Far and Away: A Prize Every Time

by Neil Peart

Following in the tradition of Ghost Rider and Traveling Music, Rush drummer Neil Peart lets us ride with him along the backroads of North America, Europe, and South America, sharing his experiences in personal reflections and full-color photos. Spanning almost four years, these twenty-two stories are open letters that recount adventures both personal and universal?from the challenges and accomplishments in the professional life of an artist to the birth of a child. These popular stories, originally posted on Neil?s website, are now collected and contextualized with a new introduction and conclusion in this beautifully designed collector?s volume.

Fans will discover a more intimate side to Neil?s very private personal life, and will enjoy his observations of natural phenomena. At one point, he anxiously describes the birth of two hummingbirds in his backyard; at the same time, his wife is preparing for the birth of their daughter ? a striking synchronicity tenderly related to readers.

A love of drumming, nature, art, and the open road threads through the narrative, as Neil explores new horizons, both physical and spiritual. This is the personal, introspective travelogue of rock?s foremost drummer, enthusiastic biker, and sensitive husband and father. Far and Away is a book to be enjoyed again and again, like letters from a distant friend.

Genres: Nonfiction, Music, Travel, Biography, Memoir, Audiobook, Motorcycle

312 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2011

About the author

Neil Peart (pronounced /ˈpɪərt/) OC, (born Neil Ellwood Peart) was a Canadian musician and author. He is best-known as the drummer and lyricist for the rock band Rush.

Peart grew up in Port Dalhousie, Ontario, Canada (now part of St. Catharines) working the occasional odd job. However, his true ambition was to become a professional musician. During adolescence, he floated from regional band to regional band and dropped out of high school to pursue a career as a full-time drummer. After a discouraging stint in England to concentrate on his music, Peart returned home, where he joined local Toronto band Rush in the summer of 1974.

Early in his career, Peart's performance style was deeply rooted in hard rock. He drew most of his inspiration from drummers such as Keith Moon and John Bonham, players who were at the forefront of the British hard rock scene. As time progressed, however, he began to emulate the jazz and big band musicians Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich. Peart is also a pupil of jazz instructor Freddie Gruber. Peart has received many awards for his musical performances and is known for his technical proficiency and stamina.

In addition to being a musician, Peart was also a prolific writer, having published several memoirs about his travels. Peart was also Rush's primary lyricist. In writing lyrics for Rush, Peart addressed universal themes and diverse subject matter including science fiction, fantasy, and philosophy, as well as secular, humanitarian and libertarian themes. In contrast, his books have been focused on his personal experiences.

Reviews

[Sean Gibson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reviewed for Kirkus: https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-re...

[Gil · Rating 5 out of 5]

I gave this book to my father on Father's Day 2012. The backstory to this is that I quit High School to join a rock band and toured in various bands out of Ottawa and Toronto for 4 years in the 1970's. My father never understood and it was a source of great tension between us.
He passed away in June 2013, and as I was going through his things, I found the copy of Far and Away I had given to him the year before. He had written an inscription in the front of the book that told of how thanks to Neil's books: Ghost Rider, and this one, he finally understood why I had done what I did, and that rock music was not only a viable profession, but had class. Words cannot possibly express how profoundly these words touched me, and how indebted I am to Mr. Peart for his unique style communicating something very personal to my father.

Neil is not only one of the world's leading drummers, he is a talented writer, and aspects of his unique and gentle soul are described through his art.

Thank you Neil!

[Sebastian Bach · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love reading Neil's books. To me Neil puts words together like he puts together a drum solo. Incredible attention to detail. He makes the impossible look easy. Most of his books are travelogues, and this one is no different. Neil drops names of cities & locations like TMZ drops names of celebrities. You really feel like you are on the journey with Mike, Doofus, & Dingus. Maybe this book could have been edited somewhat, but like his drumming, it's all good to me. The more stories, anecdotes & life lessons from the 'Professor', the better!

[Ashley Christensen · Rating 5 out of 5]

There’s really only three reasons you’d pick this book up: You’re either a motorcycle enthusiast, a Rush enthusiast, or a drum enthusiast. But if you love good prose, and beautifully written scenes, I implore you pick this up.

