellowship, recommended by his advisor for students who were at a "crossroads" in their lives. He spent the year abroad in Bologna, Italy. The requirement of the fellowship was that he not enroll in a formal study program or marry. From the book).... this was "a journey of adventure and discovery at a vulnerable and pivotal time in one's life".... It wasn't surprising that he fell deeply in love with a German woman, Melina. The relationship unfolded rather predictability, as Axelrod dealt with cultural differences and the reality of his new love, and learning new ways to "see" in relation to his visual issues.
The story went back and forth between Axelrod's life in the community and in the living in the woods. It was unclear how he was able to drive cross-country, in heavy traffic, or live solo in the dense backwoods (and maneuver around safely) with such a visual impairment. When he visited his family for Thanksgiving, staying at his aunt and uncle's home in Newburgh; he slept in freezing temperatures in a tent in their back yard. Later reported to the police when he walked around their neighborhood (around 6:00 am in his night clothes) as a "suspicious" person. By this point in the story, Axelrod seemed oblivious of how he may have been perceived by others. When he was checked by his doctor later, unaware of his weight drop from 150 pounds to 120, he had the "musculature" of an 80 year old man! Axelrod was very good at detailing the situations around him, though shared less on an emotional level. It was a good thing to see him fianlly return to his community after his self-imposed exile.
Many thanks to Beacon Press, Boston for the ARC of this book for the purpose of review.
During his junior year at Harvard University, Axelrod sustained an eye injury while playing basketball with a friend. The first examining doctor thought his vision would return to normal, yet the accident left him permanently partially blind in the injured eye. Axelrod was the winner of the Rockefeller Fellowship, recommended by his advisor for students who were at a "crossroads" in their lives. He spent the year abroad in Bologna, Italy. The requirement of the fellowship was that he not enroll in a formal study program or marry. From the book).... this was "a journey of adventure and discovery at a vulnerable and pivotal time in one's life".... It wasn't surprising that he fell deeply in love with a German woman, Melina. The relationship unfolded rather predictability, as Axelrod dealt with cultural differences and the reality of his new love, and learning new ways to "see" in relation to his visual issues.
The story went back and forth between Axelrod's life in the community and in the living in the woods. It was unclear how he was able to drive cross-country, in heavy traffic, or live solo in the dense backwoods (and maneuver around safely) with such a visual impairment. When he visited his family for Thanksgiving, staying at his aunt and uncle's home in Newburgh; he slept in freezing temperatures in a tent in their back yard. Later reported to the police when he walked around their neighborhood (around 6:00 am in his night clothes) as a "suspicious" person. By this point in the story, Axelrod seemed oblivious of how he may have been perceived by others. When he was checked by his doctor later, unaware of his weight drop from 150 pounds to 120, he had the "musculature" of an 80 year old man! Axelrod was very good at detailing the situations around him, though shared less on an emotional level. It was a good thing to see him fianlly return to his community after his self-imposed exile.
Many thanks to Beacon Press, Boston for the ARC of this book for the purpose of review.
October 25, 2015
There were two things which initially drew me to this book. One is that I am a big fan of Thoreau and I am always interested in books which revolve around nature, similar to Walden, and I have someone very close in my life who struggles with vision impairment, and we both share a strong connection to nature and understand the healing power that reconnecting with nature can have. When someone loses something that is so much a part of how they identify themselves, and how they perceive themselves and the world around them, such as ones eye sight rediscovering nature without the distractions of the modern world, and rediscovering ones more primal needs, rediscovering what it truly is to be human can help one find a way to reconnect with the world and hone in the other senses to readapt ones perception of themselves and the world.
I thought this books would be both very relateable, as well as perhaps offer new insights. and it did not disappoint. I found it to be very compelling from the first page. The descriptions of nature were quite poetic and I thought the author did a wonderful job of truly pulling the reader into the story and making the reader experience what he was experiencing. I am an avid fan of horror, I read and watch a lot of dark, twisted, gory and gruesome things I am not given to being squeamish but the account that Axelrod gave of his accident, and the visit to the doctor afterword made me squirm, and cringe, almost as if I really could feel his pain. I thought it was fascinating reading about his struggles to adapt to the new way he perceived the world, and I loved the line about how everyone's reality is a product of their own mind.
I really liked how the story flashed back and forth through time, and seeing the parallels between the past experiences which helped lead him into this place of isolation, and the way in which experiences he had in the woods, and his few awkward attempts at reestablishing human contact seemed to trigger certain memories. I thought the transitions between events and time was really well done.
