Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Speech: Cycling Home from Siberia by Rob Lilwall

Cycling Home from Siberia by Rob Lilwall (Lilwall's site)

I was recently in a small bookstore in the Landmark Center in Hong Kong waiting for Queenie and I saw this book quite by accident. We needed to rush off for another appointment but that night, in the hotel, I thought a lot about the book. The next day I went back and bought it and I am REALLY looking forward to reading it. I am sure it will be in the tradition of great travel books like Who Needs a Road and The Great Railway Bazaar. When I saw this book I immediately thought of my friends Simon and Helen who went for a very long cycling journey accross America and Europe way back in 2002. This book I am sure truly encapsulates the spirit of adventure and seems to embody a naive and honest belief in the goodness of people. I am really happy I went back to buy the book.

On this book the Guardian writes:

The man starts with a confession: he's a Christian - and later confirms he prefers to stay with priests or nuns. I almost gave up there, but the honesty makes for compulsive reading: he farts on Russian live radio and gets the giggles, he camps in disabled toilets in Japan - and observes that they are cleaner and more comfortable than Russian hotels. When he is mugged at gunpoint, he has violent revenge fantasies, then feels guilty and prays for his attackers.

His disarming, open-faced bravura gets better and better as the book progresses. In Papua New Guinea, a place he decides to cycle around, he is chased by drunken men brandishing cudgels. Afterwards he wonders if perhaps he had pre-judged them and they were only being friendly.

The speech is pretty funny and he is very engaging. Its on the lighter side and this might be the next book I read. My wife is reading it now. Enjoy!

Buy from Amazon @ Cycling Home from Siberia: 30,000 miles, 3 years, 1 bicycle

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

On a Chinese Screen - Maugham

On a Chinese Screen by Somerset Maugham - 5/5

In "On a Chinese Screen" Maugham has written 58 beautiful yet astute caricatures of people he met and places he visited during his journey up the Yangtze River in 1919/20. Each small tale is a perceptive observation about a time of day, a person's character, a place or an event. Maugham's writing is eloquent and beautiful. He doesn't waste words. "For", according to Maugham, "in writing the important thing is less richness of material than richness of personality." The richness and perceptiveness of Maugham shines in each story. Each sketch holds you to the end.

Maugham's most astute observations in "On a Chinese Screen" are reserved for the people he meets. For example, when talking about consular employees and their indifference to their surroundings he observes "it made little difference to them in what capital they found themselves, for they did precisely the same thing in Constantinople, Berne, Stockholm, and Peking." And after speaking to a Chinese official who was lamenting the loss of China and traditional values in the youth, and the disrepair of the temples, Maugham notes that he (Maugham) "knew all the time that he [the official] was a rascal." And of an Italian missionary who had been in China for 50 years he writes "the passion of his eyes bespoke the battles long fought out in the uttermost depths of his heart, and his soul cried out in them, vanquished and bleeding, yet triumphant, and he exulted in the unclosed wound which he offered in willing sacrifice to Almighty God." Brilliant!

Maugham writes compassionately about the plight of the locals. He describes the bearers' burdens and notes that admiration for their strength and perseverance is not allowed. He writes compassionately about the foreigners who find themselves out of place and struggling to adapt. He writes with tragic sadness about the tower from which mothers throw their unwanted babies. Yes, with sadness, deep sadness. Without doubt Maugham is an astute observer of the world, of the people around him, of circumstance, of his time.

I am glad this book is available again. I first saw it in a bookstore in Taipei in 1999. At that time I didn't have money on me to buy and thought I could buy it the next day. Alas when I went back it had already been sold. I looked for it on Amazon but no copies were available and from that day forward, every time I went into a bookstore I asked them if they had a copy. In 2002 I remember asking a store in Hong Kong if they had it in stock. The assistant laughed at me saying they last had it in stock more than five years ago. I eventually found it at another store in 2004 on a brief visit to Hong Kong. It was worth the wait and I have not been disappointed. Needless to say, it never gets lent out.

