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Nothing to Declare: Memories of a Woman Traveling Alone
The author chronicles her travels throughout Central America and shares her observations on the hardships of the region
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
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5153 people want to read
About the author
Mary Morris
103 books359 followersI was born in Chicago and, though I have lived in New York for many years, my roots are still in the Midwest and many of my stories are set there. As a writer my closest influences are Willa Cather and F. Scott Fitzgerald. I travel as much as I can and travel fuels everything I do. When I travel, I keep extensive journals which are handwritten and include watercolors, collage as well as text. All my writing begins in these journals. I tend to move between fiction and nonfiction. I spent seventeen years working on my last novel, The Jazz Palace. I think I learned a lot writing that book because the next one only took three years., Gateway to the Moon. Gateway which will be out in March 2018 is historical fiction about the secret Jews of New Mexico. I am also working on my fifth travel memoir about my travels alone. This one is about looking for tigers.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 128 reviews
October 6, 2014
I hesitantly give this book 3 stars, because I would really like to give it both 1 star and 4/5 stars. I alternately loved and hated it. Morris is at her best describing what she observes during her travels: the colors, smells, odd but telling details, and the scenery. She is able to evoke the place on the page, which is a rare feat even in travel writing. She doesn't shy away from grime or the grotesque. However, the "memoir" parts of the book, in which she reflects on her character and on her own life, are irritating, and at times, she seems oblivious to her own privilege (something I'm sure I'm often guilty of as well, which is perhaps why it irritated me so much). Her characterizations of the "natives" she meets are often overly simplistic and even condescending (with the exception of her neighbor Lupe, who is evoked with complexity and compassion, and whose daily struggles bring tears to the eyes). I'm glad that I read this book, even the parts that I didn't enjoy, because I remained fully engaged throughout, and it caused me to learn and reflect.
November 7, 2022
2.5 stars. Written in 1988. This was not a travel memoir throughout Central America that I was hoping for, but it was an easy anecdotal read despite the description of grinding poverty, hard to believe trips on her own and weird dreams. She never said she smoked any peyote or did any other kind of drugs but some of the dreams and trances made me think she left something out!
Women who travel as I travel are dreamers. Our lives seem to be lives of endless possibility. Like readers of romances we think that anything can happen to us at any time. We forget that this is not our real life- our life of domestic details, work pressures, attempts and failures at human relations. We keep moving from anecdote to anecdote, from hope to hope. Around the next bend something new will befall us. Nostalgia has no place for a woman traveling alone. Our motion is forward, whether by train or daydream. Our sights are on the horizon, across the strange terrain, vast desert, unfordable rivers, impenetrable ice peaks.
Those thoughts would be motivating indeed to travel the world. But the portrait she paints of her time south of the border would stop me in my tracks. It is a real one to be sure.
Morris receives a grant for writing and decides to leave NYC and a broken relationship and move to Mexico. She finds herself in the small town of San Miguel and rents an apartment in a poor part of the town. She did not speak the language, yet she always seemed to meet up with someone who would help her in her early navigation of either San Miguel or when she traveled south. A neighbor Lupe, who worked for the landlord, befriends Mary and she becomes her lifeline, and we all see the world through her eyes and it isn't pretty.
One of the positives of this book are her trips to various Central American countries. Most seem ill-advised or perhaps just poorly planned. She was traveling through some of these countries during periods of turmoil on the edge of revolution. She definitely sees parts of the countries that most of us would miss and meets all sorts of characters along the way. I wonder how much is embellished.
Negatives: Sometimes her descriptions of indigenous people seem too stereotypical. She never seems happy and broods about her love life.
Women who travel as I travel are dreamers. Our lives seem to be lives of endless possibility. Like readers of romances we think that anything can happen to us at any time. We forget that this is not our real life- our life of domestic details, work pressures, attempts and failures at human relations. We keep moving from anecdote to anecdote, from hope to hope. Around the next bend something new will befall us. Nostalgia has no place for a woman traveling alone. Our motion is forward, whether by train or daydream. Our sights are on the horizon, across the strange terrain, vast desert, unfordable rivers, impenetrable ice peaks.
Those thoughts would be motivating indeed to travel the world. But the portrait she paints of her time south of the border would stop me in my tracks. It is a real one to be sure.
Morris receives a grant for writing and decides to leave NYC and a broken relationship and move to Mexico. She finds herself in the small town of San Miguel and rents an apartment in a poor part of the town. She did not speak the language, yet she always seemed to meet up with someone who would help her in her early navigation of either San Miguel or when she traveled south. A neighbor Lupe, who worked for the landlord, befriends Mary and she becomes her lifeline, and we all see the world through her eyes and it isn't pretty.
