North to the Orient

by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

In 1931 Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh set off on a flight to the Orient by the Great Circle Route. The classic North to the Orient is the beautifully written account of the trip.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Aviation, Travel, History, Biography, Classics

168 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1935

About the author

Anne Morrow Lindbergh was born in 1906. She married Charles Lindbergh in 1929 and became a noted aviator in her own right, eventually publishing several books on the subject and receiving several aviation awards. Gift from the Sea, published in 1955, earned her international acclaim. She was inducted into the National Aviation Hall of Fame, the National Women’s Hall of Fame, and the Aviation Hall of Fame of New Jersey. War Within and Without, the penultimate installment of her published diaries, received the Christopher Award in 1980. Mrs. Lindbergh died in 2001 at the age of ninety-four.

Not to be confused with her daughter Anne Lindbergh.

Reviews

[Stacia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Until I saw a Smithsonian exhibit a few years ago, I never realized that Anne Morrow Lindbergh flew with her husband on various trips, acting as his radio operator, navigator, & general Jack (or Jill) of all trades.

This is her account of their trip of trying to map new routes to Asia by flying northward. It's not so much of a technical account (although there are some technicalities discussed); rather, it's more of a diary-like smattering of some of her impressions of places they visited, people they met, & the landscapes they saw. She has a particularly beautiful chapter discussing rivers -- their importance to pilots, their majesty, their strength, & their destructiveness.

I found it rather bittersweet when A.M.L. talked about some of the Russian ladies she met & how they loved the photos of her baby (knowing that less than a year after this particular journey in 1931, the Lindbergh's baby would be kidnapped & later killed).

I have to give props to Charles Lindbergh too for being ahead of his time (imo), being willing to have his wife as his 2nd in command, deferring all questions re: radio operations & such to her, as well as for reminding some naysayers ("I wouldn't take my wife there") that she was not just his wife but also his crew.

This is a small, nice, & inspirational glimpse of their trip. I will definitely be looking into more books & accounts of the travels & lives of both of the Lindberghs.

The appendix includes various equipment lists, as well as their itinerary. I wish the itinerary had been included in the front. A map or maps marking their route would have also been most welcome (though Google came to the rescue as I was busy looking up the stops she discussed).

[Joe Bowen · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is drop-dead gorgeous! A journal of an adventure, written by the wife of the first person to fly across the Atlantic ocean, she details their air-journey northward and across the Bering Strait to end up in China, in an era before that kind of thing was possible. A pilot in her own right, Anne Lindbergh pulled her own weight on the trip, learning and taking on sole responsibility for all communications while airborne - via Morse code, among other duties. More than a crazy adventure, more than it was done by a woman in that day, more than the jobs she did, she gives a different view into the people, the places, and the travel itself than other adventure travelogues have; it's personal. In addition, she gives an intimate perspective into herself, and what a woman of that day was expected to be, even though in so many ways she was not. And this, her first book, is so well written that it began her career as an author.

Such a spectacular book that I will buy it again (I gave away the first) and simply leave it on Eva's shelf for her to find some unknown years in the future.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Whenever I read anything by or about Charles Lindbergh, I feel a personal connection. That, in turn, engenders a feeling of connection to Anne Morrow Lindbergh. It's entirely illusory, this connection, but strong nonetheless: Lindbergh was an icon to me, still a heroic figure when I was a boy in the 1950s, quite possibly a major influence on my decision to become an aviator later in life. Anne was the beautiful woman who married this heroic figure, the most famous man in the world at the time, who went adventuring with him as copilot and radio operator, who suffered with him after the kidnapping and death of their first child, who stuck with him when his reputation bottomed out in the late 1930s and early 1940s, who became an environmentalist, who found her voice as a writer of exceptional skill.

