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A Pilgrimage to Angkor
The French travel writer and exotic novelist Pierre Loti (1850–1923), in his day the youngest member elected to the Academie Francaise, had dreamt of visiting the ruins of Angkor when, as a child, he came across illustrations of them among some papers belonging to his elder brother, who had served in Indochina in the navy. Loti, whose real name was Julien Viaud, was a full-time professional naval officer and was able to realize his childhood dream of going to Angkor in 1901 when his ship stayed some time in Indochinese waters.
Though the time he spent at Angkor was brief, he writes captivatingly about the glory of the temples and their magnificent reliefs hidden in the jungle. He was also able to visit a royal mausoleum built by King Norodom, and describes a reception given for him at the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh on his return journey to Saigon.
Loti’s book first appeared in French in 1912 and was translated into English the following year, with the inappropriate title Siam. Michael Smithies has revised this translation, adding footnotes and a new Introduction.
Though the time he spent at Angkor was brief, he writes captivatingly about the glory of the temples and their magnificent reliefs hidden in the jungle. He was also able to visit a royal mausoleum built by King Norodom, and describes a reception given for him at the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh on his return journey to Saigon.
Loti’s book first appeared in French in 1912 and was translated into English the following year, with the inappropriate title Siam. Michael Smithies has revised this translation, adding footnotes and a new Introduction.
130 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1911
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About the author
Pierre Loti
798 books82 followersLouis Marie-Julien Viaud was a writer, who used the pseudonym Pierre Loti.
Viaud was born in Rochefort, Charente-Maritime, France, to an old Protestant family. His education began in Rochefort, but at the age of seventeen, being destined for the navy, he entered the naval school in Brest and studied on Le Borda. He gradually rose in his profession, attaining the rank of captain in 1906. In January 1910 he went on the reserve list.
His pseudonym has been said to be due to his extreme shyness and reserve in early life, which made his comrades call him after "le Loti", an Indian flower which loves to blush unseen. Other explanations have been put forth by scholars. It is also said that he got the name in Tahiti where he got a sun burn and was called Roti (because he was all red like a local flower), he couldn't pronounce the r well so he stuck with Loti. He was in the habit of claiming that he never read books (when he was received at the Académie française, he said, "Loti ne sait pas lire" ("Loti doesn't know how to read"), but testimony from friends and acquaintances proves otherwise, as does his library, much of which is preserved in his house in Rochefort. In 1876 fellow naval officers persuaded him to turn into a novel passages in his diary dealing with some curious experiences at Istanbul. The result was Aziyadé, a novel which, like so many of Loti's, is part romance, part autobiography, like the work of his admirer, Marcel Proust, after him. (There is a popular cafe in current-day Istanbul dedicated to the time Loti spent in Turkey.) He proceeded to the South Seas as part of his naval training, and several years after leaving Tahiti published the Polynesian idyll originally named Rarahu (1880), which was reprinted as Le Mariage de Loti, the first book to introduce him to the wider public. This was followed by Le Roman d'un spahi (1881), a record of the melancholy adventures of a soldier in Senegambia.
Loti on the day of his reception at the Académie française on 7 April, 1892. In 1882, Loti issued a collection of four shorter pieces, three stories and a travel piece, under the general title of Fleurs d'ennui (Flowers of Boredom).
In 1883 he entered the wider public spotlight. First, he publish the critically acclaimed Mon frere Yves (My Brother Yves), a novel describing the life of a French naval officer (Pierre Loti), and a Breton sailor (Yves Kermadec), described by Edmund Gosse as "one of his most characteristic productions".[1] Second, while taking part as a naval officer in the undeclared hostilities that preceded the outbreak of the Sino-French War (August 1884 to April 1885), Loti wrote an article in the newspaper Le Figaro about atrocities that occurred during the French bombardment of the Thuan An forts that guarded the approaches to Hue (August 1883), and was threatened with suspension from the service, thus gaining wider public notoriety.