One of the positives of this book are her trips to various Central American countries. Most seem ill-advised or perhaps just poorly planned. She was traveling through some of these countries during periods of turmoil on the edge of revolution. She definitely sees parts of the countries that most of us would miss and meets all sorts of characters along the way. I wonder how much is embellished.
Negatives: Sometimes her descriptions of indigenous people seem too stereotypical. She never seems happy and broods about her love life.
February 24, 2013
Fair warning: I did not finish this book.
And yet, I'm giving it a one star rating.
Here's why:
"Nothing to declare" is a book about a woman moving to Mexico to write. Although I don't think it is explicitly mentioned, the subtitle "Memoirs of a woman traveling alone" as well as the first person narrator strongly imply that the woman Morris is writing about is Morris herself. At least I had no reason to assume otherwise.
Apart from the fact that moving to another country is not traveling (to me - and I've spent several years living abroad in different countries and I've traveled), there was nothing wrong with the book in the beginning. I was waiting for it to develop into something good or maybe not so good, but it was definitely ok at first.
Until I came across this little sentence, almost casually, but completely seriously thrown in little sentence on page 36:
"I was bored so I offered to read their palms, something I can do, though I don't like to waste or abuse my powers."
I immediately lost any resepct I may have had for Mary Morris and was completely, completel unable to take her or anything she wrote serious. Ever. Again.
Please, palmreaders of the world, come and stone me and try to convince me that you really can read palms. PLEASE feel free.
Freedom of opinion and everything, you have every right to believe in whatever you want and TELL me about it, since the internet, at least this review here, is kinda a public place. But PLEASE do not expect me not to lean back and die laughing.
This is really the BEST and most absurd thing I have ever across in a book - it took me completely by surprise. I still don't know if I should laugh or cry. It's memorable for sure.
But reading something by someone who is so obviously a lunatic and does not know it?
I can't. Really, I can't.
And yet, I'm giving it a one star rating.
Here's why:
"Nothing to declare" is a book about a woman moving to Mexico to write. Although I don't think it is explicitly mentioned, the subtitle "Memoirs of a woman traveling alone" as well as the first person narrator strongly imply that the woman Morris is writing about is Morris herself. At least I had no reason to assume otherwise.
Apart from the fact that moving to another country is not traveling (to me - and I've spent several years living abroad in different countries and I've traveled), there was nothing wrong with the book in the beginning. I was waiting for it to develop into something good or maybe not so good, but it was definitely ok at first.
Until I came across this little sentence, almost casually, but completely seriously thrown in little sentence on page 36:
"I was bored so I offered to read their palms, something I can do, though I don't like to waste or abuse my powers."
I immediately lost any resepct I may have had for Mary Morris and was completely, completel unable to take her or anything she wrote serious. Ever. Again.
Please, palmreaders of the world, come and stone me and try to convince me that you really can read palms. PLEASE feel free.
Freedom of opinion and everything, you have every right to believe in whatever you want and TELL me about it, since the internet, at least this review here, is kinda a public place. But PLEASE do not expect me not to lean back and die laughing.
This is really the BEST and most absurd thing I have ever across in a book - it took me completely by surprise. I still don't know if I should laugh or cry. It's memorable for sure.
But reading something by someone who is so obviously a lunatic and does not know it?
I can't. Really, I can't.
January 11, 2018
A memoir of an American woman in her thirties who uses a writing grant to live in Mexico and travel Central America in the 1980s. It's an interesting account, but I also felt it difficult to connect with the author. I couldn't quite relate to her lifestyle, nor to the many risks she takes. She seems to drift, she forms fleeting bonds with strangers, most of whom she doesn't particularly like. The author is also a novelist, and at times she takes some obvious creative liberties, leaving me wondering where else in the account she took liberties. But then, when it comes to a memoir, it's not an account of what happened, but rather how the author perceived what happened.
It seems at this point in her life, Morris was lost. She's constantly lonely, but wants to be unattached. As if she wants the benefit of relationships, but doesn't want to invest herself in them. She is very critical of these people she meets. She can't seem to make meaningful bonds. She has an attitude of superiority, and she keeps track of every wrong or failure toward her. She has a relationship with a local man who falls in love with her, but all along she has no intention of making it a permanent relationship. And he accuses her, accurately I think, of North American superiority. She has one moment of recognizing that her behavior is self-absorbed, but it's fleeting.
Most other Americans living there fare no better in her eyes. They all seem to be "writers" and "photographers", people looking to live cheaply. The irony is that while she finds these others lacking, she herself is there on a writing grant. Of course, she is a talented writer, and she gets published. But does success make someone superior, or just make her feel superior?