Yes, adults who had been around in the late 1930s and early 1940s knew Charles Lindbergh was a Nazi sympathizer, anti-semite, and racist. They wanted to keep their heroes, though, and didn't allow any of that to be taught in schools. As far as children in the 1950s knew, Lindbergh was as a pure a hero as he was in 1927 when he flew from New York to Paris. I learned about the other stuff as an adult, along with revelations of bigamy: a secret wife and children in Germany, children by other women.

None of this lessened my admiration of Anne, or my desire to read something she'd written. Learning later still that Anne herself had feet of clay and had had more than one extramarital affair ... not that a woman of her era would ever write about either her own husband's or her own infidelities ... made me want to read her even more. Even her own embrace of fascism during the heyday of Hitler, which damaged her reputation along with Charles', did not dissuade me.

I chose North to the Orient, her first book, the memoir of a epic 1931 flight of exploration to map potential air routes across the roof of North America and westward to Russia, Japan, and China.

This is a fascinating, lyrically-written little book; an engrossing read, conveying ... without unnecessary detail ... what it was like to pioneer air routes that had never been flown before: the preparation, the equipment and survival gear so meticulously packed into compartments and pontoons, Anne's experiences learning to send and receive Morse code from the cockpit and the constant reeling out and in of the long trailing antenna, the harrowing descriptions of blind descents in fog, navigating by compass and landmarks below.

Her descriptions of the places they visited, places only a handful of people had ever been to, are fascinating and well told: isolated trapping outposts and Eskimo villages, the Kamchatka Peninsula, remote Japanese islands, teeming China. Some of her casually-related details will jar modern sensibilities; in particular Anne's acceptance of the cultural separation of European whites from everyone else as the natural order of things, so apparent in her descriptions of tiny Canadian and Alaskan settlements, where the few white inhabitants segregated themselves from indigenous inhabitants.

Anne was a shy woman who had been raised to efface herself; this is ever apparent in her writing. I now want to read her later diaries and letters (there are several collections of these in print) to see how she developed as a person once her husband's heroism had faded, once she herself had experienced adversity and discontent, once she had become her own woman. I don't know what I will find, but that's part of the adventure.

[Carol Bakker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this astonishing on many levels. Charles (29) and Anne (25) Lindbergh flew from New York to China from July 27 - October 2, 1931, in a Lockheed Sirius low-wing monoplane with pontoon floats.

They had few maps, had to ship fuel to many spots before their trip, and flew over inaccessible territory that no one had seen before. They tried to land in coves and bays but made several landings in the open sea. They had some harrowing experiences in darkness and fog. Anne was the radio operator. With a front and rear cockpit, they could only communicate through written notes passed back and forth. The maps in the book were drawn by Charles.

To put this in context: they had been married for two years and had a son (1) when they embarked on this trip. Their son was kidnapped and killed five months after their return to the United States. This book, Anne's first, was published in 1935. Always private, AML does not reference their ordeal except to write that she missed her son while traveling.

Lindbergh's prose is understated, captivating, sublime. She never references the discomfort of flying (can. you. imagine?). She writes with wonder and appreciation for the different cultures she encounters.

"I hear you've been to Russia - what did you think of it?" I can only protest, "It isn't it; it's Them, and I like them."

Valleys hoard darkness as coves hoard light.




Before and after: I came to this splendid book, of which I had no knowledge, through Gwen Terasaki's memoir, Bridge to the Sun. As I finished this I remembered that I had a collection of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's diaries and letters from 1929-1932, Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead. It awaits my attention while sitting on my nightstand.