I thought this books would be both very relateable, as well as perhaps offer new insights. and it did not disappoint. I found it to be very compelling from the first page. The descriptions of nature were quite poetic and I thought the author did a wonderful job of truly pulling the reader into the story and making the reader experience what he was experiencing. I am an avid fan of horror, I read and watch a lot of dark, twisted, gory and gruesome things I am not given to being squeamish but the account that Axelrod gave of his accident, and the visit to the doctor afterword made me squirm, and cringe, almost as if I really could feel his pain. I thought it was fascinating reading about his struggles to adapt to the new way he perceived the world, and I loved the line about how everyone's reality is a product of their own mind.
I really liked how the story flashed back and forth through time, and seeing the parallels between the past experiences which helped lead him into this place of isolation, and the way in which experiences he had in the woods, and his few awkward attempts at reestablishing human contact seemed to trigger certain memories. I thought the transitions between events and time was really well done.
August 23, 2026
What a gift to be given this book! My heart goes out to Howard Axelrod, the awkward achiever and pleaser whose life felt so hollow. Truly, he loses an eye and sheds all social connections to find his ultimate legitimacy as part of a much larger ecosystem. Axelrod feels like a deeply kindred spirit to me, and he has worked wonders in bringing his interior life to light in such a sensitive and deeply revealing way. He clearly spent a long time crafting the book, and entwining his earlier life into the telling of his two years of solitude.
Much of his pain emerges, and much of his redemption happens as he simply steps out of his secluded cottage into the woods, in all seasons, and walks "as slowly as was humanly comfortable and to see and hear as much as I could see and hear." Without any clocks in his ecosystem "my sense of time came only from the sun and the stars, and from the time it took water to boil, for the fire to catch." There is some deep balm to my soul to accompany him in this simple primal journey of nature.
As a person who has always been an introvert yet craving human connection, I found wisdom in the reflections that emerge from this deeply quiet time and space.
Most of the book unfolds in the realms of the personal, emotional and spiritual. Nonetheless there are snippets of important science, such as the understanding that the "spidey sense" he develops of people's movements that he can't literally see with his one eye, is based on neurological changes:
Before his accident, Howard was the Harvard golden boy. "I was the natural, the one who could breeze through anything." And yet - and yet - his life falls apart and it is not just the matter of losing an eye. In some way his whole golden life feels uncertain, impermanent, in some way false or unreliable. It's hard for me to paraphrase what the book expresses much better - there is a way the bottom falls out of his world and he just knows he has to keep diving deeper. I can strongly relate.
Even when things are going perfectly well, there is some deep doubt within him, sensitively primed like a tripwire. For example during his picnic in the Italian sunshine with Milena "I didn't know why I was so at home with her. It made me uneasy." Maybe, he wonders "I'd forfeited my admission ticket to normalcy ... there was no opening in the hedgerow for me to pop back through" into a more normal world.
The fulcrum of the story is in many ways his choice, whether or not to come back into the "land of the living." We know he did so because we are reading his printed, published book. But in the heart of the story I could feel the call of the wild. "There was a birdlike lightness in my bones....There was something I had found here, something in the silence, but I didn't know how to offer it to anyone... I didn't know how to return. And I couldn't help seeing the ... lane ... leading farther into the woods, and deeper into winter, rather than back into town."
This is the point of vanishing - to go out and be one with nature, to listen and commune with nature through the whole body and soul.
I have benefited from his choice to return to human society, not least through his vivid, poetic evocations of nature. For example of the early spring
Here's a glimpse of his vision for integrating wilderness wisdom with city life:
And his warning of the fatal conceit of many marketing gurus:
I love his pragmatic recipe for returning to the conventional world, even as he documents his stumbling failure at a Thanksgiving party:
And he does a great job of describing the indescribable, when "there is no bottom to the falling, no rock bottom where my feet became solid beneath me." He realizes that he can keep delving deeper but he will never reach truly solid ground. "There was no further surface to peel away, no more scrim to mistrust." Ultimately, he realizes his choice is whether or not to kill himself.
I am glad he chose to stay alive and share his journey with such depth and poetic skill:
Much of his pain emerges, and much of his redemption happens as he simply steps out of his secluded cottage into the woods, in all seasons, and walks "as slowly as was humanly comfortable and to see and hear as much as I could see and hear." Without any clocks in his ecosystem "my sense of time came only from the sun and the stars, and from the time it took water to boil, for the fire to catch." There is some deep balm to my soul to accompany him in this simple primal journey of nature.