In 1886 he published a novel of life among the Breton fisherfolk, called Pêcheur d'Islande (Iceland Fisherman), which Edmund Gosse characterized as "the most popular and finest of all his writings."[1] It shows Loti adapting some of the Impressionist techniques of contemporary painters, especially Monet, to prose, and is a classic of French literature. In 1887 he brought out a volume "of extraordinary merit, which has not received the attention it deserves",[1] Propos d'exil, a series of short studies of exotic places, in his characteristic semi-autobiographic style. The novel of Japanese manners, Madame Chrysanthème— a precursor to Madame Butterfly and Miss Saigon and a work that is a combination of narrative and travelog— was published the same year.
During 1890 he published Au Maroc, the record of a journey to Fez in company with a French embassy, and Le Roman d'un enfant (The Story of a Child), a somewhat fictionalized recollection of Loti's childhood that would greatly influence Marcel Proust. A collection
Viaud was born in Rochefort, Charente-Maritime, France, to an old Protestant family. His education began in Rochefort, but at the age of seventeen, being destined for the navy, he entered the naval school in Brest and studied on Le Borda. He gradually rose in his profession, attaining the rank of captain in 1906. In January 1910 he went on the reserve list.
His pseudonym has been said to be due to his extreme shyness and reserve in early life, which made his comrades call him after "le Loti", an Indian flower which loves to blush unseen. Other explanations have been put forth by scholars. It is also said that he got the name in Tahiti where he got a sun burn and was called Roti (because he was all red like a local flower), he couldn't pronounce the r well so he stuck with Loti. He was in the habit of claiming that he never read books (when he was received at the Académie française, he said, "Loti ne sait pas lire" ("Loti doesn't know how to read"), but testimony from friends and acquaintances proves otherwise, as does his library, much of which is preserved in his house in Rochefort. In 1876 fellow naval officers persuaded him to turn into a novel passages in his diary dealing with some curious experiences at Istanbul. The result was Aziyadé, a novel which, like so many of Loti's, is part romance, part autobiography, like the work of his admirer, Marcel Proust, after him. (There is a popular cafe in current-day Istanbul dedicated to the time Loti spent in Turkey.) He proceeded to the South Seas as part of his naval training, and several years after leaving Tahiti published the Polynesian idyll originally named Rarahu (1880), which was reprinted as Le Mariage de Loti, the first book to introduce him to the wider public. This was followed by Le Roman d'un spahi (1881), a record of the melancholy adventures of a soldier in Senegambia.
Loti on the day of his reception at the Académie française on 7 April, 1892. In 1882, Loti issued a collection of four shorter pieces, three stories and a travel piece, under the general title of Fleurs d'ennui (Flowers of Boredom).
In 1883 he entered the wider public spotlight. First, he publish the critically acclaimed Mon frere Yves (My Brother Yves), a novel describing the life of a French naval officer (Pierre Loti), and a Breton sailor (Yves Kermadec), described by Edmund Gosse as "one of his most characteristic productions".[1] Second, while taking part as a naval officer in the undeclared hostilities that preceded the outbreak of the Sino-French War (August 1884 to April 1885), Loti wrote an article in the newspaper Le Figaro about atrocities that occurred during the French bombardment of the Thuan An forts that guarded the approaches to Hue (August 1883), and was threatened with suspension from the service, thus gaining wider public notoriety.
In 1886 he published a novel of life among the Breton fisherfolk, called Pêcheur d'Islande (Iceland Fisherman), which Edmund Gosse characterized as "the most popular and finest of all his writings."[1] It shows Loti adapting some of the Impressionist techniques of contemporary painters, especially Monet, to prose, and is a classic of French literature. In 1887 he brought out a volume "of extraordinary merit, which has not received the attention it deserves",[1] Propos d'exil, a series of short studies of exotic places, in his characteristic semi-autobiographic style. The novel of Japanese manners, Madame Chrysanthème— a precursor to Madame Butterfly and Miss Saigon and a work that is a combination of narrative and travelog— was published the same year.