[Daren · Rating 2 out of 5]

Strange little book this one. In 1931 with husband Charles, Anne Lindbergh flew from New York to Japan and on to China via the shortest northern route going across northern Alaska. An untested route, with lots of stops in route with their small plane fitted with pontoons for lake / sea landings.
The author is pretty upfront about her book - in the preface she says it is not a technical account, a guidebook or a full description of the journey. It is simply her thoughts and some observations. And that is the way it reads.
There were some amusing parts, but largely it a somewhat detached view of the journey, cherry picking the parts she wished to write about, ignoring the others.
It is the 1930s, and the author is feeling underwhelmed by the media as they prepare to leave, I enjoyed this little sequence:
To explain - interviewers are speaking to the author and her husband separately,but within earshot, and Anne is not really interested in commenting, saying 'Sorry, I really haven't anything to say"... she is pursued for comment:
"Oh Mrs Lindburgh," said one "the women of America are so anxious to know about your clothes."
"And I" said another "want to write a little article about your housekeeping in the ship. What do you put in the lunchboxes?"
I felt depressed, as I generally do when women reporters ask me conventionally feminine questions. I feel as they must feel when they are given those questions to ask. I feel slightly insulted. Over in the corner my husband is being asked vital masculine questions, cleanly cut steely technicalities or broad abstractions. But I am asked about clothes and lunch-boxes. Still if I were asked about steely technicalities or broad abstractions, I would not be able to answer, so perhaps I do not deserve anything better.

[T. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am really awed by this. The language is so beautiful. Some of what I loved:

"There comes a moment when the things one has written, even a traveler's memories, stand up and demand a justification. They require an explanation. They query, "Who am I? What is my name? Why am I here?" (vii)

"The intruding gaze, one feels, must make some mark or leave an impression, as a stone shatters the unbroken stillness of a pool." (7)

"Flying implies freedom to most people. The average person who hears the drone of a motor and looks up from the walls of a city street to see an airplane boring its way through the clear trackless blue above - the average person, if he stops to use his imagination, may say to himself casually, 'Free as a bird! What a way to travel! No roads - no traffic - no dust - no heat - just pick up and go!'...In that careless phrase he is apt to overlook what lies behind the word, 'free.' He is apt to forget, or perhaps he never knew, the centuries of effort which have finally enabled a man to be a bird, centuries of patient desiring, which reach back at least as far as the Greek world of Icarus. For Icarus, trying to scale the skies with his waxen wings, was merely an early expression of man's desire to fly. How long before him the unexpressed wish wrestled in the minds of men, no one can tell." (8)

"I had great pleasure in straightening these confusions in my mind, in clarifying the complexities of my childhood world. And this sense of detachment in space gave me also a sense of detachment in time, as though I were looking back at my own life from some high point in the future - as though I could even look back on the trip we had not yet made, and from my vanishing point say calmly, 'How strange, I thought it would be so long - so difficult, that summer - and really - '" (26)

"I remembered now what night was. It was being blind and lost and trapped. It was looking and not seeing - that was night." (63)

"I was losing the sky. I did not want to let go until I could grasp something below. Down the sides of the mountain one could see a strip of water gleaming, hare-bell-blue. We were diving toward it. Down, down - the sky was gone. The sea! Hold on to the sea - that little patch of blue. Oh, the sea was gone, too. We were blind - and still down - oh, God! - we'll hit the mountain! A wave of fear like terrific pain swept over me, shriveling to blackened ashes the meaningless words 'courage' - 'pride' - 'control.' Then a lurch, the engine roared on again, and a sickening roller-coaster up. Up, up, up. I felt myself gasping to get up, like a drowning man. There - the sky was blue above - the sky and the sun! Courage flowed back in my veins, a warm, pounding stream. Thank God, there is the sky. Hold on to it with both hands. Let it pull you up. Oh, let us stay here, I thought, up in this clear bright world of reality, where we can see the sky and feel the sun. Let's never go down." (86)

"A day out of season, stopping the monotonous count of summer days. Stopping, too, one's own summer routine, so that, looking out on the gray skies, one says not only, 'What time of year is it?' but, 'What time of life am I in? Where am I? What am I doing?'" (106)

Her account of her trip to Japan really moved me. I think it was my favourite out of all the places she visited. There is so much in her book about living life, about being a woman at the age of industry and flight, about remembering, about the human desire and human despair.

