In both captivity narratives and “Rip
Van Winkle,” wilderness is depicted in several different ways: as a sanctuary, as a mysterious and utterly
unfamiliar place, and as a personal condition of being helpless and far from
friends.
For Rip Van Winkle, the wooded peaks
and valleys of the beautiful Kaatskill mountains are a place of refuge, the
only place where he can escape from his wife’s verbal and emotional abuse. “Poor Rip was at last reduced almost to
despair; and his only alternative to escape from the labour of the farm and the
clamour of his wife, was to take gun in hand, and stroll away into the woods”
(459). He meets a mysterious stranger
who demands his assistance, but Rip is unable to talk to him because “…there
was something strange and incomprehensible about the unknown, that inspired
awe, and checked familiarity” (460). After
his long sleep on the “wild mountain” (460), Rip makes his way back down to his
village, where he encounters a different – and profoundly disorienting – kind
of wilderness: rapid changes have
rendered his once-familiar village bewilderingly different. His dog, his wife, even his friends are
gone. You can imagine his confusion and
anxiety, and that sinking “we’re not in Kansas anymore” feeling. This terrifying aloneness is finally relieved
when an old neighbor recognizes him, and Rip’s daughter takes him home to live
a peaceful life with her family. Thus he
is rescued from the wilderness of feeling lost and alone by being included once
again in a human community.
This theme of human community helping
a person to survive the dangers of the wilderness is also present in both
captivity tales. For Alvar Nunez Cabeza
de Vaca, this doesn’t happen in the way we might expect. After he is abandoned in the wilds of North
America by the captain of his expedition, Cabeza de Vaca is treated with generosity and kindness by the
Native Americans. When he eventually
meets up again with the people of his own culture, they mistreat him and arouse
his anger by mistreating and exploiting the Native Americans. “The Avavares always treated us well. We lived as free agents, dug our own food,
and lugged our loads of wood and water” (32).
“The observing Arbadaos…took each of us by the hand and led us to their
dwellings” (33). “…the Indians were
always diligent to bring us all they could” (35). “After this we had a hot argument with them
[the Christians] for they meant to make slaves of the Indians in our train”
(35). “…the Christians had lied…we
healed the sick, they killed the sound; we came naked and barefoot, they
clothed, horsed, and lanced; we coveted nothing but gave whatever we were
given, while they robbed whomever they found and bestowed nothing on anyone”
(35).
In Mary Rowlandson’s captivity
narrative, members of her family are murdered by Native Americans, who also
burn down her house and take her “…to travel with them into the vast and
desolate wilderness” (121). During her
captivity, helpless and far from her friends, she is greatly comforted by her
religious faith (a form of human community) and by reading the Bible (the most
important – to her – repository of the sacred stories and wisdom of her
culture, another form of human community).
One cold night she is sent out of the wigwam to sleep outside, and
eventually is given shelter by an elderly Indian and his squaw, who also give
Mary some ground nuts to eat. “She gave
me also something to lay under my head, and a good fire we had; and through the
good providence of God, I had a comfortable lodging that night” (126). In her narrative, Mary is much less
effusively appreciative of this hospitality than she is of the hospitality and
emotional support she receives from members of her Christian community after
she is ransomed. “I was not before so
much hemmed in with the merciless and cruel heathen, but now as much with
pitiful, tender-hearted and compassionate Christians. In that poor, and distressed, and beggarly
condition I was received in; I was kindly entertained in several houses”
(131). Through the generosity of members
of her faith, Mary and her husband are provided with the necessities of
survival: “The Lord hath been exceeding
good to us in our low estate, in that when we had neither house nor home, nor
other necessaries, the Lord so moved the hearts of these and those towards us,
that we wanted neither food, nor raiment for ourselves or ours” (133). Whether it is by sharing food, shelter and
warmth, or providing companionship and social and emotional support, community
is an essential element of human life.
Without it, we can’t survive.
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