As a person who has always been an introvert yet craving human connection, I found wisdom in the reflections that emerge from this deeply quiet time and space.
So much of loneliness, I realized, was social envy, the desire to be included, but with no prospect of being included, that layer of loneliness sifted away.We can choose solitude and be complete!
Most of the book unfolds in the realms of the personal, emotional and spiritual. Nonetheless there are snippets of important science, such as the understanding that the "spidey sense" he develops of people's movements that he can't literally see with his one eye, is based on neurological changes:
the visual area of the brain begins to process auditory and tactile information within five days of the loss of vision.It is not only emotionally, physically and spiritually that we are designed to adapt. The very wiring of our brains is fundamentally and nimbly adaptive.
Before his accident, Howard was the Harvard golden boy. "I was the natural, the one who could breeze through anything." And yet - and yet - his life falls apart and it is not just the matter of losing an eye. In some way his whole golden life feels uncertain, impermanent, in some way false or unreliable. It's hard for me to paraphrase what the book expresses much better - there is a way the bottom falls out of his world and he just knows he has to keep diving deeper. I can strongly relate.
Even when things are going perfectly well, there is some deep doubt within him, sensitively primed like a tripwire. For example during his picnic in the Italian sunshine with Milena "I didn't know why I was so at home with her. It made me uneasy." Maybe, he wonders "I'd forfeited my admission ticket to normalcy ... there was no opening in the hedgerow for me to pop back through" into a more normal world.
The fulcrum of the story is in many ways his choice, whether or not to come back into the "land of the living." We know he did so because we are reading his printed, published book. But in the heart of the story I could feel the call of the wild. "There was a birdlike lightness in my bones....There was something I had found here, something in the silence, but I didn't know how to offer it to anyone... I didn't know how to return. And I couldn't help seeing the ... lane ... leading farther into the woods, and deeper into winter, rather than back into town."
This is the point of vanishing - to go out and be one with nature, to listen and commune with nature through the whole body and soul.
I have benefited from his choice to return to human society, not least through his vivid, poetic evocations of nature. For example of the early spring
the pointed, brick-brown buds of the sugar maples, the scent of the wet earth returning to the air, every tree pushing into itself, into particular branches, into particular leaves, saying here and here and here - had finally come true. To stand and breathe amid that force, to feel it fighting into life all around me, had been quietly terrifying in May, as though I were falling behind while everything around me pushed ahead.And then the analogous sap rises in him - "the earth was rising into me" and he describes the physical, mental, emotional and sexual ecstasy that emerges.
Here's a glimpse of his vision for integrating wilderness wisdom with city life:
Where people and restaurants and stores still changed block to block, but where you couldn't help recognizing, where everyone couldn't help recognizing, the stars wheeling overhead, and the seasons following one after the next, and some center inside all of it abiding, enduring, saying the same.This is a vision I share, and one which is by no means secure as humanity flirts with unhinging itself from its ecological roots.
And his warning of the fatal conceit of many marketing gurus:
The ads on the subway kiosk that featured life-size photographs of Albert Einstein and Pablo Picasso, the words think different emblazoned beside a little white apple, as though Einstein and Picasso had time-travelled to 1999 and derived their genius from a computer, as though the gateway to a unique way of seeing was looking at the world through a screen.This alternative path to intelligence gained through digital screens is alive and maybe sensing victory as I read the book and write this review in 2026.
I love his pragmatic recipe for returning to the conventional world, even as he documents his stumbling failure at a Thanksgiving party:
I told myself to keep seeing ... the land below everything - and to remember to do that with my family, too, to look for what glowed inside each of them, below the jewelry, the makeup, the small talk about football or the stock market. I told myself the subtext below every conversation, whatever the words were, was really love."I also know this to be true for me and my family, and still I often stumble, feel outside and other and excluded. It is a lifelong struggle.
And he does a great job of describing the indescribable, when "there is no bottom to the falling, no rock bottom where my feet became solid beneath me." He realizes that he can keep delving deeper but he will never reach truly solid ground. "There was no further surface to peel away, no more scrim to mistrust." Ultimately, he realizes his choice is whether or not to kill himself.
I am glad he chose to stay alive and share his journey with such depth and poetic skill:
I did not want to lose my body.As he says, "these woods had given me a second chance..." What a blessing.