This book is mainly about Peart’s road trips across various continents on tour with his band, Rush, as well as for pleasure. For those that don’t know, Peart is the drummer of this prolific three-man band (and it’s also my favorite, if you couldn’t tell), so many Rush fans read his novels to get the inside scoops, and to know more about this extremely private person. This is the second novel I’ve read by him (The first being Ghost Rider, which was also about his motorcycle adventures, but also about the loss of his wife and daughter, and it’s one of the very best novels of grief I have ever read), and cemented that I need to keep seeking out his other books. He is a fantastic lyricist, so it’s no surprise that he is also a fantastic author.

He also goes into the mechanics of drum playing, and, although I know little about instruments and even less about drums and how to play them, I found this fascinating, as well. Here is a man that, by most estimations, is one of the greatest drummers of all time. And still, he perfects his craft, he goes into learning how to play drums for a Buddy Rich tribute… he never makes you feel like he is the best of the best, but is constantly learning from other masters in his craft.

(Side note: I actually remembered to highlight a few passages I loved (something I need to remember to do more of, since they actually post Goodreads now), and I recommend checking those out, as well, if you’re interested in more about this book. He tells you more in those passages than I ever could.)

He goes into so much detail about so many things (trips to National Parks, the birth of his daughter juxtaposed with baby hummingbirds in his yard, drumming for fun, etc) that one would think it would be boring to get through, but the payoff is always there in the end. He definitely goes off on tangents but always brings them back around.

I took frequent “breaks” while reading this book: I’d read a chapter here, a few chapters there, because I was enjoying it, and wanted to savor it. The book was never dull, and never bored me, but I also didn’t want to plow through it, like I do so many other novels.

You may not fit into the three categories I listed above, and maybe this wouldn’t be a book you’d pick up otherwise. However, everything good comes from stepping outside of the box a little, especially when it comes to Peart. I highly recommend this book.

[Jim Razinha · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another travelogue of sorts by Mr. Peart, this is less a focus on one tour or task/goal as with previous books, that a collection of essays/observations. Sometimes a tad flat (sacrilege!) but still with glimpses of wisdom doled out. And one can only look at so many pictures of solo motorcyclists (for some reason, I expected more of ... the locations) and read descriptions of how a particular ride photo was taken. But the narrative makes up for it. One ending for one essay resonated: "The silence was perfect, the day was perfect, and there was nothing more important to do than watch the birds for a little while, then open my book and start reading." That could have been a perfect ending to the book, though it wasn't. Love it.

Selected outtakes, with some observations of my own:

[on the "arrival" after a ride] Perhaps my favorite part of a long day on the motorcycle is that first hour of arriving and settling into a hotel, whether humble or luxurious. It feels so good to pull up in front of the hotel, kick down the sidestand, and lift a weary leg over the saddle, still keyed up from the day’s adventures, yet gradually easing into a more relaxed state of mind.
{I've driven some long hauls in my life, some quite recent, and I totally get the "keyed up" at the end.}

[on food] Brutus and I have a particular appreciation for good food, perhaps because both of us do a lot of cooking at home (though I admit with all humility that Brutus is the more intuitive and sophisticated chef— I’m just a recipe-follower.)
{I, too, am a recipe-follower. I can cook some really good stuff, but I usually can't think of what to cook, and I can't create something from just a list of ingredients, omelettes excepted.}

[on his performance footwear] ... and my drumming shoes. (Actually dancing shoes, inspired by my teacher, Freddie Gruber. When I first studied with him, back in 1995, he shook his finger at me and said, “Don’t play drums in sneakers!” Freddie’s method was centered on teaching me to dance on the drums, so I tried some soft-shoe dancing shoes, and now I can’t play properly without them.)
{I found this fascinating. Dance shoes for drumming. Cool.}

[on his take on touring,... and reading] ... and I tried to explain to him [interviewer] that I didn’t consider touring, or even drumming, to be my life.
He seemed perplexed, and to appraise me as clearly jaded and cynical, because his next question was “When did you start to feel that way?”
I paused to think for a couple of seconds, then was glad to feel the mental light bulb illuminate a true and clear answer. I was able to answer honestly, “About a month into the first tour, in 1974.” That really was when I started to feel that touring was “not enough,” and turned to reading books as a way to make more use of the days and nights.
{love it; I will read to make more use of my days}

