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J. Maarten Troost’s Lost on Planet China: The Strange and True Story of One Man’s Attempt to Understand the World’s Most Mystifying Nation, Or How He Became Comfortable Eating Live Squid
Robert Van Gulik’s Judge Dee mysteries (set in the T’ang Dynasty), especially The Chinese Bell Murders and The Chinese Maze Murders
Simon Winchester’s The River at the Center of the World: A Journey up the Yangtze and Back in Chinese Time
Jan Wong’s Beijing Confidential: A Tale of Comrades Lost and Found
Lijia Zhang’s “Socialism Is Great!”: A Worker’s Memoir of the New China
For a readable account of the Great March, which ultimately led to the victory of the Chinese Communists against the Nationalist army, take a look at Dean King’s Unbound: A True Story of War, Love, and Survival.
If you’re willing to add a little fantasy to your historical fiction, check out Guy Gavriel Kay’s most wonderful Under Heaven, which takes place during the period of China’s T’ang Dynasty from 618 to 970.You can watch my interview with Kay at www.seattlechannel.org/videos/video.asp?ID=7030813.
CLIMB EV’RY MOUNTAIN
Most of these titles could have been placed in the first section of this book, “A Is for Adventure,” but it seemed that since there are so many excellent books on mountain climbing, they deserved their own section. I do have to say, though, that of all my virtual travel moments, these were among my most emotionally draining reading experiences.
Edward Whymper, who was the first person to summit the Matterhorn, called what he did “mountain scrambling.” He tells of his success (at long last: there were several failures that preceded it) in Scrambles Amongst the Alps: In the Years 1860-69. Somehow “scrambling” brings the whole idea of ascending a mountain a little closer to the realm of possibility. Possibly.
Another book that re-creates the past in the world of mountain climbing is Early Days in the Range of Light: Encounters with Legendary Mountaineers. In it, Daniel Arnold retraces famous climbs—from 1864 to 1931—in the Sierra Nevadas. Part memoir, part biography, part nature study and adventure travel, this book is filled with an appreciation of the achievements of early climbers, whom we know about (if at all) by the mountains that bear their names.
A memoir that also explores the history of mountain climbing is former Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas’s Of Men and Mountains.
For anyone interested in the whys, whens, whos, and hows of climbing in the Himalayas, Fallen Giants: A History of Himalayan Mountaineering from the Age of Empire to the Age of Extremes by Maurice Isserman and Stewart Weaver is the book to choose. Although I didn’t find it dry reading, this is not really a book for the casual reader, but rather for someone really consumed by the topic.
Ed Viesturs, mountain climber and writer, joined forces with prolific author David Roberts to write K2: Life and Death on the World’s Most Dangerous Mountain. K2, located in the Karakoram Range of northern Pakistan, is known among climbers as “the holy grail of mountaineering,” and Viesturs and Roberts have compiled stories from six of the most intense and riveting climbing seasons in the mountain’s relatively recent history—1938, 1939, 1954, 1986, and 2008.
Another book about K2 that I thoroughly enjoyed is Jennifer Jordan’s Savage Summit: The True Stories of the First Five Women Who Climbed K2, the World’s Most Feared Mountain . It’s somewhat awe-inspiring (and more than somewhat scary) to read about the sacrifices these women made to fulfill their dreams of climbing K2.
James Salter is one of the twentieth century’s best (and probably these days, most under-read) writers. If by chance you happen to meet another Salter fan, it’s a sign that the friendship was meant to be. Although I was dazzled by the writing of both Light Years (fiction) and Burning the Days (memoir), I found his novel Solo Faces to be a fascinating character study and probably the best mountain climbing novel I’ve ever read. In it, he says: The rock is like the surface of the sea, constant yet never the same. Two climbers going over the identical route will each manage in a different way. Their reach is not the same, their confidence, their desire. Sometimes the way narrows, the holds are few, there are not choices—the mountain is inflexible in its demands—but usually one is free to climb at will.
When John Harlin III was nine years old, his good-looking, fearless father, known among the mountain climbing community as “the blond god,” died on the north face of the Eiger, one of the Swiss Alps. Breaking a promise to his mother not to follow in his father’s climbing footsteps, John realized that he had to at least attempt to conquer the mountain on which his father died. The Eiger Obsession: Facing the Mountain That Killed My Father won’t disappoint those who enjoy true adventures and climbing memoirs.