If ever I get to write a memoir of my travels in the future, I want to be able to tell my story with as much grace as she did.

[Hope Squires · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm embarrassed to admit this is my first book by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Her writing is lyrical and provides insights into a time and way of life quite foreign from my own.

[Heather · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting snapshot of a very particular time in history. In 1931, after the first flights, but before people regularly traveled by plane, Anne Morrow Lindbergh and husband Charles took a two-seater prop plane from Maine to China over an arctic route. Navigation was calculated using sextants and slide rulers, radio was transmitted in Morse code.

However, one aspect of this snapshot of 1931 is that Lindbergh takes on a persona that,to post-feminist me, seems very bound by her time - that of the "little wife." Her husband (very rarely does she refer to him as Charles, he's always "my husband") is masculine and dynamic and decisive while Anne paints herself as ignorant and scared and practically useless. However, she learned Morse code and how to use a radio for this flight, and spent many hours in the air sending and receiving invaluable information! Not so useless!

Lindbergh's writing is slow and lyrical, quite a change from some of the other books I've read this summer! She uses imagery to great effect and has some wonderful insights into the places she saw and the people she met.

[Alison · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was a little disappointed in this book. Anne's voice floats somewhere between adventuress and poetess but never commits to either. I really enjoyed some parts - her chapters on learning to operate the radio were particularly funny. But other parts she waxes poetic, making broad statements about life that seem sort of flat. I would have preferred more details about their trip - I think it's fantastic she was flying around the world with Lindy and really roughing it, seeing things the rest of the world hadn't discovered yet. That Anne would have kept my attention much better than the poet Anne that kept peeking through the pages and ultimately ended up dominating the narrative. However, it's a fascinating piece of twentieth century history which alone makes it worthwhile reading.

[Karin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a wonderful revelation of self, full of disingenuous impressions and astute observations about people, cultures, and conditions. What a lucid and personal tone. Reminds me of my grandmother, who was also a young woman in that era, telling of her adventures and laughing at herself instead of trying to dramatize the events. The tiny chapter devoted to the word "sayonara" is utterly poignant. I will have to read more of her work.

[G. · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my most cherished reads. The world was still a enormous, exotic thing at the time of this writing. And Anne and Charles's relationship was spontaneous and full of adventure. The telling is simple and quiet, full of wonderfully observed detail. It's a welcome reminder that a change of life is just a flight away.

[Jenalyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed every minute of this book. She can really turn a phrase and has such poignant observations on life. Lindbergh is such a gifted writer. I can see why this was an instant national bestseller when it was first published in the 1930s.

[Maura · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an amazing book. I loved the heroism and strong female leadership. Anne was a trailblazer and a real role model for women. No matter what the era a strong woman can prevail.

[Mark Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

North to the Orient was Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s first book. Published in 1935, the book recounts a 1931 journey Anne took with her husband, aviator Charles Lindbergh. With Charles flying and Anne operating the radio, the Lindberghs flew over northern Canada, Alaska, Japan, and China, mapping possible routes for commercial air travel. Charles and Anne flew in a two-seater Lockheed Sirius Model 8, with pontoons for water landings. The plane is now at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh was a talented writer, and her prose is vivid and memorable. She wanted North to the Orient to be something more than merely a travel book, and it is much more than just a “and then we went here” account of their trip.

The Lindberghs were America’s glorious young couple, and their trip was highly publicized. The day of their departure from Long Island, Anne meditated on the difference between how she and Charles were treated by the press: “Over in the corner my husband is being asked vital masculine questions, clean-cut steely technicalities or broad abstractions. But I am asked about clothes and lunch boxes.” (p.17)

I wish that maps were included in North to the Orient, as I found myself Googling the remote settlements the Lindberghs were flying to. In Baker Lake, Canada, supplies only arrived once a year. One of the men who lived there told Anne and Charles, “Our newspapers are a year old. We get three hundred and sixty-five at a time, and read one every day—just as you do at home—only, of course, the news is a year late.” (p.35) This was a fascinating detail, and I kept mulling this over in my head long after I read it.