During 1890 he published Au Maroc, the record of a journey to Fez in company with a French embassy, and Le Roman d'un enfant (The Story of a Child), a somewhat fictionalized recollection of Loti's childhood that would greatly influence Marcel Proust. A collection
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
September 5, 2019
Pierre Loti da bambino vede su una rivista un'immagine dei templi cambogiani di Angkor e ripromette a se stesso che un giorno li vedrà coi suoi occhi. Non è più giovane quando realizza questo suo desiderio e viaggiando in parte via terra e in parte navigando sul Mekong raggiunge i templi di Angkor. Allora le rovine erano sommerse dalla giungla, infestate da insetti e animali eppure la loro bellezza, pur con diffidenza, riesce a coinvolgere Loti, che resta sbalordito di fronte a tanta magnificenza, testimone di una cultura ormai dimenticata. Letto in occasione del mio viaggio in Cambogia, mi ha fatta viaggiare nel tempo all'epoca in cui i templi erano quasi irraggiungibili (c'erano addirittura le tigri, nella giungla) e certamente accessibili a pochi fortunati. La scrittura di Loti è evocativa, fa rivivere il viaggio sul fiume, il caldo, gli insetti, gli odori e le sensazioni. E non risparmia una stoccata alla Francia coloniale e all'assurdità e crudeltà dell'avere un impero.
January 18, 2025
Um excelente relato da experiência do autor em Angkor, no início do século XX.
August 8, 2018
A few nostalgic and not too simple descriptions of Angkor temples but overall a colonialist and arrogant pseudo-rendering of Khmer monuments, culture and people. Might be fun when one is into that kind of literature, I am for one but this was too painful to read even for a Turkish girl well acquainted with Loti.
February 17, 2022
Un libro, un vero e proprio diario di bordo, che mi ha trasportato per qualche ora, nell’altra parte del mondo, pur restando a leggere sul mio letto. Che meraviglia! L'autore, racconta i particolari del suo viaggio, che si mescolano ad elementi che verranno tradotti in una profonda lezione di saggezza e filantropia: dalle antiche rovine degli Khmer agli esotici villaggi sulle rive del Mekong.
February 3, 2019
Un récit en guise de bon remède à la froidure de cette saison, des souvenirs loin d’être ruminés pour rien, exprimés en descriptifs très justes et mystiques à la fois, laissant la part belle à l’enchantement de la nature et des bizarreries enveloppant les coins, recoins du temps d’Angkor.
« Au fond des forêts du Siam, j’ai vu l’étoile du soir se lever sur les grandes ruines d’Angkor. »
Chansonnette clichée qui retentit dans l’oreille et marque l’esprit le long de ce récit de Pierre Loti, elle renvoie automatiquement aux charmes historiques et naturels enfouis de la Cambodge.
Et puis, pas sidérant le fait qu’il soit de l’œuvre de Pierre Loti, dont l’empreinte littéraire est souvent pour ne pas dire – constamment – inspirée de ses voyages à travers le monde.
« Un Pèlerin d’Angkor » est une fresque tournant autour d’un pèlerinage inextricable et suave à la fois au fin fond des forêts du Siam : Un périple déroulé au large du Mékong en commençant par Siagon au Vietnam, longeant Pnom-Peh et transperçant les étendues forestières vierges de Siem-Reap à la découverte du majestueux temps d’Angkor.
« Les grandes figures de Brahma, « les vieilles dames débonnaires », si sournoises et peu rassurantes l’autre soir dans le crépuscule, je les retrouve là partout au-dessus de ma tête, avec ces sourires qui tombent sur moi, d’entre les fougères et les racines. Elles sont bien plus nombreuses que je croyais ; jusque sur les tours les plus lointaines, j’en aperçois toujours, coiffées de couronnes et le cou ceint de colliers. Mais, en plein jour, combien elles ont perdu de leur pouvoir effarant ! Ce matin elles semblent me dire : « Nous sommes bien mortes, va, et bien inoffensives ; ce n’est pas d’ironie que nous sourions ainsi les paupières closes ; non, c’est parce que nous avons à présent la paix sans rêves… »
En début de récit, l’on remarque le fort engouement de l’auteur pour ce site – du temps de son enfance – et sa passion pour sa découverte exprimée sous forme d’un vœu ardent, et qui fut réalisé à la suite de sa mission en Indochine du temps de l’occupation française dans ces contrées.