[more on arriving] Of course it’s just my opinion, but to me, my life is not dedicated to the place, but to the journey, and to the hour of arriving.
{I've moved a lot in my life. When someone asks "where are you from?", my answer usually doesn't satisfy them until I anchor myself somewhere. More's the pity because the journey is far more interesting.}

[on a curious aside] … stop for a rest and look at a cozy-looking farm for sale. I would think, “I could buy that farm and hide out there—just park my bike in that barn. They’d never find me . . .”
Or even in my earliest days of touring, in the ’70s, I would get fed up with too much “carney life” (like the Gummi Bears theme song, “Bouncing here and there and everywhere”—and never mind how I know that), and would fantasize about running away to the airport, and just going home.
{love this! I have had the Gummi Bears theme earworm me for years! (And you can ask how I know it... my kids, of course.}

[on experiencing... and writing] A few times I had to grab onto a nearby bush for support, and once I smelled the most delicious perfume, piney but with a hint of vanilla and citrus (I sound like a “wine bore”). I discovered that the fragrance was coming from my hands, and looked back to see that it was a limber pine I had grabbed. I knew them as one of the characteristic high - elevation trees of the Western mountains, but I never knew they smelled so good. After that I occasionally crushed a few more branches in my hands on purpose, just to inhale that subtle perfume again.
On a climb like that, my mind is always working furiously. All the way up and all the way down I was having conversations with myself, and mentally “writing” things into sentences—descriptions, reflections, ideas. […] My thoughts are more random, and I simply imagine how I might put them into words. I often do that on the motorcycle, too, and I figure in that three-day journey I “wrote” about 10,000 words. Now I just have to work until I take away those quotation marks ...
{oh boy, I “write” a lot on long drives… and promptly forget most of what I’ve come up with when I try to take away my quotation marks}

[poetry in prose] As I glided along the ski trails, or broke deep tracks in the virgin snow on the snowshoes, I saw all these stories written in the snow, but I seldom spied their elusive authors in the silent woods.
{stories written in the snow; great turn of a phrase}

[on the stripping of a Canadian forest through logging] When I walked into the shadows of the rich-smelling northern woods, through pine needles, ferns, and arbors of sumac, I always imagined I was entering the primeval forest—thrilled to think that where I stepped, perhaps no human had ever set foot before. Eventually coming to understand the reality of the wholesale logging that had stripped that land again and again, and that only a scrubby imitation of its former majesty had regrown, was one of those poignant surrenders of illusion for reality, of innocence for knowledge. That exchange is sometimes difficult, even painful. As I wrote in a song long ago, “Illusions are painfully shattered/ Right where discovery starts.” Ain’t it the truth.
For myself, I would always rather know than not, would rather pay that price for the apple of knowledge—because painful truth seems preferable to blissful ignorance.
But I would sure give a lot to see the forests of Quebec as they once were.
{When I was young, I read a lot about how much forest and plains there were before people came along and pillaged. I would give a lot to see them as well.}

[even more on arriving] After carrying my luggage inside, I poured a Macallan on ice into a Best Western cup of finest plastic, then took a self-portrait of my weary, saggy face. It was not a pretty sight, and won’t be shared with others—but I wanted to remember.
{I don’t do The Macallan on the road (or much, period), but I have had a few craft beers in the “finest plastic”!}

[insights into lyric writing and song creation] In 1985, I wrote the lyrics for a song called “Manhattan Project,” about the birth of the Atomic Age (“The big bang, took and shook the world/ Shot down the rising sun”). Unusually for the lyrics to a rock song, “Manhattan Project” required a great deal of research (in the days when research had to be done by reading a pile of books rather than pressing a few keys), and I learned a lot. Then I had to distill all of that knowledge into what would add up to only 167 words—and they had to be words that could be sung.
Once I had chiseled out a draft of what I wanted to convey, it wasn’t easy to “sell” the notion of a historical rock song, even to my bandmates. But it was Geddy, thinking as a singer, who suggested that I construct it so the listener was invited to imagine the scene. (Moments of collaboration like that are galvanizing in two ways—first that someone else likes your idea enough to take it seriously, then suggests a way to make it better.)
{More than I find fascinating.}

