Scan barcode
A review by erine
Major Impossible: A Grand Canyon Tale by Nathan Hale
4.0
I started watching Godless last week, and was struck by Frank Griffin’s story of his family being massacred by what sounded like Mormons. Imagine my surprise when I reached page 118 of Major Impossible which describes the hypothesized fate of a few members of the expedition. The highlight was a mention of the Mountain Meadows Massacre of 1857, in which Mormons slaughtered over 100 people in a westward bound wagon train. The Mormons were “prickly,” indeed, and I have realized I am largely ignorant of Mormon history, how it influenced westward movement, and the way that they used local Native tribes as scapegoats for their violence.
The story bounces back and forth between John Wesley Powell’s childhood (up to and including his involvement in the Civil War) and his Colorado River Expedition that began in 1869. Powell’s childhood was an endless quest for scientific education combined with harassment due to his preacher father’s anti slavery sentiments. He struggled mightily for education and got it, but before he struck out as an adult or could marry his love, the Civil War began and Powell was off learning Military Science the same way he learned everything else: with extreme drive. This back-and-forth, combined with the narrative interludes, created a kind of reader whiplash.
The river expedition was an ultimate survival challenge, but Hale conveys the beauty and wildness and adventure so well. I found out why in the afterward, when it’s revealed that Hale floated through the Grand Canyon several times himself to get the artwork right. There were rapids and waterfalls, portages and food shortages. Loss of clothing and paddles and people. But the spirit of exploration shines through, and there is no nonsense about the white men “discovering” these places: it’s clear that they were not the first people to witness these wonders, just the first white men to map them.
The Civil War chapters were gritty. Powell is shot in the arm and must have it amputated. I just happened to have the book open to page 82 when my eight year old walked by and said, “what is that!?” Well, it was a detailed, step-by-step depiction of a nineteenth century amputation, complete with bone, bone saw, skin flap and stitches. It led to a rather graphic discussion. Later I got to the part where Powell’s brother goes mad in a POW camp after spending many months or maybe years starving and deprived. It was a rough tale, and I get why it was broken up with the gorgeous river and canyon bits, although by and large, the whole thing was i.n.t.e.n.s.e.
In the end, I wanted to know what happened to Powell’s wife, who got married and then vanished from the story completely.
The story bounces back and forth between John Wesley Powell’s childhood (up to and including his involvement in the Civil War) and his Colorado River Expedition that began in 1869. Powell’s childhood was an endless quest for scientific education combined with harassment due to his preacher father’s anti slavery sentiments. He struggled mightily for education and got it, but before he struck out as an adult or could marry his love, the Civil War began and Powell was off learning Military Science the same way he learned everything else: with extreme drive. This back-and-forth, combined with the narrative interludes, created a kind of reader whiplash.
The river expedition was an ultimate survival challenge, but Hale conveys the beauty and wildness and adventure so well. I found out why in the afterward, when it’s revealed that Hale floated through the Grand Canyon several times himself to get the artwork right. There were rapids and waterfalls, portages and food shortages. Loss of clothing and paddles and people. But the spirit of exploration shines through, and there is no nonsense about the white men “discovering” these places: it’s clear that they were not the first people to witness these wonders, just the first white men to map them.
The Civil War chapters were gritty. Powell is shot in the arm and must have it amputated. I just happened to have the book open to page 82 when my eight year old walked by and said, “what is that!?” Well, it was a detailed, step-by-step depiction of a nineteenth century amputation, complete with bone, bone saw, skin flap and stitches. It led to a rather graphic discussion. Later I got to the part where Powell’s brother goes mad in a POW camp after spending many months or maybe years starving and deprived. It was a rough tale, and I get why it was broken up with the gorgeous river and canyon bits, although by and large, the whole thing was i.n.t.e.n.s.e.
In the end, I wanted to know what happened to Powell’s wife, who got married and then vanished from the story completely.