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Michio Hoshino's Solitary Pilgrimage
Michio Hoshino's Solitary Pilgrimage
旅行之木与星野道夫
旅行之木与星野道夫
I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, who’s in heaven now, ever regret it?
I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, who’s in heaven now, ever regret it?
I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, who’s in heaven now, ever regret it?
I often start reading a book without knowing its fame or the name of the author—If you knew how I go about finding books, you would probably think it’s very hasty—I guess I never consider famous names as my reading target. What I love is reading itself. I enjoy the beauty of words, the drama of stories, and the unique experience of seeing the world through the “eyes” of the author. So, if it’s good writing, if it’s a captivating story, I will read it anyway.
I was once intrigued by the phrase “A Solitary Pilgrimage,” only to later discover it was the (Chinese edition) title of a bestselling book. And now, once again, I opened “The Travel of Michio Hoshino” simply to read a book about travel, but ended up accidentally stumbling upon the brief yet brilliant life of Michio Hoshino.
When I first started reading “The Travel of Michio Hoshino,” I didn’t know who Michio Hoshino was, nor did I care. I was simply captivated by his youthful exuberance and the various adventures he described in Alaska. Back then, he travelled thousands of miles to Alaska and almost got rejected by a local university because he lacked 30 points in his English score. When he confronted the professor he had contacted several times before, confidently stating how he couldn’t possibly be turned away for just “30 measly points,” I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head at his recklessness and arrogance. But surprisingly, he was indeed accepted, granted admission against the odds. Perhaps, it’s another classic American-style “dream come true” story.
I admire the magnificent prose that resembles nature itself, as well as the vivid portrayal of the northern lands in his eyes. As I read, I can’t help but think that his life is truly extraordinary. It’s not about mundane matters like food and shelter, nor is it about climbing the social ladder or accumulating wealth and fame. His life seamlessly merges with nature, making me forget for a moment that humans have never ceased to exploit nature, wearing the crown of “plunder.” It’s fascinating to realize that humans can also harmonize with nature in such a way.
As I reached the halfway point of the book, I started feeling like I should seek out more of his works, but then it struck me that his books were all from a distant era. I pondered why there were no recent works. So, I went online to search for his biography. And then… I discovered he was a highly acclaimed Japanese nature photographer and writer. And… his life came to a sudden end in 1996—my heart trembled slightly at that realization.
Michio Hoshino’s death came tragically during a photography expedition in the wilderness of the Kamchatka Peninsula, where he was attacked by a brown bear. Nature, which he dearly loved, mercilessly and unexpectedly took back his youthful life at the age of just 43… Is that how it all ends? How could this happen? Suddenly, I found myself at a loss for words. Suddenly, reading his words makes me feel like a form of mourning.
Amid my lamentation, I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, who’s in heaven now, ever regret it? Did he regret pursuing such a high-risk profession, hastening his own demise? – Surely not. I heard a strong and resolute voice answering, but I don’t know whose voice it was, nor do I understand why he or she was so certain.
I often start reading a book without knowing its fame or the name of the author—If you knew how I go about finding books, you would probably think it’s very hasty—I guess I never consider famous names as my reading target. What I love is reading itself. I enjoy the beauty of words, the drama of stories, and the unique experience of seeing the world through the “eyes” of the author. So, if it’s good writing, if it’s a captivating story, I will read it anyway.
I was once intrigued by the phrase “A Solitary Pilgrimage,” only to later discover it was the (Chinese edition) title of a bestselling book. And now, once again, I opened “The Travel of Michio Hoshino” simply to read a book about travel, but ended up accidentally stumbling upon the brief yet brilliant life of Michio Hoshino.
When I first started reading “The Travel of Michio Hoshino,” I didn’t know who Michio Hoshino was, nor did I care. I was simply captivated by his youthful exuberance and the various adventures he described in Alaska. Back then, he travelled thousands of miles to Alaska and almost got rejected by a local university because he lacked 30 points in his English score. When he confronted the professor he had contacted several times before, confidently stating how he couldn’t possibly be turned away for just “30 measly points,” I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head at his recklessness and arrogance. But surprisingly, he was indeed accepted, granted admission against the odds. Perhaps, it’s another classic American-style “dream come true” story.
