Stella Benson, Douglas Adams and the total picture disaster

The novelist and travel writer Stella Benson, who has inspired many articles, had some good insights about herself and her life.

She may never have realised though how much she had in common with other writers. What effect would it have had on her if she had put her life into the context of the lives of certain other people? 

What further effect would it have had if she had seen exactly where she stood in relation to the entire human race?

Having one’s ideas and viewpoint expanded is not always beneficial; it can be devastating.

Stella Benson herself mentioned the danger of realising that we are nothing special, not individuals but just one of many. 
She said this in her travel book Worlds Within Worlds:

“The world would come to an end if each one of us suddenly began to see himself as one of a crowd—and that a funny crowd...We all intend to be seen as Ones, not as crowds; all our details of personality are evolved to clothe us as Ones, not as crowds.“

It may seem that Stella Benson was exaggerating when she said that the world would come to an end if people realised their personal insignificance, but she is not alone. Douglas Adams, author of the comedy science fiction series The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy so in a sense a fellow travel writer, dealt with this Issue in a way that is both amusing and alarming.

Stella Benson's diaries

I came across this quotation from L. M. Montgomery recently:

“Only lonely people keep diaries.”

She kept a diary from the age of nine, and this is where she wrote the above words. I think that they are probably true in some cases but definitely not in all.

Sometimes diaries are kept primarily for record keeping purposes, to be used for reference in the future if necessary. Isaac Asimov for example kept detailed but mainly factual diaries for much of his life.

Journalling is a possible outlet for creative people who must write. It provides a way of exercising writing skills and keeping them honed; it keeps the channel of inspiration open.

The quotation made me think of Stella Benson, who kept a diary from the age of ten until shortly before she died. It is certainly applicable to her. In Stella’s own words:

“To set down a record of my contact with people...is most necessary to me. Because my most continuous sensation is a feeling of terrifying slipping-away from people - a most devastating loneliness - I have to place on record the fact that I was human and that even I had my human adventures.”

More about Stella Benson’s travel nightmares

The novelist Stella Benson travelled the world. She saw some beautiful buildings and scenery, she gained a variety of new experiences and she met some interesting people. Travelling provided her with plenty of good material for her writing, but she paid a high price in suffering, discomfort and danger.

She turned some of her bad travel experiences into good stories and treated them lightly, presenting them in her articles as amusing and interesting adventures, evidence that she was doing something exciting with her life, rather than as the ordeals and nightmares that many of the incidents undoubtedly were.

This article contains a few more examples of her experiences and some thoughts about the issues that the accounts of her journeys raise. I wonder why she would put herself through so much; I also wonder how much of it she did in the right spirit, as opposed to just going through the motions. I wonder whether she thought that it was all worth it. 

In Stella Benson’s own words

“Nobody but a true fool tries to cross the United States in a Ford car in the middle of winter."

“Also we had another loss. Money in an inner coat pocket is safe enough in circumstances that permit a man to stand dry and upright as his Maker intended him to stand. But tip that man in and out of a Ford foundering in floods, load him with wet kit-bags, bend him like a hairpin, bereave him of hope and dignity—and where is that money at the end of the day? Where indeed is it? We had nothing now but a few dollars, which I found, sodden, in my breeches pocket.“

“Arriving that evening at a small cheerless hamlet, cold, soaked and exhausted, we were given a room full of holes, through which the draughts whistled... We were soaked, shivering, and sad.“