One of my favorite passages was Morrow Lindbergh’s evocative description of a 12-hour overnight flight from Baker Lake to Aklavik. “It never grew dark. For hours I watched a motionless sun set in a motionless cloud-bank...Always the same. Until I wondered, in spite of the vibration of the engine which hummed up through the soles of my feet, whether we were not motionless too. Were we caught, frozen into some timeless eternity there in the North?” (p.43)

Scattered throughout the book are occasional glimpses into the Lindberghs’ life together. Anne writes that Charles “was scientific and orderly and efficient enough for two.” (p.74) I can believe that. This is a man who trimmed the margins of the maps he took on The Spirit of St. Louis, in an attempt to save every ounce of weight he could.

At the time of their trip in 1931, the Lindberghs left behind their 1-year-old son, Charles Lindbergh Jr. By the time North to the Orient was published in 1935, the Lindbergh’s baby was dead, the victim of one of the most notorious kidnapping cases. The accused kidnapper, Bruno Hauptmann, was found guilty in February 1935 and was appealing the verdict on death row when North to the Orient was published. (Hauptmann was executed in 1936.)

Anne Morrow Lindbergh does not mention any of these dramatic events in North to the Orient, but there is a scene where she shows a Russian woman photographs of her young son. Knowing what will happen, the scene becomes especially poignant.

“The trapper’s wife made big circles with her hands to show how big his eyes were and pointed to the photograph she liked the best. Then, picking out others, she made me understand by pointing again, ‘This looks most like his mother,’ and ‘This is like his father.’” (p.77)

Anne and Charles have tea in Japan, and their host tells them that there should always be five people at the traditional tea ceremony. Anne has this insight: “A good number, I thought. If one talks to more than four people, it is an audience; and one cannot really think or exchange thoughts with an audience.” (p.106) That’s a fascinating idea: when does a group become an audience?

When the Lindberghs arrived in China, the country was suffering from catastrophic flooding of the Yangtze River. Charles made several flights surveying the devastation for the Chinese government and supplying aid to the victims.

The Appendix to North to the Orient makes entertaining reading, as it lists all of the equipment the Lindberghs took along. There are long lists of emergency equipment for landing on both land and water. There is also a flight log for the trip, which lasted more than two months. Charles Lindbergh could not have found a better partner for his flights than Anne, as she mastered radio transmissions and took all of the twists and turns of the journey in stride.

I was reading North to the Orient in a coffee shop when a woman sitting next to me commented that she had read the book as well. We chatted briefly about what a good writer Anne Morrow Lindbergh was. I was pleasantly surprised that the 87-year-old book I was reading sparked a conversation. North to the Orient is a testament to Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s superb writing, as the book still feels fresh today.

[Alex · Rating 2 out of 5]

'North to the Orient' is Anne Morrow Lindbergh's memoir of an aviation voyage she and her husband took from New York to China, via an Arctic route that took them through Northern Canada, Barrow AK, Eastern Sibera, the Japanese archipelago, and on to Nanking. In it, Lindbergh describes a bygone era, one of fur-company trading shacks on the banks of Hudson Bay, Eskimo canoe dwellings on Arctic beaches, Soviet planned farming communities, rural Japanese fishermen, and so on.

This should be right up my alley. After all, it combines aviation, a famous name, and history. Unfortunately, 'North to the Orient' fell short of my expectations. Lindbergh writes what is, essentially, a travelogue; and one gets the impression of a traveler with scant interest in or understanding of the people whom she meets. Natives are noble and exotic. White people are benevolent rulers. The Japanese are civilized; the Chinese are barbarians. That kind of thing. Furthermore, Lindbergh simply is not a particularly good writer. Don't get me wrong: she's ... fine. But I found it hard to concentrate on this book which should have fascinated me. Far from feeling like I was there with Lindbergh as she experienced her adventures, I felt like I was there with her while she told me about them.