June 11, 2015
"But what I remember most vividly is those mornings. Behind me, through the screen window, I could hear the soft sounds of my friends sleeping. The lake would be still as glass, just skeins do mist drafting across it, the morning light flashing green and gold." p. 29
I have read a number of books about solitude and aloneness lately. I am not entirely sure why this is happened, but serendipity is an amazing thing. I am guessing that is why this title leapt out at me when I saw it on Beacon's forthcoming list.
There were moments, like the passage above, where I stopped and reread Axelrod's prose. His way with words is often beautiful. He painted pictures in my mind. I really liked his descriptions of nature, winter and how the cold invaded his life.
There were other times, when his story made me stop because I was frustrated with his behavior. Why would a smart Harvard guy be so hard on himself? I occasionally questioned Axelrod's common sense.
This book was not written for me. I am not sure of the intended audience, but I am pretty sure that non-adventuresome, older women are not on the list. Axelrod brought out the mom in me and I wanted him to spend more time with people.
If you are interested in a young man's reaction to trauma, or biographies of people like McCandless (into the Wild), this may be a book you will find fascinating.
Thank you to Beacon Press and Edelweiss for giving me the opportunity to read this autobiography. I don't doubt that many will find it well-written with plenty to think about.
I have read a number of books about solitude and aloneness lately. I am not entirely sure why this is happened, but serendipity is an amazing thing. I am guessing that is why this title leapt out at me when I saw it on Beacon's forthcoming list.
There were moments, like the passage above, where I stopped and reread Axelrod's prose. His way with words is often beautiful. He painted pictures in my mind. I really liked his descriptions of nature, winter and how the cold invaded his life.
There were other times, when his story made me stop because I was frustrated with his behavior. Why would a smart Harvard guy be so hard on himself? I occasionally questioned Axelrod's common sense.
This book was not written for me. I am not sure of the intended audience, but I am pretty sure that non-adventuresome, older women are not on the list. Axelrod brought out the mom in me and I wanted him to spend more time with people.
If you are interested in a young man's reaction to trauma, or biographies of people like McCandless (into the Wild), this may be a book you will find fascinating.
Thank you to Beacon Press and Edelweiss for giving me the opportunity to read this autobiography. I don't doubt that many will find it well-written with plenty to think about.
October 29, 2015
While in his junior year at Harvard, the author lost the vision in one eye in a freak accident during a basketball game. He dropped out of college and moved to a remote cabin in Vermont. I expected something like Thoreau, and while there were some stunning nature descriptions and a few valuable insights into himself and others, it was definitely not Thoreau.
The book's subtitle is "a memoir of two years in solitude." Not exactly. The author lived in a cabin with running water, electricity, telephone; he drove into town once a week, shopped, ate at restaurants, chatted with townsfolk, went to a movie.
There were some wonderful metaphors. One day he goes to eat in a diner and gets involved in a conversation with his waitress. He feels like he is playing some sport, responding quickly to unpredictable comments. "I'd forgotten the thrill. Did people really do this all the time --minute after minute, hour after hour?" Midway during his two years, he goes home to the extended family's Thanksgiving dinner. He describes the mealtime as "like eating inside a pinball machine." Thinking of heading into a shop in town, he anticipates the bells on the shop door ringing and then the clerk's hello "rattling around in my chest like the first coin in a beggar's cup."
Basically, I thought this was an interesting book, but wished the author had more insight to offer.
The book's subtitle is "a memoir of two years in solitude." Not exactly. The author lived in a cabin with running water, electricity, telephone; he drove into town once a week, shopped, ate at restaurants, chatted with townsfolk, went to a movie.
There were some wonderful metaphors. One day he goes to eat in a diner and gets involved in a conversation with his waitress. He feels like he is playing some sport, responding quickly to unpredictable comments. "I'd forgotten the thrill. Did people really do this all the time --minute after minute, hour after hour?" Midway during his two years, he goes home to the extended family's Thanksgiving dinner. He describes the mealtime as "like eating inside a pinball machine." Thinking of heading into a shop in town, he anticipates the bells on the shop door ringing and then the clerk's hello "rattling around in my chest like the first coin in a beggar's cup."
Basically, I thought this was an interesting book, but wished the author had more insight to offer.
November 9, 2015
Hard to rate this one. A quick read, that I really liked for the first half. It was very poetic and descriptive of Axelrods unfortunate eye injury, and his literal and figurative change of perception as he moved to deeply rural Vermont. Somewhere in the middle though, it started reading a bit blah blah blah. He eludes to this great romance, that then sounds more like a student abroad hook up. His romantic ramblings start to get boring, and his utter disrespect of conversation is irritating. Answering every question with a question, or just not answering at all makes him sound like a jerk. I have a "hermit" relative, he lives way out in the middle of nowhere, alone, 98% of the time, and he has great manners.
