The past, the land of wistfulness, and the future, the place of yearning, seemed to evaporate. Knight simply existed, for the most part, in the perpetual now.
On a scenic Kennebec county, Maine lake no less! Sounds enviable, until you think of doing it for twenty-seven years—in a makeshift shelter, without fire, through long dark winters with average snowfalls of 72” and temps dipping to -25o F. That’s what happens when you drop off the radar without no plan and no wish to ever be found. Your provisions run out, and then what? You steal, of course, from the surrounding cabins. That’s 1,000 heart-thumping, shame-faced burglaries.
Christopher Knight had a decent job and loving family when he slipped out of sight at age twenty-one, but this outlaw life of self-imposed hardship was the only escape he could envision from the uncomfortable world of modern society. Noise harms your body and boils your brain, writes Michael Finkel in his 2017 best-seller (Knopf 191 pg. or 6 hours 20 minutes on Audible). The word “noise” is derived from the Latin word for “nausea”. It was no spiritual quest or a philosophical statement on Christopher Knight’s part that drove him into the woods, but simple alienation. Some people aren’t hard-wired for socialization.
This nonfiction offers a detailed examination of desperate genius and a sympathetic portrait of a tortured soul. For a succinct and entertaining summary of the North Pond Hermit’s story, complete with biographical ballad, watch this 5 ½ minute New York Times human-interest story .