Take, for example, Hell or High Water. Picked it up for the rip-roar-white-water adventure and then the guy had to go and make me THINK! How dare he. I mean, sure, I expect the odd reference to Scylla and Charybdis (p. 132) and then to Leda (p. 176), specifically, a (really freaking disturbing) poem by Yeats. But then, he has the following:
Modern-day adventurers do much of what they do in creation of story. The tales pour out at the fire; they are savored and added to. One man's episode becomes part of another's repertoire, and the stories multiply and intertwine. It seemed like a wonderful, archaic way to love. Who lives like that anymore? Hollywood subsumes more and more of that part our consciousness and lures us into the grey smog of routine, of consuming and producing, of a mass-produced narrative. We need adventurers to create new and vibrant stories. It's the blood of our humanity...
He died to save us from a humdrum life... (p. 187-188)