[on superstitions] When I was a boy of six or seven, I remember fervently believing that I could prevent bad things from happening if I worried about them enough. Now I recognize that atavistic urge as a primitive kind of prayer, and I was still superstitious enough then to believe in magical thinking.
{curious… I consider prayer a primitive response... and I find myself still surprised at the slight revelations Peart shares about himself.}

[on English cars] For some, the fantasy might be that if you can afford to buy a beautiful old car, then you could just drive around in it, looking surpassingly cool.
Oh no. Nothing is that easy. An old car—especially an old English car—will test you.
{Yes! I had a Triumph TR-6 long ago. It tested me. Work on it all week, drive on the weekend, then back to working on the kinks again the next week.}

[on books] Books, I think, are a different kind of time machine. Instead of reminding you of a lost world, they create one for you. More personal, more intimate — unlike movies, say, the world you experience while reading a book has been lived and envisioned entirely from the inside, and its contours are yours alone.
This pile of volumes [a photo] represents my reading list for ten days in late February, a solitary winter retreat that was somewhat marred by bad weather, and being under the weather, so I had nothing better to do than lie by the fire and turn the pages. (If there really is a heaven . . . )
Obviously these titles are all future material for Bubba’s Book Club, but just looking at the spines now, the stories, images, scenes, characters, and moods conveyed to me, as the reader, are near infinite. A treasure chest, a time capsule, a time machine with access to so many worlds.
{This}

[John Devlin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Earnest. Mr. Peart is earnest. Whether he's traveloguing his journeys through America north or south he's earnest. If he's detailing his care and scrutiny of a hummingbird's nest he's earnest. If he's discussing drumming he's earnest. If he's writing about his love of motorcycling and the lessons its imparted to him he's earnest.

This is not a criticism. Peart's gift is that he never comes off as naive, and his brief forays into history - Japan and the Atom Bomb, and his reluctance to anthropomorphize nature, show that he's no dewy eyed fellow who sees the world through rose colored glasses.

For a long time I had a certain disdain for Rush. Not because of the band but because I knew many folks in college who would get into a near prayer circle any time a new Rush album came out. While I liked many of their songs and was always impressed with the excellent musicianship, the hero-worship that surrounded them always left me feeling like the guy who refused to drink the Kool-Aid.

That of course was not the band's fault. In the last five years I happened to watch a documentary on the band and I realized that these 3 men, somewhat like Thor's companions' the Warriors 3, had pulled off a trick far more impressive than perhaps all their musical success: they had stayed friends and not fallen prey to being the focus of a Vh-1 Behind the Music where drugs, adultery and decadence is the norm.

So I raise a toast of the Macallan that Mr Peart so loves in praise of his talents as a writer, musician and a friend.

[Sean · Rating 2 out of 5]

Just read a review and agree that he is very, very earnest. Take himself very, very seriously. Definitely NOT a guy I would want to grab a beer with. Some of the parts of some of these stories were interesting, but most of it was not.

[Brian]

****

[Mark Gowan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Neil Peart's continued journal of his writings and life outside of Rush is interesting, but it is interesting because he is a legend in a legendary rock band. For those of us who ride and love motorcycles, we must live vicariously through books such as Peart's in dry times (work gets in the way), or wet times (weather gets in the way). That being said, Far and Away is, at least in theory, a book on motorcycling.

However, the book's main theme is Peart's life on and off the motorcycle. There are sections where the life of riding is portrayed in his dry and witty way, always pushing those of us who turn around when the ride gets a bit rough, to power on. There are also sections of the book that point towards other aspects of Peart's life that perhaps do not interest those of us who buy such books to live vicariously.

Peart has spent a respectable amount of time writing books and the style shows, but it shows cracks here and there. Far and Away reads somewhat like a personal diary that Peart puts up to the public, which is ironic seeing that he is such a private person. Far and Away is not just a motorcycle book and so if one is looking for an interesting read about a drum legend this might suffice. If one is a motorcycle junky and is interested in two-wheeled adventure writing, I think that this book falls a bit short.