Perhaps the most disturbing moment comes at the end. The author grows very close to a woman named Lupe who lives next door. Lupe does a great deal to help her--she shows her how to live there, she helps her get what she needs, she offers friendship and support and comfort. But Lupe has a hard life she seems to be trapped in. Too many children, never enough money, dependent on a man who treats her poorly. Perhaps that's why Morris, despite their friendship, never thinks of her as equal. They come from different worlds, so this is not the disturbing part. It's when the author returns one last time after a trip to San Miguel, Mexico where she lived to pack up her things and move back to the U.S. There she learns that Maria Elena, Lupe's daughter, just died giving birth to a daughter whom they named Maria--after the author. She has no reaction or comment on this news. There's a scene break, and the author carries on with her life. She doesn't acknowledge the death or her friend's grief outside of the point that they named the baby after her.
I don't know if the grief was too private for her to write about. Or perhaps the author thought the news was an attempt to change her mind--Lupe wants to escape a hard and inescapable life and wants to leave with Morris, and bring her children. Morris insists she can't, she wouldn't be happy. So I wonder, was the child named for her mother, also Maria, and telling Mary differently was an attempt to change her mind? Regardless, I found Morris lack of reaction or significant acknowledgment of the death of a woman who she had known well, the daughter of a woman who did so much for her, to be disturbing.
It seems at this point in her life, Morris was lost. She's constantly lonely, but wants to be unattached. As if she wants the benefit of relationships, but doesn't want to invest herself in them. She is very critical of these people she meets. She can't seem to make meaningful bonds. She has an attitude of superiority, and she keeps track of every wrong or failure toward her. She has a relationship with a local man who falls in love with her, but all along she has no intention of making it a permanent relationship. And he accuses her, accurately I think, of North American superiority. She has one moment of recognizing that her behavior is self-absorbed, but it's fleeting.
Most other Americans living there fare no better in her eyes. They all seem to be "writers" and "photographers", people looking to live cheaply. The irony is that while she finds these others lacking, she herself is there on a writing grant. Of course, she is a talented writer, and she gets published. But does success make someone superior, or just make her feel superior?
Perhaps the most disturbing moment comes at the end. The author grows very close to a woman named Lupe who lives next door. Lupe does a great deal to help her--she shows her how to live there, she helps her get what she needs, she offers friendship and support and comfort. But Lupe has a hard life she seems to be trapped in. Too many children, never enough money, dependent on a man who treats her poorly. Perhaps that's why Morris, despite their friendship, never thinks of her as equal. They come from different worlds, so this is not the disturbing part. It's when the author returns one last time after a trip to San Miguel, Mexico where she lived to pack up her things and move back to the U.S. There she learns that Maria Elena, Lupe's daughter, just died giving birth to a daughter whom they named Maria--after the author. She has no reaction or comment on this news. There's a scene break, and the author carries on with her life. She doesn't acknowledge the death or her friend's grief outside of the point that they named the baby after her.
I don't know if the grief was too private for her to write about. Or perhaps the author thought the news was an attempt to change her mind--Lupe wants to escape a hard and inescapable life and wants to leave with Morris, and bring her children. Morris insists she can't, she wouldn't be happy. So I wonder, was the child named for her mother, also Maria, and telling Mary differently was an attempt to change her mind? Regardless, I found Morris lack of reaction or significant acknowledgment of the death of a woman who she had known well, the daughter of a woman who did so much for her, to be disturbing.
June 19, 2015
It's pretty standard, straightforward, anecdotal memoir stuff. A quick, fun read, especially if you have any interest in mesoamerican native history. The story (and the locations she visits) has a certain timelessness to it. Apart from some specific Nicaraguan historical moments she encounters, it could be taking place at virtually any time. Time in impoverished places moves very slowly.
Highlight: she did capture well the feeling that travel can be transcendent, drug-like, and that even terrifying situations (or maybe especially terrifying situations?) are what make experiencing new places so addictive. The best travel stories are ALWAYS built on calamities. As pleasant as it may be to experience it, it's not interesting to hear about that week you spent lying on a beach chair with a cocktail.
"I wanted to keep going forever, to never stop...it was like a drug in me. As a traveler I can achieve a kind of high, a somewhat altered state of consciousness. I think it must be what athletes feel."
Otherwise, I was disappointed that I didn't LIKE Mary. She takes advantage of people, is cold, detached, and selfish. Despite the fact that she goes out of her way to mention every time she gives things away, she seems to think much more highly of her own generosity than is probably necessary. She fancies herself a psychic of sorts, clearly straying from reality a time or two.