This isn't the worst book I've read this year - far from it. But I've read better. If given a do-over, I'd pass on 'North to the Orient.'

Recommended for: fans of aviation history, Lindbergh completists.

[Alyssa Bohon · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the loveliest pieces of nonfiction I've read. Anne Lindbergh had a gift of conveying the richness of her adventures in brief and elegant words that gave me the feeling that each chapter was a poem, and yet that she was as humbly familiar as an old friend. She says profoundly sweet, contemplative things as if she knows you will understand, and you do. I wish this book didn't have to go back to the library where I randomly discovered it, because it is a favorite worth keeping forever.

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beauitful book...has stood the test of time!!

[Elsbeth Magilton · Rating 5 out of 5]

I started this book last spring and I am embarrassed to admit I then lost it. In re-arranging our bedroom a few weeks back I found it lodged behind my bedside table. From there I finished this quick read easily. Anne is witty and poetic in her writing. The antiquated terms are at times charming and at times jarring. Her descriptive paragraphs about viewing rivers generally from above was just beautiful. I was saddened by the last 20 or so pages and their account of the massive flooding in China. The horrifying situation was covered rather topically, which I found odd. She seemed somewhat disconnected from it.

I appreciated her humor in regards to the ridiculous questions she faced as a woman. I was curious too about how she felt about leaving her son and undertaking this journey as a parent. I got the impression to was common for women of means to leave children in the care of nannies, so perhaps she (oddly) faced less criticism for that decision then, than a modern mother would now.

[Carolyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting story of Anne and Charles Lindbergh's flight from Maine to Japan via the shortest northern route going across northern Alaska. I found it helpful to step back in time to 1931 when they did this. This route was untested - they had to plan months in advance to have supplies ready at different stopping points. Anne had to learn to be a radio operator. And their back story - they had just married in 1929, she had a baby in 1930, and now she's flying to the Orient (left the 1 year old at home) in 1931. Adventure beckons!

One thing that prevented me from rating this book higher is that she seems somewhat detached at times. She's an excellent writer and does a fine job of relaying the travel experience but she never talks about how she's getting along with her husband, is she comfortable or uncomfortable in the plane, some of the day to day things about the journey. Her husband is more like another instrument in the plane. It seems a conscious decision that she chose not to include these kinds of more personal observations. I think if she had, the book would have been even more interesting and balanced.

Overall, a really good book about an amazing adventure in a totally different time.

[Joseph]

An anecdotal account of their travels from New York to Tokyo in 1931, making the first "as the crow flies" trip by airplane, through Canada, down through Alaska Russia, and Japan. Anne Morrow Lindbergh is perfect as hostess with a familiar voice filled with humour and insight. You learn many things about the then thrill of air travel--the "magic"--as well as some of the hardware (descriptions of their radio are pretty interesting) and some things about the places and people they meet, though it's not much as far as travel writing goes. You don't really get too much of an impression in Japan or China, as they only ever stop any where for one or two days. Perhaps the blur of travel is much the same then as it is now. Furthermore, some places they stop along the way in Canada, outposts that had never at that point seen a white woman before, probably are pretty much the same as they are now. She mentions how the technology of the train and car had never really reached these places. The airplane was the only machine that was useful to them.

[Eric Hinkle · Rating 5 out of 5]

A truly beautiful book about people and the early days of transcontinental flying. Practically every word is essential. I'd never read anything by her before (aside from a preface to a Saint-Exupery book), but now I want to read a lot more.

She had such an obviously deep connection with humanity and Earth, and she expresses it SO perfectly. Her descriptions of the world from an airplane's view, and the world from the ground, and all the people she meets, are incredible - prose poetry at its finest.