Et c’est dans la peau que l’on sent cette ardeur et vibrations du cœur aux toutes premières descriptions : La chaleur suffocante, le vrombissement des insectes, les odeurs capiteuses des plantes tropicales, la grandeur époustouflante des racines et arbres du territoire. C’est ce trait de mysticisme qui m’a le plus captivé dans ces descriptions, comme emporté sur un nuage de splendeur, où émerveillement et sensualité ne font qu’un !
« Des monstres, en pierre verdâtre, assis dans des poses de chien et coiffés à la mode sans doute de quelque planète sans communication avec la nôtre, m’accueillent avec des regards par trop étranges, avec des rictus jamais vus même dans les vieux sanctuaires chinois d’où j’arrive : « Nous ne te connaissons pas, me disent-ils. Nous sommes des conceptions à jamais inassimilables pour toi. Que viens-tu faire chez nous ? Va-t’en ! »
Dédié à Shiva et vénéré par le peuple des khmers, le temps d’Angkor et ses tours imposantes représentent le pan d’une histoire ensevelie sous les airs nostalgiques et qui ressort à travers les ruines, les figures sculptées sur la Pierre, la majesté des bâtisses et les interprétations des transcriptions qu’en font guides et autres nomades.
« Tous les monstres en sentinelle sont couverts de ciselures dorées et de facettes de cristal, qui leur font des costumes de grand apparat, un peu défraîchis, il est vrai, par les ans, et tachetés de moisissure grise ; quant à leurs visages, ils nous sont déjà connus ; ils ont été copiés sur les bas-reliefs millénaires d’Angkor-Vat. Mais pourquoi ces attitudes convulsées par le rire macabre, dans ce lieu de l’apaisement suprême ? Pour nous, quel abîme de mystère, qu’une telle conception des tombeaux … »
Vestiges et illusions perdues. Loti n’en fut que charmé et triste à son retour en France : En témoignent les derniers paragraphes dans lesquels il revient inlassablement à ses documents et œuvres aux feuilles jaunies, admirant les photos du temple d’Angkor de plus et à travers lui un hommage à l’histoire du peuple du Ramayana.
« Au fond des forêts du Siam, j’ai vu l’étoile du soir se lever sur les grandes ruines d’Angkor. »
Chansonnette clichée qui retentit dans l’oreille et marque l’esprit le long de ce récit de Pierre Loti, elle renvoie automatiquement aux charmes historiques et naturels enfouis de la Cambodge.
Et puis, pas sidérant le fait qu’il soit de l’œuvre de Pierre Loti, dont l’empreinte littéraire est souvent pour ne pas dire – constamment – inspirée de ses voyages à travers le monde.
« Un Pèlerin d’Angkor » est une fresque tournant autour d’un pèlerinage inextricable et suave à la fois au fin fond des forêts du Siam : Un périple déroulé au large du Mékong en commençant par Siagon au Vietnam, longeant Pnom-Peh et transperçant les étendues forestières vierges de Siem-Reap à la découverte du majestueux temps d’Angkor.
« Les grandes figures de Brahma, « les vieilles dames débonnaires », si sournoises et peu rassurantes l’autre soir dans le crépuscule, je les retrouve là partout au-dessus de ma tête, avec ces sourires qui tombent sur moi, d’entre les fougères et les racines. Elles sont bien plus nombreuses que je croyais ; jusque sur les tours les plus lointaines, j’en aperçois toujours, coiffées de couronnes et le cou ceint de colliers. Mais, en plein jour, combien elles ont perdu de leur pouvoir effarant ! Ce matin elles semblent me dire : « Nous sommes bien mortes, va, et bien inoffensives ; ce n’est pas d’ironie que nous sourions ainsi les paupières closes ; non, c’est parce que nous avons à présent la paix sans rêves… »
En début de récit, l’on remarque le fort engouement de l’auteur pour ce site – du temps de son enfance – et sa passion pour sa découverte exprimée sous forme d’un vœu ardent, et qui fut réalisé à la suite de sa mission en Indochine du temps de l’occupation française dans ces contrées.