Highlight: she did capture well the feeling that travel can be transcendent, drug-like, and that even terrifying situations (or maybe especially terrifying situations?) are what make experiencing new places so addictive. The best travel stories are ALWAYS built on calamities. As pleasant as it may be to experience it, it's not interesting to hear about that week you spent lying on a beach chair with a cocktail.
"I wanted to keep going forever, to never stop...it was like a drug in me. As a traveler I can achieve a kind of high, a somewhat altered state of consciousness. I think it must be what athletes feel."
Otherwise, I was disappointed that I didn't LIKE Mary. She takes advantage of people, is cold, detached, and selfish. Despite the fact that she goes out of her way to mention every time she gives things away, she seems to think much more highly of her own generosity than is probably necessary. She fancies herself a psychic of sorts, clearly straying from reality a time or two.
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April 4, 2018It's 2018 and this book has not aged well. There was very little traveling all things considered and I find the undertone of racism and elitism is deeply unpleasant. It's like an ode to poorly executed travel plans by a financially well-off person but with lines like the one about how the Mexicans who came out to the fountains / plazas with their family are often fat and splashing around happily and how she wishes she knows how to be that carefree. (This was literally within the first 50 pages.) I could see how this book could be considered exotic / trail blazing for the time when it was first written but for 2018? Not great.
February 9, 2009
This is an amazing book. Having lived in rural Mexico I was captivated and drawn into Morris's world immediately. But she is such a gifted story teller that you do not need any knowledge of Mexico to be drawn in. You can relate to her loneliness and isolation, along with her sense of adventure, trying to do more than just scratch the surface of this new world. This is probably in my top five of all travel narratives I have read. Don't miss this one!
May 20, 2014
I was excited when I realized that this author had lived and written in San Miguel; thus, I thought it would be filled with stories of the wonderful, quirky, adventuresome, warm, curious, artistic people, both Mexicans and ex-pats, who live and work in this part of Mexico. , Ms Morris shared my love of the beauty of this semi-desert mountainous terrain with it's other-worldly light. But where were all the wonderful characters I was expecting? Ms Morris makes friends with her neighbour, an extremely poor woman with many children and a wandering spouse but she seems pretty disdainful of everyone else she meets. Her lover seems like a sweet gentle man but it is apparent from the start that she is going to leave him. Mexico City is one of the most vibrant cities in the world yet she leaves us feeling that it is nothing but a dreary apartment holding her hostage and keeping her from returning to Her life in San Miguel. . She describes her travels in South American countries mostly by the inconsequential people that she meets. She definitely leaves the impression that travelling is dreary and difficult and leaves us wondering why she does it. Mary Morris describes herself as a woman very in tune with the "ghost" world - San Miguel is full of stories of ghostly presences yet the ones described by the author are unconvincing. All in all, the overall feeling in this book is one of sadness. Yet, the writing was often lovely. I know Mary Morris has written many other books and keeps up a blog; her writing interests me enough to check out her blog to see if she has moved on to find joy in her life and her travels
March 2, 2014
Sometimes I think I want to travel the world. I’ve always felt like a bit (okay, a lot) of a homebody, but there may actually be some wanderlust in my little hermit heart. The way Morris describes the vast Mexican desert and the ferocious jungles of South America makes my heart ache for wild spaces and beautiful adventure.
Nothing to Declare paints a picture of a woman finding herself as she explores the world. She moves in and out of relationship with land and with people in the most incredible, honest way, all the while becoming more aware of who she is and what she needs in life.
She seems to find that she, like all human creatures, is a walking contradiction and that even once she’s decided who she is, her mind and heart are capable of both drastic and subtle, step-by-step change. In her memoirs, Morris is simultaneously vulnerable and indestructible, avoidant and confrontational, helplessly lost and forever at home.
Gorgeous from cover to cover.
Nothing to Declare paints a picture of a woman finding herself as she explores the world. She moves in and out of relationship with land and with people in the most incredible, honest way, all the while becoming more aware of who she is and what she needs in life.
She seems to find that she, like all human creatures, is a walking contradiction and that even once she’s decided who she is, her mind and heart are capable of both drastic and subtle, step-by-step change. In her memoirs, Morris is simultaneously vulnerable and indestructible, avoidant and confrontational, helplessly lost and forever at home.
Gorgeous from cover to cover.
December 19, 2008
I had to read this one back in college for a women's lit class. We spent the semester focusing on memoir/travel writers, and this was definitely a stand out. Mary Morris is a participator, not simply an observer. She unveils the true gritty, poignant and complicated lives of the inhabitants of San Miguel, Mexico, as she attempts to come to grips with her own personal demons and disappointments. In the course of her stay, she re-discovers her identity and personal strength. I absolutely loved Morris's direct, simple, yet beautiful imagery. And this is the kind of traveling I would love to do, but would need 30 lifetimes to accomplish. Spending months or years in a town getting to know what it's truly like to live there and be part of its unique community. Sigh....