Robert Macfarlane’s Mountains of the Mind: Adventures in Reaching the Summit explores in fluid, evocative prose what motivates climbers (including the author himself) to climb a mountain—almost any mountain.
In Georgina Howell’s riveting biography, Gertrude Bell: Queen of the Desert, Shaper of Nations (mentioned in the Arabia Deserta section), there’s a pulse-pounding account of one of Bell’s ascents in the Alps.
Bree Loewen spent three years as a climbing ranger on Mount Rainier; she recounts the triumphs and tragedies in Pickets and Dead Men: Seasons on Rainier.
COMICS WITH A SENSE OF PLACE
Comics, with their blend of image and text, can create a strong sense of place. The emphasis on images gives birth to landscapes, dress, details of buildings, and a range of perspectives. The focus on text brings to life speech patterns and quick shots of brief and vivid descriptions. While the visual nature of comics demands that landscape is always part of the picture, sometimes comics become all about location, bringing a place to visual and textual life. Here are some fantastic comics that transport readers to another locale.
Much of Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic takes place in Bechdel’s family home (which she vividly details in her photo-realistic style), but the comic is also set, in part, in New York City, and Bechdel brings fine-grain detail to the skyline and streets.
From Hell, written by Alan Moore and drawn by Eddie Campbell, allows us to step into a vividly re-created world of London during the time of Jack the Ripper. Campbell’s seething streets and watery lights can easily evoke pure terror in the jittery reader.
John Porcellino divides Thoreau at Walden into four seasons so that we can see Walden Pond in a series of clear and elegant lines. The impressionistic text and images combine to evoke Thoreau’s philosophy and the landscape that helped shape it.
Greg Rucka’s two volumes of Whiteout are mysteries featuring U.S. Marshall Carrie Stetko, set in Antarctica. The illustrations are by Steve Lieber.
Joshua Neufeld introduces us to a variety of people in his splendid graphic novel, A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge. It’s viscerally moving and intellectually satisfying.
Using the medium of the graphic novel to great effect, Jason Lutes’s Berlin: City of Stones and Berlin: City of Smoke offer a history of the city in a way that’s accessible and yet mind-opening. All the benefits of a good novel are here: three-dimensional characters, a dynamic plot, and a well-drawn setting, and the pictures expand the story most satisfyingly.These two volumes were originally part of his ongoing comic book series, called, quite simply, Berlin.
Bryan Talbot’s dazzlingly brilliant Alice in Sunderland explores the connections between Sunderland, Talbot’s beloved hometown in the northeast corner of England, and another of his great loves, Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. He offers up a vivid history of the place from Roman times to the present; the accompanying illustrations include drawings, photos, and reproductions of newspaper articles, letters, and much more. Reading this was one of the richest experiences of my life.
Another author/illustrator to check out is Guy Delisle. His books include Pyongyang: A Journey in North Korea,Burma Chronicles, and Shenzhen: A Travelogue From China.
CONGO: FROM COLONIALISM TO CATASTROPHE
r /> My reading has not turned up too many native Congolese writers whose works are easily available in English. The one I found—whose writing is nicely reminiscent of Graham Greene—is Emmanuel Dongala (see below). But there are many good books available about this Central African nation whose history is bleak and violent, and whose present does not lead one to an optimistic view of its future.
Larry Devlin’s Chief of Station, Congo: Fighting the Cold War in a Hot Zone
Emmanuel Dongala’s Little Boys Come from the Stars (one of two novels on this list)
Che Guevara’s The African Dream: The Diaries of the Revolutionary War in the Congo
Pagan Kennedy’s Black Livingstone: A True Tale of Adventure in the Nineteenth-Century Congo
Daniel Liebowitz and Charles Pearson’s The Last Expedition: Stanley’s Mad Journey Through the Congo
Bryan Mealer’s All Things Must Fight to Live: Stories of War and Deliverance in Congo
Redmond O’Hanlon’s No Mercy: A Journey into the Heart of the Congo
Jeffrey Tayler’s Facing the Congo: A Modern-Day Journey into the Heart of Darkness W. T. Tyler’s The Consul’s Wife (the other novel on this list)
Vanessa Woods’s Bonobo Handshake: A Memoir of Love and Adventure in the Congo (animal lovers will really enjoy this)
CORFU
Who hasn’t dreamed of running off to some sun-drenched island? Corfu is certainly a popular destination for dreamers.
