This weekend a big parcel of books arrived for me from the UK, so I got the chance to get some more reading in. They were surprises to me - it being a good three weeks since I ordered them, so I couldn't recall what I was thinking. Clearly, I wanted to read about travel. Or read about people writing about travel.
First, Do Travel Writers Go To Hell?
A little disappointing - possibly it couldn't live up to the magnificent title. When this book was released, there was something of a brouhaha about how awful it was that a writer for Lonely Planet could possibly be anything less than perfectly honest - but at least Kohnstamm was being honest about not being honest.
It's perfectly readable, and not particularly offensive (what was everyone getting angry about?) but I never felt there was either a very strong narrative hook, or "High Adventures, Questionable Ethics and Professional Hedonism"; but then I'm English; to us, living with a prostitute, trying to sell drugs and getting lost in a desert are all pretty quotidien activities.
Then
The blurb suggests that Thompson is the new Chuck Klostermann. Well, I love Sex Drugs And Cocoa Puffs, so I had high hopes for this, and it does have some good parts. At the same time, it's lacking some bite - I was gladdened that Thompson really does set out his stall about what's wrong with travel journalism, and how it should be fixed, but it all felt a little episodic and lacking in depth. Perhaps it's good that I came away wanting more, but at the same time some of the chapters (especially his time in Japan) went on a bit too long without having anything strong to say. So a curate's egg, perhaps - maybe it should have been twice the length, maybe it should have been a 6 page article in Travelocity magazine, maybe I should read books slower.
Sunday, 27 September 2009
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