May 16, 2019
One reader commented that Morris is the most "self-honest" person he knows. And I gotta concur. I've never read any woman author like her. She is on par with the other great travel writer I've read extensively: V.S. Naipaul. The only difference is: She privatizes space--colonizes it for her own personal purposes, connecting it to herstory--whereas he analyzes space to discover mankind's relation to it.
I can almost imagine the Nobel Committee saying of her "...for her personalization of space, her..." I am baffled Morris is so little known. I came across her through a story she published in the VQR. Could be her agent--her website contains numerous typos, fragmentary, redundant sentences--so I am inclined to think he/she has not marketed Morris well enough.
Regardless, an amazing book without an agenda. Just a simple story of a woman's search for her place in this world.
I can almost imagine the Nobel Committee saying of her "...for her personalization of space, her..." I am baffled Morris is so little known. I came across her through a story she published in the VQR. Could be her agent--her website contains numerous typos, fragmentary, redundant sentences--so I am inclined to think he/she has not marketed Morris well enough.
Regardless, an amazing book without an agenda. Just a simple story of a woman's search for her place in this world.
May 19, 2014
Very strong first-person narrative of a woman traveling and living in Mexico in times when this was not so common. Beautiful.
June 13, 2018
This book had a nice dreamlike flow that followed the transience of travel and made for an easy read, but Morris was really an unlikeable character. The bits and pieces about Mayan and Aztec culture were interesting and inspired further research on my end, but seemed like afterthought and were largely drowned out by vain, despairing and somewhat boring self-reflections. She witnessed and experienced some really moving things and there was no processing of any of it. She would just write it matter-of-factly and move on. Her experimentation with magical realism fell short. This is the story of a woman paid to write a book and so lived cheaply in Mexico with some travel here and there, logged her experience and published it. Someone please get me this gig! There was nothing to declare, as promised in the title.
March 30, 2021
I really wish Goodreads would let you add a note on your want to read list about where you got the idea to read a book. This would have been so helpful to me in this case.
Morris is the real deal, one of her mentors was Joyce Carol Oates and she teaches at Sarah Lawrence. However in this memoir she comes across as a moody, petulant American traveling Central America rather aimlessly. I love her descriptions of the landscape, flora and fauna but her relationships with Mexicans and Americans are all pretty prickly save for her next door neighbor Lupe.
Morris is the real deal, one of her mentors was Joyce Carol Oates and she teaches at Sarah Lawrence. However in this memoir she comes across as a moody, petulant American traveling Central America rather aimlessly. I love her descriptions of the landscape, flora and fauna but her relationships with Mexicans and Americans are all pretty prickly save for her next door neighbor Lupe.
April 20, 2021
If you are a woman who has have traveled alone or desired too, you will love this.
November 5, 2016
A great travelogue, Something to Declare coverts Mary Morris' travels in Central America in the 80s. It was written soon after that (published in 88) which made me wish I had a copy with a new afterword for a little more perspective (not sure such a thing exists).
In general I liked the book, enjoyed reading about her adventures, but disliked about half of the spiritual stuff and musings on her personal life. I liked the other half, though. It was interesting to read about someone who hated being alone and who was in fact for most of the book with other people - especially as I had picked up the book because I specifically wanted to read about women traveling alone. Even when Morris was traveling alone, she quickly made friends with people she met, so her experiences of real solitude seem to be restricted to finding herself feel in a jungle one afternoon and a few other short specific times.
It was interesting also to read about her relationship issues and how she had a hard time with men. I was not expecting to find that in this book. It also contributed to my wanting a little more perspective, as the flap says she lives with her husband and daughter, but the book ends with her being about to leave Mexico. It reminds me of how Wild gives us a little fast forward which helps with the conclusion. I wanted to know more about how Morris changed as a result of her travels and how she overcame her relationship issues.
In general I liked the book, enjoyed reading about her adventures, but disliked about half of the spiritual stuff and musings on her personal life. I liked the other half, though. It was interesting to read about someone who hated being alone and who was in fact for most of the book with other people - especially as I had picked up the book because I specifically wanted to read about women traveling alone. Even when Morris was traveling alone, she quickly made friends with people she met, so her experiences of real solitude seem to be restricted to finding herself feel in a jungle one afternoon and a few other short specific times.