This isn't so much an "adventure" book as it is a "humanity" book. Though encountering vastly different kinds of humanity is certainly an adventure, and possibly the best kind.

This book is comparable to Antoine de Saint-Exupery's best flying books, although there's none of the melancholy or pessimism that can sometimes be found in his books. It's purely beautiful and inspirational. A true gem.

[K.N. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anne Lindbergh was an extremely gifted writer. An aviator herself, this book chronicles the trip that she and Charles took from the Eastern US to Japan and China. In many ways she was ahead of her time. I was pleasantly surprised by her observations and opinions on the people and places she saw on her journey.

The people she encountered in the Northern Territories, Russia, and Northern Japan were fascinating and charming. The situation in China that Charles tried to assist with was horrifying. This was a fascinating read. I found myself agreeing and identifying with several of her ideas and feelings towards the cultures she encountered.

I received this copy of the book from a relative who has since passed away. That relative was almost a pioneer herself, having gone to Japan and China in the 1950s following WWII for business. This book feels like a physical connection to them that I can hold on to, and it's a very cherished possession.

[Sara · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a brave adventure that Anne Morrow Lindbergh and her husband, Charles Lindbergh embarked on! They traveled in a Lockheed Sirius plane equipped with pontoons and flew from New York to Tokyo in what would become the Polar route for commercial air travel. I was fascinated by Anne's learning Morse code to communicate with airfields. I enjoyed her stories about the people she met along the way in Canada, Alaska, Soviet Union, Japan and China (they helped fly doctors to people in need due to the floods of the Yangzte River). Remembering also that this was 1931 and planes were still new-fangled machines makes this all the more amazing to read about!

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an account of Anne & Charles Lindbergh's journey to China in 1931, going north through Canada, Alaska, and over the Bering Strait. Anne is such a descriptive, down-to-earth woman and made many observations along the way that I'm sure are not included in her husband's accounts: about the people she met, the places they landed in, emergency forced landings, the provisions they had to pack, acting as the radio operator, etc. The Lindberghs are an interesting family that I love to learn more about and I'll def. be reading more about Anne and her other stories.

[Kristin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A nice, fast read, short book, an incredible journey for the time, as seen through Anne Morrow Lindbergh's eyes. It put into perspective how magical being able to fly was at this time, and all the developments and change that was bringing with it. Also enjoyed her thoughts on how she was perceived as a woman doing this. She was an equal partner on this journey, and an independent person in her own right, but felt frustrated when viewed as just the wife of a famous man. Her contemplations on travel rang true for me.

[Rex Cluff · Rating 4 out of 5]

I like her perspective on the life and people they met on their flight over the north route and down to Japan and China. She makes wonderful comments on how they were received and treated. I liked her comment about Russia, which applies to her whole trip. When asked how she liked it. She responded that Russia was not an it but a they and she liked them, the people. It is a quick read. I loved it.

[Nicole Marble · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read a review that said that Lindberghs' description of the flooding in China in the 1930's was the best ever.
So, I suffered through a dated and overwrought book by the wife of Charles Lindbergh until I got to the chapter on the floods, and it was indeed brilliantly written, just that chapter, not the whole book. So, if you are interested, skip the rest and read Chapter 19 and 20.

[Kellie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book - It was written by Charles Lindbergh's wife, Anne, when they took a trip to the Orient. She writes SO beautifully. The story is exciting and heartfelt and really fun to see how "things were" when the age of flight was just taking off. Would definitely recommend! I found some pictures at http://www.charleslindbergh.com/histo...

[Daniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lindbergh's wife Anne Morrow learned Morse code and was the radio operator as Charles Lindbergh mapped out the polar route that all the jets use today to fly to Asia. I saw their plane in the Smithsonian.

[Lauralee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Marvelous book by the wife of Charles Lindburgh. The book is not so much a story as a collection of her thoughts as the two of them traveled in a small plane from New York to China. Her descriptions are so vivid I felt like I was there!