Chris McCandless was a 24-year-old college grad from an affluent family when he cut ties with everyone he knew and spent two years roaming the country. He gave away his trust fund, burned the rest of his cash, and lived as a self-described  tramp before trekking into the wilderness of Alaska. About 100 days later, in the fall of 1992, he was found starved to death in an abandoned bus.

Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer, is the fascinating story of Chris’ fatal quest to find the simple beauty in life. As he did with his nonfiction books Into Thin Air (about climbing and dying on Mount Everest) and Under the Banner of Heaven (about the deadly extremes of Mormon fundamentalism), the author crafts a factual, yet engaging, narrative. His work often reads more like a story than a nonfiction book. For Into the Wild, Krakauer dove into research and tracked down sources across the country to create a multi-layered portrait of his subject. He brought in historical context of other people who have communed with or disappeared in nature while trying to “find themselves.”  He also described his own experiences as an outdoor adventurer to try to understand why Chris would abandon his family and a potentially secure future. He explored whether Chris was an arrogant idiot who was unprepared for the wilderness, a noble soul looking for a pure life, or a troubled escapee running from a dysfunctional family.

When I first finished the book, published in 1996, I wasn’t sure which I thought Chris was. Krakauer hinted at some troubles in Chris’ childhood, the worst being the two wives and families that his father kept simultaneously, and his parents’ obsession with materialism. But I wasn’t sure that was reason enough to justify the break that Chris made from his family and friends. I wasn’t sure until I read The Wild Truth, the 2014 book written by Chris’ sister, which gives more insight into their terrible childhood. Now I have a better understanding of what Chris was trying to leave behind.

In The Wild Truth, Carine McCandless describes the physical and emotional abuse that she and her older brother, Chris, endured growing up: the brutal fights, the endless manipulations, parents who seemed to care more about appearances than reality, confusion over their father’s two families. In some ways, this memoir of survival and recovery reminded me of A Child Called It or The Glass Castle. Writing it helped Carine deal with a lot of her own issues and also explained in more detail why her brother took off. It was his journey of healing, a way to shake off the scars of his upbringing and find peace and truth.

What I found most fascinating about Carine’s book, however, was the glimpse that it gave us into how journalists tell stories. Krakauer wrote Into the Wild twenty years earlier with a lot of help from Carine. But though she shared her family’s dark secrets with Jon at that time, she asked him not to put them in his book. She said she was trying to protect her parents in the hope of salvaging their relationship. Perhaps it is the former journalist in me, but the whole time I read Carine’s book, I wondered how Jon could write nonfiction about Chris but not include it. I understand he was respecting a source’s wishes, and that happens a lot. But what a challenge he must have faced, only being able to hint at the troubled family life that likely drove Chris on his journey. Ethically, did Krakauer do the right thing? I’m not sure. Carine said she wrote this book to set the record straight – many people thought Chris an arrogant fool for dying in the wild. This book did that for me, but also left me wanting a memoir from Krakauer about his life as an adventurer and writer.

Hanover High’s production of The Sound of Music kicked off Friday night with a sold-out audience and fantastic performance. After seeing Romeo and Juliet earlier this year I was well aware that Mr. Plummer was an effective directer as well as a drama teacher, but he really out did himself this time. The costumes were amazing and very true to the movie (can you say play-clothes made of curtains?!), and senior Mary McWilliams did an amazing job as the hair and make-up extraordinaire. The sets were also very well done and allowed for a quick transition from one scene to the next…not to mention a few musical numbers that took place on the stairs.

The production began in the abbey, where the nuns sang in their angelic voices as they gathered for prayers. Madison Fitzpatrick led as the Mother Abbess singing in her beautiful operatic soprano, and her reverend posse included Katie Scott as Sister Berthe, Hannah Kirby as Sister Margaretta, and Kayla Maslow as Sister Sophia. These ladies nailed their performance of the song Maria, and as one of my favorite scenes in the movie, I knew that I was in for a treat.  Then we finally meet Maria, but let me tell you, it was definitely worth the wait. Hayley Ardizzoni was the center that this musical revolved around and she played her part like and absolute professional. Not only her vox-trained pipes but also her facial expressions and general aura contributed to making her the perfect person for this role. After her introductory solo The Sound of Music, Maria is told by the Mother Abbess that she is basically much to happy to live in the Abbey, and has even been caught singing in the gardens (oh, the horror). Instead, she will become the new governess for Captain von Trapp’s brood of seven children, a number she didn’t look too psyched about.