It was interesting also to read about her relationship issues and how she had a hard time with men. I was not expecting to find that in this book. It also contributed to my wanting a little more perspective, as the flap says she lives with her husband and daughter, but the book ends with her being about to leave Mexico. It reminds me of how Wild gives us a little fast forward which helps with the conclusion. I wanted to know more about how Morris changed as a result of her travels and how she overcame her relationship issues.
August 26, 2015
I am disappointed that I have to give this book 3 stars. I really, really wanted to like it. A travelogue! About Mexico! By a woman! Basically my dream book.
But Morris herself ruins it. She is conceited and very difficult to like. I wanted to know more about Mexico and less about her search for love and/or companionship.
Case in point (mild spoiler): there is a scene where her neighbor friend's daughter spills bloody diarrhea in the kitchen and Morris' response, while concerned for the girl, is to return to lamenting about her semi-boyfriend. No reflection or further concern for her.
Recommended, but with reservations.
But Morris herself ruins it. She is conceited and very difficult to like. I wanted to know more about Mexico and less about her search for love and/or companionship.
Case in point (mild spoiler): there is a scene where her neighbor friend's daughter spills bloody diarrhea in the kitchen and Morris' response, while concerned for the girl, is to return to lamenting about her semi-boyfriend. No reflection or further concern for her.
Recommended, but with reservations.
March 30, 2018
I read this book at a moment when I was in mourning for another book, with a head full of thoughts I was processing. I was in transition and Mary Morris' book capture this state of transition perfectly. She wanders through Mexico finding the questions she needs to ask, resisting answering a number of them, and attempting to make a relationship with the landscape and people she meets, but never really achieving any depth of connection. Morris was a perfect companion; she asked little of me, she was entertaining and she took me to places I now long to visit - we were tourists together, but never anything deeper.
April 22, 2011
A great travel book about one woman's travels through Latin America. She shows you the raw real side of living and traveling in Latin America. No fluffed up sugar coated stuff here. At times through out the book I was thinking to myself I can't believe she just did that she must have a death wish, she is crazy. And other times in the book I could really relate to some of her situations and it touched me way deep down inside. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who likes to travel.
August 17, 2013
Really fun read. I was hoping to be inspired to travel in Mexico and Central America. Mexico, a bit, but Morris writes of Central America in the late 1970's early 1980's - an interesting time to be traveling. Her run-in with a revolutionary subcomandante was particularly riveting. Would like to read some of her fiction now.
May 30, 2021
Bravely cruel writing. Well documented misery and interior journey that leaves metaphor alone and uses place and method of transportation well. Published in 1988, these days it would just be a more than usually compelling blog. This makes me wonder; is our collective bar raising, with self-publishing changing the literary scene? How would I know, I read crap.
March 17, 2009
I read this book while travelling in Mexico this last December, and it was the perfect travel companion: insightful, introspective, at times funny and often profound.
August 28, 2015
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October 13, 2015Donated to DPL October 2015
August 4, 2021
A bit odd but intriguing, I felt like there was a bit more to this story that was left untold ��.
February 7, 2022
This is a very well-written, engrossing book. I found it fascinating to read about the places in Mexico and Central America that the author visited back in the 1980s, and I wondered how those places have changed -- or stayed the same -- in the years since. As others have said, the book is over 30 years old and there are problematic parts such as racist depictions and stereotyping. But overall I really enjoyed going on this journey with Morris and thinking about what it was like then (and now) for a woman traveling by herself, especially without the ability to look up information on the fly (no cell phone or laptop!) to make plans or research her destinations. She certainly wasn't always likable or kind, but I liked that she revealed that about herself; she was honest and self-reflective about her journey. I look forward to reading her other books.
Some choice passages that resonated with me:
"How do you know if you are a traveler? What are the telltale signs? As with most compulsions, such as being a gambler, a kleptomaniac, or a writer, the obvious proof is that you can't stop. If you are hooked, you are hooked. One sure sign of travelers is their relationship to maps. I cannot say how much of my life I have spent looking at maps, but there is no map I won't stare at and study . . . I love to look at a map, even if it is a map of Mars, and figure out where I am going and how I am going to get there, what route I will take. I imagine what adventures might await me even though I know the journey is never what we plan for; it's what happens between the lines." (p. 22)
"In my life I have known every joy and every sorry and each has been short-lived. I have known what I thought to be great love and tremendous loss. I have wandered in the labyrinth of myself and thought that somehow I was living life intensely, with deep feeling. Now I know differently. I was a victim of the forces outside myself, and more that, I was a victim to my ego. I knew it was the ego that blocked the soul. Joy and despair were mere reflections of how well I fared in the world. But in San Miguel, with Lupe and the children and the animals, I found something else, and it was not so short lived. . . . for me it had become everything. I was simply enjoying the experience of being, of living without goal or expectation, without longing or desire. I was happy when I was there -- happy just to be." (p. 137-138).