So this would get a 2.5, I will round up since I truly enjoyed the first half, but I'm looking forward to moving on from this one.
So this would get a 2.5, I will round up since I truly enjoyed the first half, but I'm looking forward to moving on from this one.
June 10, 2021
A beautifully, and lyrically, written memoir. Axelrod’s writing skills allowed me to have brief glimpses of that oneness with the natural world that I’ve heard is the outcome of extended periods of solitude. However, similar to other reviewers, I was at a bit of a loss as to why he needed that solitude a full two years post-accident, and I’m still not sure what brought the solitude to an abrupt and satisfying conclusion for him, given that just a few pages before the end he was still thinking he’d be staying put in the cabin in the woods.
September 8, 2015
Something in the last 10 pages didn't really work for me. Otherwise, this is some of the most beautiful nature writing I've ever read. I also think this book gave me very clear and intimate insight into the personhood of a friend of mine who says some of the same things about silence, and that was really, really wonderful.
September 29, 2015
The Point of Vanishing: A Memoir of Two Years in Solitude, the stunning debut book by Howard Axelrod, made me see more clearly, hear more acutely, love more completely. Every once in a while superb writing meets a gut-wrenching story of survival and resilience, loss and love, and in the end triumph over tragedy.
July 17, 2016
This guy is a good writer, but his life story just isn't that interesting or inspiring.
May 7, 2017
The title of Axelrod's book is perfect because it conveys the two thrusts of the book.
In his junior year at Harvard, Axelrod lost the use of one of his eyes as the result of an accident during a pickup basketball game with friends. Several went after a loose ball. One of the men put his finger into his eye up to his knuckle while lunging for the ball. The end result was that the iris was detached and the optic nerve in back of the eye was severed. There is no hope of recovering sight in his eye.
Axelrod returned to school and graduated on schedule. He did not know which direction to go in. A professor suggested that he pursue a Rockefeller Fellowship. He received the fellowship and landed in Italy for a year. Eventually he met a woman whom he loved deeply. The relationship was complicated and could not continue. She broke it off.
When Axelrod returned to the States, he travelled west and did a number of jobs. He felt disconnected from himself. He discerned that he needed to withdraw from society, perceived expectations, and from pursing a future he could not imagine. He found a house in the woods of northern Vermont to stay in over the course of two years. The point of vanishing was to be alone, to grieve, to heal, to connect with the natural world.
The process was difficult emotionally and physically. Axelrod nearly vanished as a physical person. He lost a significant amount of weight. He was told by a physical therapist when he came out of his self-imposed exile that he had the musculature of an eighty year old.
Axelrod is a gifted writer. When he describes walking in the Vermont forest or staying in the house in the woods, the reader hears every sound, feels every breeze, sees every leaf and tree. When he describes his inner malaise and his awkwardness with family, friends, strangers, the reader feels it too.
In his junior year at Harvard, Axelrod lost the use of one of his eyes as the result of an accident during a pickup basketball game with friends. Several went after a loose ball. One of the men put his finger into his eye up to his knuckle while lunging for the ball. The end result was that the iris was detached and the optic nerve in back of the eye was severed. There is no hope of recovering sight in his eye.
Axelrod returned to school and graduated on schedule. He did not know which direction to go in. A professor suggested that he pursue a Rockefeller Fellowship. He received the fellowship and landed in Italy for a year. Eventually he met a woman whom he loved deeply. The relationship was complicated and could not continue. She broke it off.
When Axelrod returned to the States, he travelled west and did a number of jobs. He felt disconnected from himself. He discerned that he needed to withdraw from society, perceived expectations, and from pursing a future he could not imagine. He found a house in the woods of northern Vermont to stay in over the course of two years. The point of vanishing was to be alone, to grieve, to heal, to connect with the natural world.
The process was difficult emotionally and physically. Axelrod nearly vanished as a physical person. He lost a significant amount of weight. He was told by a physical therapist when he came out of his self-imposed exile that he had the musculature of an eighty year old.
Axelrod is a gifted writer. When he describes walking in the Vermont forest or staying in the house in the woods, the reader hears every sound, feels every breeze, sees every leaf and tree. When he describes his inner malaise and his awkwardness with family, friends, strangers, the reader feels it too.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 121 reviews