“Had it not been for the sage hens, he would have died in a matter of days. He clubbed or stoned a couple of birds every day and drank their blood. It made him even thirstier but kept him strong.” (p. 53). Coffee House Press. Kindle Edition.
Håkan Söderström, born in Sweden, was sent to America as a child in the 1850s. He was supposed to travel to New York with his brother Linus, but they were separated before leaving Europe. Håkan ends up landing in San Francisco with no money. He cannot speak English. He has no concept of geography and naively sets out to walk across America to meet up with his brother, whom he assumes made it to NY. Trying to reunite with his brother is Håkan’s unrealistic vision throughout the story. As he participates in incredible adventures in America, he is continually reminded of the tall tales his brother told him. He survives by hunting and foraging during his dangerous trek across the desert, prairie, wilderness, and other terrains. He meets several people along the way and learns about good and evil and other traits of the human being. He witnesses firsthand the violence typical during westward expansion and realizes that few people can be trusted. Since he is a large and strong man, he is used by the first family he meets to do heavy work and then abandoned after an accident. He is captured as a slave, and when he finally escapes, he witnesses murders and other brutality as he meets native peoples and others who are traveling in the opposite direction.
The protagonist absorbs much about science, medicine, and humanity when he meets Lorimer, a naturalist who collects animal specimens and teaches Håkan about the intricacies and connectedness of living things in a Darwinesque fashion. With his focus on science and nature, Lorimer illustrates basic respect for humanity, and Håkan finds it part of his soul to follow his lead. Their mutual and admiral respect for life is demonstrated when they are willing to attend to the injuries of “Indians” after being attacked by white men. Håkan gleans much about life and death and how to exist according to nature’s laws from the natives. He is amazed at how they view death as part of the life cycle and are comfortable leaving dead bodies for the animals to feast rather than feeling a need to bury them.
Håkan then becomes a bodyguard for Jarvis, a shyster who sells people land he may not have. After some bloody murders, Håkan travels alone for an extended period and eventually meets Asa, someone he can call a friend. There is more killing, and then Håkan spends years on his own before he is on his way to Alaska, as we know from the story’s beginning.
The story’s themes are many, but loneliness, murder, and violence kept reverberating in my mind as I read and reflected. The tenacity of the human spirit is another theme conveyed through Håkan. However, European settlers’ savagery in the 19th century was prevalent. I also wondered a great deal about folklore that has been intertwined with American history as taught in modern America.
Diaz uses interesting symbols in the story. I was particularly impressed with the symbolic mirror. Håkan doesn’t see one very often while traveling, but when he does, he is surprised by his image, and it leads to self-reflection. The two people who Håkan trusts, Lorimer and Asa, are reflective, but many of the other characters are impulsive and reckless. The mirror is powerful in representing the lack of reflection upon actions and the refusal of so many to recognize their role in incivilities. Håkan was known as the “Hawk,” and the hawk, with its hunting prowess, is a symbol in this book along with other birds and wildlife mentioned to enhance the theme of migrations, seasons, and growth. The land serves as a powerful force to determine survival or destruction, depending on which characters were highlighted.
Other literary devices to consider were the cross and the sheriff. There is a disturbing scene where a sheriff stitches a cross into a captured person’s chest to bring Jesus back to his heart. It reminded me of the biblical passages where the officials of the land mocked Jesus. In this book, the sheriff is a stereotypical “bad guy,” and his presence is startlingly similar to some of today’s widely publicized police stories. Additionally, Håkan is described as Christlike. When one considers his indomitable gentle spirit, his desire to heal others, and his larger-than-life appearance, one wonders whether Diaz wanted the reader to see him as a Jesus figure. He certainly had an affinity for silence and solace, walked among the poor, and was widely misunderstood.
Hernan Diaz wrote In the Distance pre-pandemic and before the events of 2020. He has indicated that he researched westward expansion and immigration to write this book, and he has been lauded for writing from the immigrant’s point of view. It was no accident that this book was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2018; it is truly a timeless tale. Diaz was prescient in writing a historical novel that reflects not only 21st-century immigration issues but also the 2020-21 pandemic isolation. Perhaps readers in 2017 could not identify with the main character’s extreme loneliness in this narrative, but readers in 2020 and later will have no difficulty empathizing with digging a hole and burrowing away from the rest of society. Diaz certainly understands that history repeats itself.
Many of the issues that Håkan faced mid 19th century in a developing country are still issues in the 21st century. That seems to be the author’s purpose in writing. His integration of Darwinism into the story and Håkan’s fascination with its principles is timely for the story’s setting and for us to examine today. Have we Americans really evolved over the last 170 years? Sure, roads and transportation have improved since the time of this novel. Technology and medicine have improved drastically. However, have attitudes toward those who are different evolved? Are immigrants still belittled and treated as though they are ignorant because they don’t know the language? Do the privileged still expect marginalized members of society to complete tasks with their hands and ignore their minds? People whom Hakan encountered struggled to pronounce his name. Are we still doing that in 2021? Do we have a vice president whose name is purposely mispronounced because she is different and represents the “other”? How unfinished is our nation?