Some choice passages that resonated with me:
"How do you know if you are a traveler? What are the telltale signs? As with most compulsions, such as being a gambler, a kleptomaniac, or a writer, the obvious proof is that you can't stop. If you are hooked, you are hooked. One sure sign of travelers is their relationship to maps. I cannot say how much of my life I have spent looking at maps, but there is no map I won't stare at and study . . . I love to look at a map, even if it is a map of Mars, and figure out where I am going and how I am going to get there, what route I will take. I imagine what adventures might await me even though I know the journey is never what we plan for; it's what happens between the lines." (p. 22)
"In my life I have known every joy and every sorry and each has been short-lived. I have known what I thought to be great love and tremendous loss. I have wandered in the labyrinth of myself and thought that somehow I was living life intensely, with deep feeling. Now I know differently. I was a victim of the forces outside myself, and more that, I was a victim to my ego. I knew it was the ego that blocked the soul. Joy and despair were mere reflections of how well I fared in the world. But in San Miguel, with Lupe and the children and the animals, I found something else, and it was not so short lived. . . . for me it had become everything. I was simply enjoying the experience of being, of living without goal or expectation, without longing or desire. I was happy when I was there -- happy just to be." (p. 137-138).
January 4, 2018
Review from my blog post "4 TRAVEL BOOKS FOR YOUR SUMMER (2017)"
In the 1980s, Morris leaves New York, her life and its ghosts, and ends up in San Miguel, Mexico, near the US border, with a writing grant. The book is about her temporary life there, her trips around Central America and the people she met on the way.
In 2016, I held my copy, standing in a second-hand bookshop in Whitehorse, Yukon. I clenched my teeth, as I felt negative anticipation. Under the title, I could read "Memoirs of a woman traveling alone". This badly sounded like a book in which a privileged white American woman seeks adventure in an exotic country, conveniently cheap and located nextdoor to her home country. But I gave the book a chance. And what I found in its pages, is nothing short of spectacular writing.
Nothing To Declare is raw sensations. It is unfiltered subjectivity, which makes it unique, precious. However, this also made it very irritating to a substantial amount of readers.
Morris weaves her travel experience into a narrative. She writes about events and people exactly as she felt about them, unapologetically, and sometimes in an ethereal, dreamlike, "detached" manner that reflects her personal style of writing — but that may have been interpreted as insensitivity. On the other hand, Morris develops a special relationship with her neighbor Lupe. Thoughout the book, it is clear they both know of the cultural and social gap that exists between them. And yet, their "womanness" binds them together, resulting in reflections on what it is to be a woman: a woman lost, a woman found, a woman traveling alone out of her privileged comfort zone.
I truly loved this book for its literary qualities, its "indirect feminism", and the deep love of traveling it conveys. I thought it was beautiful travel writing, and I didn't find it insensitive at all. I thought it was straightforward, honest, reckless, and personal. Morris is traveling for herself, to find herself, to write for herself. The fact that she is a woman may have fed different "expectations" in the audience. Maybe did we expect more modesty, caution, and motherly care? Well, tough luck.
Carrie Speaking,
Travel Writer, Blogger.
http://carriespeaking.com
In the 1980s, Morris leaves New York, her life and its ghosts, and ends up in San Miguel, Mexico, near the US border, with a writing grant. The book is about her temporary life there, her trips around Central America and the people she met on the way.
In 2016, I held my copy, standing in a second-hand bookshop in Whitehorse, Yukon. I clenched my teeth, as I felt negative anticipation. Under the title, I could read "Memoirs of a woman traveling alone". This badly sounded like a book in which a privileged white American woman seeks adventure in an exotic country, conveniently cheap and located nextdoor to her home country. But I gave the book a chance. And what I found in its pages, is nothing short of spectacular writing.
Nothing To Declare is raw sensations. It is unfiltered subjectivity, which makes it unique, precious. However, this also made it very irritating to a substantial amount of readers.
Morris weaves her travel experience into a narrative. She writes about events and people exactly as she felt about them, unapologetically, and sometimes in an ethereal, dreamlike, "detached" manner that reflects her personal style of writing — but that may have been interpreted as insensitivity. On the other hand, Morris develops a special relationship with her neighbor Lupe. Thoughout the book, it is clear they both know of the cultural and social gap that exists between them. And yet, their "womanness" binds them together, resulting in reflections on what it is to be a woman: a woman lost, a woman found, a woman traveling alone out of her privileged comfort zone.