One of the best reasons for making Corfu your island destination (especially if you’re a reader) is that it’s the setting of one of the funniest books ever written: My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell. Its sequels, while maybe not up to the joyful perfection of the first book, are no slouches, either: Birds, Beasts, and Relatives and The Garden of the Gods definitely carry on the humor.
But don’t miss these other titles: while they may not have the bestiary that characterize Durrell’s books, they all have their special charms.
Lawrence Durrell (yes, Gerald’s sibling, although seemingly far less attached to animals than his brother) wrote Prospero’s Cell: A Guide to the Landscape and Manners of the Island of Corfu (a little of it fiction, a little bit of it nonfiction).
Emma Tennant’s A House in Corfu: A Family’s Sojourn in Greece and Corfu Banquet: A Memoir with Seasonal Recipes will please both homebodies and foodies.
And how could I not include Mary Stewart’s This Rough Magic? It’s the best sort of romantic suspense, the kind that only Stewart could write. And, of course, it’s set in Corfu.
CORNWALL’S CHARMS
Cornwall is at the southwestern tip of England, and for such a relatively small place it’s a treasure trove for literarily inclined readers (perhaps especially romance readers).
Daphne du Maurier set many of her gothic novels in and around Cornwall, including My Cousin Rachel and Rebecca. I’ll never forget the first lines of the former: “They used to hang men at Four Turnings in the old days. Not any more, though.” Those sentences still send a shiver up my spine.
Malcolm MacDonald’s The Carringtons of Helston is a good choice for readers who enjoy family sagas.
If what you love is a series of historical novels, you can’t do much better than Winston Graham’s Poldark series.These twelve novels are set in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.They need to be read in order, beginning with Ross Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall 1783-1787 and ending (many months of reading later, I’m sure) with Bella Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall 1818-1820.
The evocative romance novels by Rosemary Aitken that I’ve read are all set in Cornwall, many of them in the village of Penvarris, including The Silent Shore and Stormy Waters; I’d also suggest The Granite Cliffs.
The plot of Wings of Fire, the second of the Charles Todd mysteries featuring World War I-veteran Detective Ian Rutledge of Scotland Yard, has Rutledge traveling to Cornwall to investigate some suspicious deaths.
Other Cornwall-set fiction includes the delightful Harnessing Peacocks by Mary Wesley; any in Philippa Carr’s Daughters of England series—the ones I liked best (for no particular reason) are The Gossamer Cord and We’ll Meet Again, numbers 18 and 19, respectively; Penhallow, a mystery by one of my very favorite novelists, Georgette Heyer; Penmarric by Susan Howatch; Mistress of Mellyn by Victoria Holt; The Little Country by Charles de Lint (some of it set in Cornwall, anyway); and Jill Paton Walsh’s The Serpentine Cave. You might as well throw in the Arthurian saga by Mary Stewart, since many scholars believe Arthur was born in Cornwall: The Crystal Cave,The Hollow Hills,The Last Enchantment, and The Wicked Day.
As for nonfiction, Daphne du Maurier’s Vanishing Cornwall is a winsome word picture of her adopted home. It is a must-read for any visitor.
CORSICA
The Mediterranean island of Corsica is probably best known as the birthplace of Napoleon Bonaparte, but here are some selections of Corsica-centered titles that have nothing to do with Napoleon.
There’s a chapter on Corsica in Paul Theroux’s The Pillars of Hercules: A Grand Tour of the Mediterranean. Here’s how he describes the island: Corsica is famous for having its own fragrant odor—the herbaceous whiff of the maquis—lavender, honeysuckle, cyclamen, myrtle, wild mint and rosemary. . . . It smells like a barrel of potpourri, it is like holding a bar of expensive soap to your nose. The Corsican maquis is strong enough to clear your lungs and cure your cold.
