Feral

It is sometimes unfair to compare one book to another while reviewing one of those books. But, this book almost demands it. From the title alone, I should have known this was going to be Pennington's attempt to write her own version of Cheryl Strayed's [b:Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail 12262741 Wild From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail Cheryl Strayed https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1453189881l/12262741.SY75.jpg 17237712]. First, the title. The word “feral” is simply a synonym of “wild.” Second, the subtitles. Strayed: “From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail.” Pennington: “Losing Myself and Finding My Way in America's National Parks.” Third, Pennington writes that she “memorized nearly every page of Cheryl Strayed's Wild[....]” In this case, it seems reasonable to discuss both books.Both books start with a prologue that is the mid-point and nadir of their respective stories. Strayed losing her hiking boots over 50 miles away from her next opportunity to get new ones. Pennington breaks up with her boyfriend at a picnic bench in a small town in Alaska.As the stories progress, we are shown two very different realities. Strayed knows nothing about surviving in the wilderness, and yet chooses to spend an uninterrupted three months with only what she can carry on her back, away from roads and people and civilization, being mostly alone and trying to survive despite her ignorance. Pennington is an experienced outdoors person spending most of her time driving, frequently returning to her home, and meeting up with friends along the way. Strayed is inexperienced and alone in a tent in the middle of nowhere. Pennington is experienced and frequently with other people, staying at truck stops and motels in small town America. For Strayed, it was about literal survival. For Pennington, it's about discomfort. The stakes just never felt high enough.But, the biggest difference is the progression of the stories. Strayed gets better at being in the wilderness. The structure of the story brings the reader through to share her redemption. Pennington doesn't change. In the final paragraphs, she simply tells us that the trip changed her. But she never actually showed that she was changing throughout the course of the book.Finally, I just didn't care for Pennington's writing. So many similes. So many metaphors. So many adjectives. I understand it's partly a book about the majesty of the natural world, but Pennington tends to throw things at the wall and see what sticks. Some of her flowery prose works, but most of it doesn't, and just seems to be the writer trying to show off.