[Tim Healy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was written several years after the last book of Neil's, Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road, I read. In that time, his life has found a new level. He's remarried, and is in the throes of waiting the arrival of a child. He's not as sad or disenfranchised as he was in the last book. This is a series of things that he'd written, mostly for his website, that he's gathered together as a book. His writing is interesting enough to keep me going, though I suspect when I look at the reviews I'll see more comments about how self-involved his writing is. It's autobiographical, folks. Get over yourselves. If he's not thinking about himself, how's he going to write what's happening in a meaningful way? Anyway, there's a lot of backroads America in the book. The travel between shows on Rush tours via motorcycle, rather than tour bus, allowed him to see a lot of places and do a lot of things that he might not have otherwise. His traveling companions, Michael and the omnipresent Bubba, also keep him entertained and moving. There's also a lot of drumming conversation in some of these, if that's something you're into. I enjoyed this one.

[Patti · Rating 5 out of 5]

Some people might know who the author is right off. Some people might know the name but can’t place it. Some people will have no clue.

Neil Peart is the late drummer from the Canadian rock band Rush. He left behind not only a great gift to fans in his music, but also in his writing as well.

Peart was an avid motorcyclist and took that love on the road with him when Rush was touring. Far and Away: A Prize Every Time is a collection of writing he did about that time on the road and posted on the website he had at the time.

Most of the writing is about his adventures in motorcycling across the United States and Canada. Peart is what is known as a “shunpiker” in that he tries to stay off the main Interstates whenever possible and travel by back roads. Living where I do, I understand that. It’s different to experience the country driving on back roads rather than zooming by on the Interstate.

To read my full review, please see: https://thoughtsfromthemountaintop.co...

[Jennifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've been meaning to read Peart's "Far" threesome for awhile now, and his passing inspired me to begin (finally). I guess I'm what you'd call a casual Rush fan (if there is such a thing) but I've long held a great admiration of Neil Peart as a musician / lyricist / entity all his own. I'm happy now to admire him very much as a writer. Solid, consistent snapshots of his adventures delivered in an honest and personable tone. I'm not a 'read before bed' type generally but this book was great for that because I was mostly amused or filled with admiration--not a bad feeling to drift off to. Perhaps it wasn't spectacular writing in a firework way but it resonated with me--I'd honestly give this more stars if I could.

Also--a good kinda book to pick up for someone who likes to daydream about hopping on a motorcycle but is, at present, a little too scared too try it themselves :) I look forward to the next two volumes.

[Luis · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book because I'm a Rush fan, as I suspect is why most people have read it. It's ironic that Neil Peart, being the most private and reserved member of the Rush trio would expose so much of his personal life, thoughts and feelings in this motorcycle travel journal. The book is a combination of nature watch, motorcycle road tips, small town history and observation on human behavior. It's telling that though he speaks at length of America's (the continent) natural wonders he rarely speaks of the people he meets along the way, indeed he shuns any human contact other than his riding partner. It's interesting to live vicariously through this travel book, as few have the financial resources and vast amount of free time to undertake such long and frequent treks. He seamlessly combines work and pleasure, riding during days in between Rush's tour schedule, taking less-travelled roads and choosing the "scenic route" whenever possible.

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another reviewer summed it up better than I could:

"There’s really only three reasons you’d pick this book up: You’re either a motorcycle enthusiast, a Rush enthusiast, or a drum enthusiast. But if you love good prose, and beautifully written scenes, I implore you pick this up."

I'd also add "A travel reader enthusiast" as well. It's one of those books where you don't read it one sitting. It's the I read a story at lunch, a story before bed, a story while sipping a beer on the porch type of book. Took me a month to read but it was an enjoyable month and I always looked forward to the part of the day where I'd read one of the stories.

But yeah, I'm a big Rush fan. :-)

[Eric · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am about half way through this book, and thoroughly enjoying it. Neil Peart has a chapter "Shunpikin' It Old Skool" that describes how my Dad Larry Henderson​ on his various travels and meanderings. Originally shunpiking was avoiding the toll turn-pikes in England. Neal's philosophy (and my Dad's) when traveling is to avoid highways and freeways whenever possible, and take a route that he has never travelled before. He describes finding hidden treasures when traveling the backroads (and sometime just dirt paths) during his tours throughout the world.