Et c’est dans la peau que l’on sent cette ardeur et vibrations du cœur aux toutes premières descriptions : La chaleur suffocante, le vrombissement des insectes, les odeurs capiteuses des plantes tropicales, la grandeur époustouflante des racines et arbres du territoire. C’est ce trait de mysticisme qui m’a le plus captivé dans ces descriptions, comme emporté sur un nuage de splendeur, où émerveillement et sensualité ne font qu’un !
« Des monstres, en pierre verdâtre, assis dans des poses de chien et coiffés à la mode sans doute de quelque planète sans communication avec la nôtre, m’accueillent avec des regards par trop étranges, avec des rictus jamais vus même dans les vieux sanctuaires chinois d’où j’arrive : « Nous ne te connaissons pas, me disent-ils. Nous sommes des conceptions à jamais inassimilables pour toi. Que viens-tu faire chez nous ? Va-t’en ! »
Dédié à Shiva et vénéré par le peuple des khmers, le temps d’Angkor et ses tours imposantes représentent le pan d’une histoire ensevelie sous les airs nostalgiques et qui ressort à travers les ruines, les figures sculptées sur la Pierre, la majesté des bâtisses et les interprétations des transcriptions qu’en font guides et autres nomades.
« Tous les monstres en sentinelle sont couverts de ciselures dorées et de facettes de cristal, qui leur font des costumes de grand apparat, un peu défraîchis, il est vrai, par les ans, et tachetés de moisissure grise ; quant à leurs visages, ils nous sont déjà connus ; ils ont été copiés sur les bas-reliefs millénaires d’Angkor-Vat. Mais pourquoi ces attitudes convulsées par le rire macabre, dans ce lieu de l’apaisement suprême ? Pour nous, quel abîme de mystère, qu’une telle conception des tombeaux … »
Vestiges et illusions perdues. Loti n’en fut que charmé et triste à son retour en France : En témoignent les derniers paragraphes dans lesquels il revient inlassablement à ses documents et œuvres aux feuilles jaunies, admirant les photos du temple d’Angkor de plus et à travers lui un hommage à l’histoire du peuple du Ramayana.
February 2, 2016
A haunting little book. The descriptions of Angkor Thom and Angkor Vat are very striking and accurate, in the sense that I experienced the exact same emotions while visiting those sites a couple of weeks ago. The diary of Loti's "pilgrimage" is framed by unforgettable scenes in his childhood home of Rochefort-sur-Mer. In the opening scene, he explains how he had set up what he called his "museum" within the parental home, where he kept items that spurred his imagination and foretold future travels. His brother having died in Indochina, his parents were determined to keep their second son at home. In spite of their wishes, Loti, who was still called Julien Viaud back then, had no doubt at all that one day he would travel the world and specifically visit the mysterious Angkor. This promise to himself he fulfills in 1901, when he is all of 51 years old, which doesn't prevent him from describing it as "le soir de ma vie errante"! The text concludes with an afterword dated 1910 which contains some of the most beautiful pages ever written on the transience of human life, like a miniature "Recherche du temps Perdu".
I was also surprised (my ignorance, surely), by the strong denunciation of the French colonial project contained in these pages. From the dedication to president Paul Doumer right until the end Loti expresses complete disapproval of the colonial enterprise, which he sees as costing young lives for nothing as the French hold on the Far east is not sustainable.
In other words, this book is a true little gem.
I was also surprised (my ignorance, surely), by the strong denunciation of the French colonial project contained in these pages. From the dedication to president Paul Doumer right until the end Loti expresses complete disapproval of the colonial enterprise, which he sees as costing young lives for nothing as the French hold on the Far east is not sustainable.
In other words, this book is a true little gem.