If you are a lover of literature and a lover of travel then this is a must read. Very seldom are such deep perceptions captured by travel writers and very seldom do travel writers write with such depth, clarity and beauty. It's a small book, can be read in a day and can be re-read countless times. One never gets bored of the prose, of the ideas, of the thoughts, of the descriptions. One of the stories, "The Old Timer," describes the colorful life and travails of a 76 year old English Captain who had been in China for most of his life. At the end of the story Maugham writes: "The dying of the day made him think, he (the Captain) knew not why, of his long past and of his great age. He regretted nothing. `By George,' he muttered, `I've had a fine life.'" I'm sure Maugham could have said the same.

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

Soul Mountain - Gao


Soul Mountain by Gao Xingjiang -5/5

"Soul Mountain" is a panoramic mosaic of a quickly vanishing China. A nostalgic search for an inferred Mountain leads the author into a search of reality, of who he is and what has shaped his country. It's a jagged tale of startling incoherence that binds one to it until the last page. Along the road "you", "I" and "she" meet interesting people and examine interesting themes, which consistently diverge from one another. It starts with "you" in a dirty bus stop and ends with "I" comprehending and understanding nothing. A truly fascinating tale of humanity and the forces that shape people and their times, a worthy winner of the Nobel and a wonderful read for the brave at heart.

The novel is a nostalgic monument to ancient themes in a modern time. He paints verbal pictures of ancient traditions and places that rest on the mind and leave a warm, comforting feeling within the depths of the reader. His portrayal of ancient and unforgotten traditions and practices that survived the cultural revolution resonate through the mind and leave a trace of envy and a sense of "I wish I could see it too" attitude. It's a novel in which the author tries not to forget his roots nor from where he came but also tries to grasp reality and the meaning of life, love and theology.

Gao takes on the task of examining reality leaving the reader unsure of what is and isn't real. The author asserts that "it is impossible to disentangle imagination from experience" and elsewhere asks "where is the boundary between memory and wishful thinking? How can the two be separated? Which of the two is more real and how can this be determined?" Even the main characters in the plot are not real but mere reflections of each other "you" is the reflection "I" created, and "she" was created by "you" and "he" is the back of "you".

Other expressions of reality are found throughout the narrative. The author talks about "reality existing through experience" and emphasizes "personal experience" but then infers that "reality cannot be verified and does not need to be." The author makes a startling conclusion that "reality is myself, and that reality is the perception of this instant and it can't be related to another person." In the end any reality that is portrayed is "distorted" since the author "had been unable to portray real life." The reader is never sure where they are or what is true or false yet certain that they are hearing something.

But the novel, as I assume the author did, loses love. "She" says "love is an illusion which people conjure up to delude themselves. You don't believe in the existence of something called love; it is either the man possessing the woman or the woman possessing the man."

A novel of such magnitude cannot leave out an examination of religion and God. "Soul Mountain" attempts to trace religion from the "a vestige of early human civilization; the worship of fire" through to the authors conclusion when "I" sees a "small green frog" and "knows this is God." But "I" honestly admits that he doesn't "know if God, and the Devil in fact exist but both were invoked by you who are the embodiment of both my good fortune and my misfortune." Gao admits later on (in reference to folk songs) that "what should be revered isn't revered and instead all sorts of things are worshipped."

In this examination of faith he confronts the reality that the Chinese "government doesn't allow of superstitious practices." In spite of these inhibitions he takes his reader into the realm of ancient religious traditions that are still invisible to the western eye.

This is a monumental search for the self, humanity, history, culture and identity. It is cast against the morass of the vast expanse of China. Eventually "the act of searching itself turns into a sort of goal, and the object of the search is irrelevant" and the "true traveler is without goal, it is the absence of goals which creates the ultimate traveler." Gao is the ultimate traveler but I am left to think that Gao's own search has led him to the vacuous belief that "life is joyous, death is joyous, it is nothing more than your memories." If this is what life is, then I too would "wail" with Gao and (in the words of the author) it would be the "wail of accumulated sadness being released."

Buy from Amazon @ Soul Mountain