I just finished watching Man on Wire, a documentary about Philippe Petit, the French high wire artist who broke into the World Trade Center and tightrope walked between the two towers for 45 minutes. It's a beautiful and well-made film that really put me into the mind of Petit and his accomplices.
Immediately after removing Man on Wire from the DVD player, I put another documentary in: Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man, about Timothy Treadwell, whose passion for grizzly bears and seasonal trips to Alaska ultimately led to his being killed and eaten by grizzlies. I'm only five minutes into the movie I'm already annoyed with Treadwell. He comes across as reckless and foolhardy. Having such a complete turnaround made me feel bad...but am I wrong?
It got me wondering: When is a passion worthwhile? When is it worth chasing a dream even if it kills you? Ever?
I can think of a few notable examples: Steve Irwin, the croc hunter; Dian Fossey (in Gorillas in the Mist); and Chris McCandless (Into the Wild). What makes them all similar is that, with the exception of Dian Fossey, none of them were engaged in a cause when they died (Petit is still alive, by the way.)
Most people can understand the concept of dying for a cause--like a war or a profession (e.g. firefighting). But if someone dies doing something most of us consider a hobby or an interest...are they an artist or just an idiot? Was their death meaningless?
At least they had passion. No one can deny that. But is that all they had?
7 years ago
1 comments:
I think if I am going to die due to pursuing a passion, death by chocolate would be the way to go. My mom always says she wants to die skiing off the alps. I guess that wouldn't be too bad either. A responsible way to die? Not necessarily, but certainly more fun.
Post a Comment