Despite being the cause for tears of many a governess, the von Trapp children were an immediate success from the second that they marched in when the audience broke into laughter. Maria sassily lets the Captain, played by senior Zach McAurthur, know that she, or the children for that matter, will not be summoned by a whistle, and once he has left she begins breaking the rules once again when it comes to singing. I suppose this is alright when you have a voice like Hayley’s, however, and soon she has the children in a rousing chorus of Do-Re-Mi. In the following scene on the infamous terrace, we learn a few important things: Macy Hohenleitner (who plays Liesl) would probably win best supporting role if we were at the Oscars, Brennan Taylor makes a mean Rolf and has the voice to match, and Ms. Bossong could quit her job at any time and become a successful choreographer. All is going well for the family, the children are getting over their fear if lightning storms with the help of sing-a longs in Maria’s bed, they are getting to play outside wearing curtains, when the Captain returns with his new lady, Elsa. Lindsey Glover became this role, with her slightly upturned nose and stick-straight posture, she played Elsa even better than I could have imagined. The kids like Elsa, but they like Maria more, although not as much as Captain von Trapp. Things get pretty heated when the two dance at a party, and the children’s perfect rendition of So long, Farewell has a double meaning as Maria boots it back to the Abbey to escape her feelings for the Captain.

Act two begins with Max, a friend of Georg von Trapp’s, trying to coax a Do-Re-Me out of the now depressed children. Max, played by senior Thomas O’Connor,  was one of my favorite characters with his bravado personality, quick come-backs for everything, and even perfect German mustache. The kids are overjoyed when Maria comes back and they celebrate by (can you guess?) singing My Favorite Things. The situation gets even better when Elsa and Georg (who has a pretty amazing voice himself) sing Ordinary Couple, a song I had never heard before but really enjoyed, and realize they are not an ordinary couple because they are both so stinking rich. Elsa hands over her engagement ring which soon finds a new place on Maria’s finger. Sadly, their honeymoon comes to a disastrous end upon their arrival back home, when Nazis Mike Nimeskern and Stephen Pallotta  demand Georg immediately report for duty at the army base. Thankfully, Max has entered the family in a singing festival, where they preform some of their greatest hits. Zach McArthur knocks Edelweiss out of the park, and the performance of So Long, Farewell is even better than the first time (it that’s even possible). After the festival, the family escapes to the Abbey and then on to Switzerland. The musical ends with Maddie Fitzpatrick working her magic with the the song Climb Every Mountain…she even hit The Note.

Just watching this production I could see how much time and effort had gone into it from all aspects of production. The efforts did not go to waste, for the rest of the audience shared my opinion and when the cast took their bows not a single person in the house was sitting. Of course, none of this would have been possible without the musicians who played perfectly the entire night. I can’t even imagine learning to play one song so well, let alone keep it up for hours! Congratulations to anyone involved with the play, you earned yourselves and A+ in my book.

The Kite Runner, written by Khaled Hosseini in 2003, is not a new book, but it’s one that I’m embarrassed to say I hadn’t gotten around to reading until now. Once I started it, though, I couldn’t put it down.

The book follows Amir, who grew up the privileged son of a successful businessman in the relatively peaceful time before the monarchy was overthrown in 1973. The ethnic and religious discrimination that tears apart the country today was strong even then, but Amir was spared. The servant boy who worked in his home, Hassan, was not. While Hassan and his father were treated like family in Amir’s home, they were mistreated in the wider community. This was a challenge for Amir, who grew up with and played daily with Hassan; their friendship was hindered by society’s expectations. When the boys are 12, a tragic incident drives a wedge in their relationship and forces Hassan and his father to leave Amir’s home. Amir is wracked with guilt for the rest of his life, through his family’s escape when the Soviets invade Afghanistan in 1979 and his adulthood in America.

Many years later, a family friend still in Afghanistan contacts Amir, now a married man and published author. That phone call forces Amir to return to modern day, war-torn Afghanistan. He must face the devastation of his childhood homeland and, if he has the courage, right the wrong he committed against Hassan.

The glimpse into the culture and history of Afghanistan was eye-opening, revealing the history and consequences of deeply rooted differences that still divide the country. The book widened my understanding of and empathy for the generation that grew up after Amir, the children who never knew life without gunfire, bombs and war. It helped me understand that no matter how long our soldiers are in the country trying to rebuild it and keep peace, the fighting and intolerance have been around longer. Those differences are not easily overcome.

But even without that historical element, the story of friendship, betrayal, courage and redemption was riveting. Amir is the main character and tells the story, and while he is not always likeable, he is very realistic. He has the petty jealousies of a child, the yearning for his father’s approval, and the cowardice of not speaking up for himself and his friend Hassan. He struggles with the transition to America and with coming to terms with his past.

The story gets its name, The Kite Runner, from the person who outruns all of his competitors to retrieve the last and most valued kite knocked out of the annual kite fighting competition. With kite strings coated in glass, the contest is painful but the winners are granted highest honors. Hassan was Amir’s kite runner, willing to do anything for the person he considered more his friend than master. As a child, Amir could not return that loyalty. To find out if he can as an adult, you have to read the book.

While the book is often heartbreaking, it ends on a hopeful note. I recommend this to anyone interested in historical fiction and global issues. I also think anyone who likes a good story about friendship, betrayal and redemption will also enjoy it. It’s 371 pages and can be a little slow at the beginning, but it’s worth sticking with it.