[Marc Diepstraten · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m still reeling and in shock about the sudden passing of Neil. Of course his music and lyrics of Rush remain, and his books. The letters ordered by month are an absolute delight to read. Many of the places described here I’ve visited also over the years, and seeing them through Neils eyes makes for fond memories. The subjects touched are wide as were the interests of Neil. Lovely photo’s support the stories. Mandatory reading for Rush fans, travelbook fans, motorcycle buffs or all of the above. Unreal that he is gone, what a loss...

[Alex Stephenson · Rating 4 out of 5]

The first of the three essay collections written by Peart (culled from blog posts published on his website, which has not been well-archived otherwise from what I can tell). Some predictably witty, verbkse and self-effacing reflections on touring, motorcycling and drumming, as well as becoming a parent again after losing his first child so horribly. The removal of a discrete narrative or any sense of conscious pacing allows Peart's ramblings more room to spread their wings, and I appreciate that in this case.

[Jaq Greenspon · Rating 4 out of 5]

The more I read of Peart's works, the more I understand that while he is incredibly intelligent and a fine writer, I don't think I would want to hang out with him - at least not often. The same arrogance and privilege I found in Ghost Rider I found here, sure, but he strikes me as the kind of person one can only take in short doses - even himself (as evidenced by the amount of time he spends away from other people).

[Jim McKillop · Rating 5 out of 5]

I raced through this book. As a fan, I really enjoyed the aspects of the book that relate to the tour. But the descriptive and personal nature of his writing is very engaging.

If you liked Ghost Rider, you may find this one a little less personal - concentrating more on the travelling and less on his personal life. Still wholeheartedly recommended.

[pianogal · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this one a lot. I was a little worried b/c I didn't know how well everything would fit together. Mr. Peart did a good job - it flowed well. I should have expected nothing less from a master musician. Good read. Almost makes me want to take a motorcycle ride through the backwoods of America.

Almost.

[Ashley Hedden · Rating 5 out of 5]

Far and Away: A Prize Every Time was a great read by Neil Peart. Rush drummer Neil Peart let's you ride with him along the backroads of North America, Europe, and South America. He shares his experiences and personal reflections along with full color photos. These twenty-two stories span four years of open letters. I enjoyed reading this book and can't wait to read more by the author.

[Jeffrey Falk · Rating 3 out of 5]

Neil Peart's prose is addictive, and this discursive collection of travelogues on tour with Rush and elsewhere is informative and entertaining for anyone who appreciates travel writing with geographical color and detail.

[Bill Murphy · Rating 1 out of 5]

So tedious and boring. Uneventful. Unimportant. Waste of digital storage. Painful and just more of the same over and over and over......last of his books for me. Two is more than enough. Only read because I am a Rush fan. But that don’t make it right. 🥴

[Lester B Pennington · Rating 4 out of 5]

Neil has gotten pretty good at travel writing. The mix with the band stuff makes it interesting. Traveling all over the world by motorcycle is no easy feat, but how Neil does it is something most of us can only dream about.

[Sam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Being a sucker for travel writing AND Rush, I was almost guaranteed to enjoy this. Will definitely check out some of Peart’s other books now. Much of the technical drumming was lost on me but thankfully it was a small piece of the book.

[Jen · Rating 4 out of 5]

What an interesting and intelligent man Mr. Peart was. Mainly a travel book, this has so much more going for it. Music, a little humor, zen motorcycle advice and some personal insights. An accomplished and humble man. 4.5/5

[Jenn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like receiving letters from an old friend, I looked forward to each chapter of Peart's autobiographical travelogue. So much wisdom about living fully. This man experienced more than most people ever dream of and shared it freely. His music and writings are a gift to humanity.

[Scott Foshee · Rating 4 out of 5]

I just finished reading Far and Away by Neil Peart, legendary former drummer of Rush. It’s a very interesting recounting of his motorcycle journeys between stops on the Rush 2007-2008 Snakes and Arrows tour. #books #reading

[Courtney McGrale · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rush drummer and lyricist Neil Peart’s books are a real treat, and to be savored. The whole book is dog-eared.

[Freddie · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting view into an interesting man’s life.