May 2, 2019
A lyrical account of the discovery of a world wonder by a travel writer, a dreamer, an adventurer who recalls what Angkor was like at the beginning of the XXth century. The almighty power of nature, the true character of this story makes the place even more mysterious and menacing. It casts a spell on the then French army officer. Wonderment and fright are always close to disgust and surprise, admitting at times he's at loss as to how to understand such alien cultures and beliefs, yet fascinated by them and unable to shake the spell.
Melancholy, beauty, mystery : Loti takes our hand to take us through an underworld that has yet to yield its best guarded secrets.
Melancholy, beauty, mystery : Loti takes our hand to take us through an underworld that has yet to yield its best guarded secrets.
March 11, 2025
Un très bon livre à la 1ère personne qui décrit la découverte du temple d'Angkor.
Plusieurs descriptions m'ont particulièrement frappé :
Tout d'abord, la description du périple lui-même pour arriver au temple d'Angkor, un pèlerinage il est vrai, assez éprouvant, en particulier lorsque l'explorateur s'enfonce littéralement dans la jungle, comme happé par la végétation, pour se retrouver dans un endroit hors du temps et de l'espace, sorte de vestige d'un jardin d'Eden exotique, que sont les ruines d'Angkor.
La description faite par Loti des conditions de vie des moines de ce temple, d'un dénuement total, est saisissante, notamment leur sacrifice et dévouement pour leur religion millénaire, dont il ne reste que des ruines.
Enfin, Pierre Loti réussit le tour de force de nous embarquer dans son expédition, en ne négligeant la description d'aucun de ses sens :
Visuel, avec la description d'une jungle sans fin, quasiment impénétrable.
Auditif, avec la description de tous les bruits inquiétants de la jungle.
Olfactif, de l'odeur de la rivière, l'odeur de la jungle et de sa végétation, en terminant avec Angkor, embaumée de l'odeur des encens.
Enfin, après une ellipse de quelques années, Pierre Loti revient sur son voyage et contemple de ses yeux d'adulte, qui ont tant vu, les vestiges naïfs de son enfance. Une fin toute pleine de philosophie et une citation qui m'a beaucoup plu :
Bref, à la lecture des avis, j'ai remarqué que certains lecteurs étaient ennuyés à la lecture de ce livre, où il n'y avait que des descriptions et pas beaucoup d'actions. Alors oui, c'est un livre entièrement descriptif, mais que les descriptions sont vivantes !
Plusieurs descriptions m'ont particulièrement frappé :
Tout d'abord, la description du périple lui-même pour arriver au temple d'Angkor, un pèlerinage il est vrai, assez éprouvant, en particulier lorsque l'explorateur s'enfonce littéralement dans la jungle, comme happé par la végétation, pour se retrouver dans un endroit hors du temps et de l'espace, sorte de vestige d'un jardin d'Eden exotique, que sont les ruines d'Angkor.
La description faite par Loti des conditions de vie des moines de ce temple, d'un dénuement total, est saisissante, notamment leur sacrifice et dévouement pour leur religion millénaire, dont il ne reste que des ruines.
Enfin, Pierre Loti réussit le tour de force de nous embarquer dans son expédition, en ne négligeant la description d'aucun de ses sens :
Visuel, avec la description d'une jungle sans fin, quasiment impénétrable.
Auditif, avec la description de tous les bruits inquiétants de la jungle.
Olfactif, de l'odeur de la rivière, l'odeur de la jungle et de sa végétation, en terminant avec Angkor, embaumée de l'odeur des encens.
Enfin, après une ellipse de quelques années, Pierre Loti revient sur son voyage et contemple de ses yeux d'adulte, qui ont tant vu, les vestiges naïfs de son enfance. Une fin toute pleine de philosophie et une citation qui m'a beaucoup plu :
Elle fut certainement décisive, l’influence qu’exerça ce musée sur l’orientation de ma vie. Il en va de même pour la plupart des hommes, simples jouets de leurs impressions initiales; des riens, longuement regardés au premier âge, suffisent pour infléchir, dans un sens ou dans un autre, toute la suite de leur destinée.