I admire the magnificent prose that resembles nature itself, as well as the vivid portrayal of the northern lands in his eyes. As I read, I can’t help but think that his life is truly extraordinary. It’s not about mundane matters like food and shelter, nor is it about climbing the social ladder or accumulating wealth and fame. His life seamlessly merges with nature, making me forget for a moment that humans have never ceased to exploit nature, wearing the crown of “plunder.” It’s fascinating to realize that humans can also harmonize with nature in such a way.
As I reached the halfway point of the book, I started feeling like I should seek out more of his works, but then it struck me that his books were all from a distant era. I pondered why there were no recent works. So, I went online to search for his biography. And then… I discovered he was a highly acclaimed Japanese nature photographer and writer. And… his life came to a sudden end in 1996—my heart trembled slightly at that realization.
Michio Hoshino’s death came tragically during a photography expedition in the wilderness of the Kamchatka Peninsula, where he was attacked by a brown bear. Nature, which he dearly loved, mercilessly and unexpectedly took back his youthful life at the age of just 43… Is that how it all ends? How could this happen? Suddenly, I found myself at a loss for words. Suddenly, reading his words makes me feel like a form of mourning.
Amid my lamentation, I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, who’s in heaven now, ever regret it? Did he regret pursuing such a high-risk profession, hastening his own demise? – Surely not. I heard a strong and resolute voice answering, but I don’t know whose voice it was, nor do I understand why he or she was so certain.
I often start reading a book without knowing its fame or the name of the author—If you knew how I go about finding books, you would probably think it’s very hasty—I guess I never consider famous names as my reading target. What I love is reading itself. I enjoy the beauty of words, the drama of stories, and the unique experience of seeing the world through the “eyes” of the author. So, if it’s good writing, if it’s a captivating story, I will read it anyway.
I was once intrigued by the phrase “A Solitary Pilgrimage,” only to later discover it was the (Chinese edition) title of a bestselling book. And now, once again, I opened “The Travel of Michio Hoshino” simply to read a book about travel, but ended up accidentally stumbling upon the brief yet brilliant life of Michio Hoshino.
When I first started reading “The Travel of Michio Hoshino,” I didn’t know who Michio Hoshino was, nor did I care. I was simply captivated by his youthful exuberance and the various adventures he described in Alaska. Back then, he travelled thousands of miles to Alaska and almost got rejected by a local university because he lacked 30 points in his English score. When he confronted the professor he had contacted several times before, confidently stating how he couldn’t possibly be turned away for just “30 measly points,” I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head at his recklessness and arrogance. But surprisingly, he was indeed accepted, granted admission against the odds. Perhaps, it’s another classic American-style “dream come true” story.
I admire the magnificent prose that resembles nature itself, as well as the vivid portrayal of the northern lands in his eyes. As I read, I can’t help but think that his life is truly extraordinary. It’s not about mundane matters like food and shelter, nor is it about climbing the social ladder or accumulating wealth and fame. His life seamlessly merges with nature, making me forget for a moment that humans have never ceased to exploit nature, wearing the crown of “plunder.” It’s fascinating to realize that humans can also harmonize with nature in such a way.
As I reached the halfway point of the book, I started feeling like I should seek out more of his works, but then it struck me that his books were all from a distant era. I pondered why there were no recent works. So, I went online to search for his biography. And then… I discovered he was a highly acclaimed Japanese nature photographer and writer. And… his life came to a sudden end in 1996—my heart trembled slightly at that realization.
Michio Hoshino’s death came tragically during a photography expedition in the wilderness of the Kamchatka Peninsula, where he was attacked by a brown bear. Nature, which he dearly loved, mercilessly and unexpectedly took back his youthful life at the age of just 43… Is that how it all ends? How could this happen? Suddenly, I found myself at a loss for words. Suddenly, reading his words makes me feel like a form of mourning.
Amid my lamentation, I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, who’s in heaven now, ever regret it? Did he regret pursuing such a high-risk profession, hastening his own demise? – Surely not. I heard a strong and resolute voice answering, but I don’t know whose voice it was, nor do I understand why he or she was so certain.