I truly loved this book for its literary qualities, its "indirect feminism", and the deep love of traveling it conveys. I thought it was beautiful travel writing, and I didn't find it insensitive at all. I thought it was straightforward, honest, reckless, and personal. Morris is traveling for herself, to find herself, to write for herself. The fact that she is a woman may have fed different "expectations" in the audience. Maybe did we expect more modesty, caution, and motherly care? Well, tough luck.
Carrie Speaking,
Travel Writer, Blogger.
http://carriespeaking.com
November 2, 2023
"TRAVELING FROM THE HIGHLAND desert of northern Mexico to the steaming jungles of Honduras, from the seashore of the Caribbean to the exquisite highlands of Guatemala, Mary Morris confronts the realities of place, of poverty, of machismo, and of her own self. As she experiences the rawness and precariousness of life in another culture, Morris begins to hear echoes of her own life and her own sense of deprivation. And she begins, too, to overcome the struggles of the past that have held her back. By crossing new boundaries, she learns to set new frontiers for herself as a woman."
From the title, I though this book would be about a woman traveling the world, perhaps with nothing but a backpack. But obviously, from the descriptive precis, that's not this book; this book is about a woman who moves to Mexico, becomes as embroiled with the local people as is possible for a norteamericana and who does little to explore the broader reaches of the land or the people.
It's a somewhat depressing story -- a story of extreme poverty, of a machismo culture that keeps women subservient, of the privilege inherent in being a rich visitor to a poor country. It's a depressing story of a woman who doesn't know what she wants, who she is, nor where she's going -- literally and figuratively. But for all that, it's a true snapshot of life in Mexico for Mexicans, and that's a story that should be told more often, and more vividly.
From the title, I though this book would be about a woman traveling the world, perhaps with nothing but a backpack. But obviously, from the descriptive precis, that's not this book; this book is about a woman who moves to Mexico, becomes as embroiled with the local people as is possible for a norteamericana and who does little to explore the broader reaches of the land or the people.
It's a somewhat depressing story -- a story of extreme poverty, of a machismo culture that keeps women subservient, of the privilege inherent in being a rich visitor to a poor country. It's a depressing story of a woman who doesn't know what she wants, who she is, nor where she's going -- literally and figuratively. But for all that, it's a true snapshot of life in Mexico for Mexicans, and that's a story that should be told more often, and more vividly.
April 30, 2025
"Nothing to Declare" isn’t the kind of travel memoir that’s full of flashy adventures or picture-perfect postcards, and honestly, that’s what makes it so compelling. Mary Morris doesn’t try to glamorize the solo female travel experience. Instead, she gives us something far more intimate: the quiet, often uncomfortable truths that come with being alone in a foreign place, especially as a woman.
Her writing is thoughtful and observant, sometimes sharp, sometimes soft, always honest. You feel her solitude, her restlessness, her complicated relationship with both the world around her and the one she left behind. There were passages that hit me right in the gut, like she was naming something I didn’t even know I’d felt.
The pacing isn’t always steady. Some chapters feel a bit meandering, and there were moments where I wished for more emotional depth or clearer insight into her inner world. But maybe that’s part of the charm. it’s not a polished story arc, it’s a life in motion.
If you’ve ever felt the push and pull of wanting to run away and still needing to belong somewhere, this book will speak to you. It’s not loud, but it lingers.
Her writing is thoughtful and observant, sometimes sharp, sometimes soft, always honest. You feel her solitude, her restlessness, her complicated relationship with both the world around her and the one she left behind. There were passages that hit me right in the gut, like she was naming something I didn’t even know I’d felt.
The pacing isn’t always steady. Some chapters feel a bit meandering, and there were moments where I wished for more emotional depth or clearer insight into her inner world. But maybe that’s part of the charm. it’s not a polished story arc, it’s a life in motion.
If you’ve ever felt the push and pull of wanting to run away and still needing to belong somewhere, this book will speak to you. It’s not loud, but it lingers.
May 9, 2021
Ms. Morris does an adequate job chronicling a part of the world that holds no magic for me at all. Two stars only because I couldn't grow to love the places she experienced, or respect the people she encountered and befriended on her journey. I also had a squirmy sense of her entitlement, to which she was entirely oblivious. She did have a smidgeon of empathy for her neighbor, Lupe; I suspect that was due in part to Lupe being her cultural navigator. The squalor and filth she met with daily might have provided an avenue for growth for her, but all it managed to do for me is affirm my own experience forty five years prior. Such a shame that nothing changes for the better in the countries south of our border, though you'd think we'd get a clue from the streams of hopeful refugees that keep trying to enter the US. It just left me depressed, and wondering why on earth she didn't pack up and go home months sooner. Then I needed a bath.
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