Rebecca Solnit’s A Field Guide to Getting Lost isn’t a survival manual for the geographically challenged. It’s not about finding your way out of the woods with a compass and map. Instead, it’s a collection of nine essays exploring the philosophical and emotional dimensions of being lost, both literally and figuratively. Solnit invites us to consider the value of uncertainty, the transformative power of the unknown, and the surprising discoveries that can arise when we relinquish control and embrace the uncharted territory of life.
The book opens with a thought-provoking question posed by one of Solnit’s students: “How will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is unknown to you?” This question serves as a guiding principle throughout the essays, prompting Solnit to delve into a diverse range of topics, from the history of walking to the exploration of art and personal experiences. She meanders through subjects like dreams, family history, love affairs, and even a play she never completed, creating a rich tapestry of ideas and reflections.
One particularly compelling essay revolves around turtles and tortoises. A dream of a tortoise triggers a childhood memory, leading to an encounter in the desert, and culminating in a reflection on environmental protection and a poignant memory of her father’s frustration with development. This seemingly random association illustrates Solnit’s ability to connect seemingly disparate elements, revealing unexpected connections and insights.
Solnit’s writing style is reminiscent of her previous work, Wanderlust, a history of walking. Reading A Field Guide to Getting Lost feels like accompanying a knowledgeable hiker who, while lacking a map, possesses a wealth of fascinating knowledge about the surrounding environment. She guides the reader through a landscape of ideas, offering unique perspectives and challenging conventional thinking.
While her approach can sometimes feel vague or circuitous, this is precisely the point. Just as getting lost in the physical world can lead to unexpected discoveries, so too can intellectual wandering lead to new insights and perspectives.
Solnit draws a parallel between the experience of getting lost and the pursuit of transformative experiences such as love, wisdom, and inspiration. These are not things that can be found through a direct, calculated approach. Rather, they require a willingness to venture into the unknown, to step outside of one’s comfort zone, and to embrace the possibility of change.
She illustrates the perils of misguided certainty with the story of 19th-century American travelers who, lured by a New Yorker’s false promises, ended up stranded in Death Valley. Their pursuit of gold led them to a place where it proved utterly useless, highlighting the dangers of clinging to inaccurate maps and the importance of adaptability.
The story of Cabeza de Vaca, a Spanish adventurer who spent years lost in the Mississippi delta, serves as a central metaphor in the book. Captured, enslaved, and forced to adapt to a new culture, de Vaca ultimately transformed through his experience, becoming something new. Solnit uses de Vaca’s story to emphasize the transformative potential of getting lost, arguing that it can lead to personal growth and a deeper understanding of oneself and the world. De Vaca “ceased to be lost not by returning but by turning into something else.”
A Field Guide to Getting Lost is not a book for those seeking easy answers or straightforward directions. It’s a book for those who are willing to embrace ambiguity, to question their assumptions, and to embark on a journey of self-discovery. It’s an invitation to relinquish control, to wander off the beaten path, and to discover the hidden treasures that lie waiting to be found in the uncharted territories of life. Solnit encourages us to embrace the unknown, to start walking, and to get lost, because who knows what we might find?