Brian Bouldrey’s Honorable Bandit: A Walk Across Corsica is much more than a travel book—there are sections on his life as a gay man, his family, and all the various and sundry folks he meets as he traverses the roads of the island.
In The Rose Café: Love and War in Corsica, John Hanson Mitchell describes the six months he spent in 1962 living on the island and working in a small café. As we meet the café’s staff and its regular customers, we begin to learn—as Mitchell did—their varied experiences in World War II. Reading Mitchell’s book is a way of reminding ourselves that the past is never really forgotten, never really gone, and seldom ameliorated.
DEFINITELY DETROIT
One of the best memoirs I’ve read about growing up in Detroit is Paul Clemens’s Made in Detroit. Born in 1973, the year that Coleman Young became the first black mayor of the city, Clemens writes movingly and honestly about his experiences as a member of the ever-dwindling white minority in a rapidly collapsing city.
Loren Estleman’s Amos Walker mystery series is set in Detroit. No need to read them in order: the most recent, and probably easiest to find, is Sugartown.
Detroit native Jeffrey Eugenides has a talent for knock-your-socks-off first lines. His wonderful first novel The Virgin Suicides, set in an exclusive suburb of Detroit, opens this way: “On the morning the last Lisbon daughter took her turn at suicide—it was Mary this time, and sleeping pills, like Therese—the two paramedics arrived at the house knowing exactly where the knife drawer was, and the gas oven, and the beam in the basement from which it was possible to tie a rope.” And Middlesex, his second novel, which won the Pulitzer Prize, begins: “I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.”
In The Other Side of the River: A Story of Two Towns, a Death, and America’s Dilemma, Alex Kotlowitz explores issues of race and justice in two cities in the southwest part of Michigan: Benton Harbor and St. Joseph. Although this isn’t, of course, exactly a Detroit book, it’s such a terrific account (and I am such a Kotlowitz fan) that I had to include it here.
For anyone who grew up in Detroit, as I did, The Art Student’s War by Brad Leithauser offers a way to travel back in time to the period during and after World War II, when the city hummed with energy and importance. And Leithauser’s writing is magical.
Many of Elmore Leonard’s thrillers take place in Detroit. And with a Leonard novel you’re assured a bit of grit, a lot of snappy dialogue, and an appealing (if sometimes flawed) hero. Introduce yourself to h
is work with City Primeval: High Noon in Detroit.
Much of Philip Levine’s poetry reflects his working-class Detroit roots. The collection of his that I most enjoy is What Work Is, but you can’t go wrong with any of his collections.
Joyce Carol Oates set her National Book Award-winning novel Them in inner-city Detroit. It’s the story of the Wendall family, from the post-Depression 1930s to the race riots of 1967.
EGYPT
Egypt’s long and storied history has led to much good reading: Three especially useful and entertaining works of popular history about the region include Brian M. Fagan’s The Rape of the Nile: Tomb Robbers, Tourists, and Archaeologists in Egypt; Nina Burleigh’s Mirage: Napoleon’s Scientists and the Unveiling of Egypt; and Barbara Mertz’s Temples, Tombs, and Hieroglyphs: A Popular History of Ancient Egypt.
One of the best finds of all my reading for Book Lust To Go was Florence Nightingale’s Letters from Egypt: A Journey on the Nile, 1849-1850. I am always hooked by books in the genre I call “letters home,” and this was no exception. If reading these letters makes you want to find a really good biography of Nightingale (as it did for me), try (as I did) Mark Bostridge’s Florence Nightingale: The Making of an Icon.
Another account of life in Eqypt is André Aciman’s Out of Egypt: A Memoir, which tells the story of his eccentric family of Sephardic Jews from the turn of the twentieth century to the present.
A bit narrower in subject, but just as interesting, is Janet Soskice’s The Sisters of Sinai: How Two Lady Adventurers Discovered the Hidden Gospels.
As for fiction, of course the first author you have to read is Naguib Mahfouz. I’d begin with the Cairo Trilogy, made up of Palace Walk, Palace of Desire, and Sugar Street. You could spend some serious reading time just perusing this Nobel Prize-winning author’s novels.