Bref, à la lecture des avis, j'ai remarqué que certains lecteurs étaient ennuyés à la lecture de ce livre, où il n'y avait que des descriptions et pas beaucoup d'actions. Alors oui, c'est un livre entièrement descriptif, mais que les descriptions sont vivantes !
January 1, 2018
Pierre Lotti: A Pilgrimage to Angkor
The French travel writer and exotic novelist Pierre Loti (1850–1923), in his day the youngest member elected to the Académie Française, had dreamt of visiting the ruins of Angkor when, as a child, he came across illustrations of them among some papers belonging to his elder brother, who had served in Indochina in the navy. Loti, whose real name was Julien Viaud, was a full-time professional naval officer and was able to realize his childhood dream of going to Angkor in 1901 when his ship stayed some time in Indochinese waters.
Though the time he spent at Angkor was brief, he writes captivatingly about the glory of the temples and their magnificent reliefs hidden in the jungle. He was also able to visit a royal mausoleum built by King Norodom, and describes a reception given for him at the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh on his return journey to Saigon.
The last chapter rounds up everything very nicely, in it the old Pierre Lotti returns to the house were he spend his youth. There again he finds his childhood dreams and looks back on a life well-traveled, older, wise and perhaps a little sadder.
Loti’s book first appeared in French in 1912 and was translated into English the following year, with the inappropriate title Siam. A translation into Dutch appeared for the first time in 1920 with black and white photos and illustration by Chris van Geel.
The French travel writer and exotic novelist Pierre Loti (1850–1923), in his day the youngest member elected to the Académie Française, had dreamt of visiting the ruins of Angkor when, as a child, he came across illustrations of them among some papers belonging to his elder brother, who had served in Indochina in the navy. Loti, whose real name was Julien Viaud, was a full-time professional naval officer and was able to realize his childhood dream of going to Angkor in 1901 when his ship stayed some time in Indochinese waters.
Though the time he spent at Angkor was brief, he writes captivatingly about the glory of the temples and their magnificent reliefs hidden in the jungle. He was also able to visit a royal mausoleum built by King Norodom, and describes a reception given for him at the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh on his return journey to Saigon.
The last chapter rounds up everything very nicely, in it the old Pierre Lotti returns to the house were he spend his youth. There again he finds his childhood dreams and looks back on a life well-traveled, older, wise and perhaps a little sadder.
Loti’s book first appeared in French in 1912 and was translated into English the following year, with the inappropriate title Siam. A translation into Dutch appeared for the first time in 1920 with black and white photos and illustration by Chris van Geel.
November 14, 2024
Allant visiter les temples, j’ai voulu en lire des récits comme je le fais à chaque voyage. Mais ce livre s’est avérée yrès difficile à lire pour moi avec mon regard d’une femme du 21eme amoureuse de l’Asie. Beaucoup de jugement de l’étranger asiatique.
De passages que l’on jugerait racistes aujourd’hui.
Même dans la présentation de ces superbes temples, ce n’est pas l’amour et l’émerveillement qui se degagent mais une forme de peur pour ces lieux et cette nature.
Malgré la belle plume de Pierre Lotti, je suis déçue de cette vision. Quel décalage avec celle de Kessel sur l’Asie quelques années plus tard, pleine de respect et d’humanité.
De passages que l’on jugerait racistes aujourd’hui.
Même dans la présentation de ces superbes temples, ce n’est pas l’amour et l’émerveillement qui se degagent mais une forme de peur pour ces lieux et cette nature.
Malgré la belle plume de Pierre Lotti, je suis déçue de cette vision. Quel décalage avec celle de Kessel sur l’Asie quelques années plus tard, pleine de respect et d’humanité.
September 9, 2024
I did not expect it to end as it did, but I still liked it a lot. Talvez até mais, graças ao final.
Isto sobre a história em si; quanto à edição da Livros de Bordo, senti falta de algumas notas de editor.
Há muito locais mencionados no livros que atualmente não são chamados pelos mesmos nomes que tinham em 1901, quando decorrem os acontecimentos, pelo que algumas notas de rodapé a contextualizar o leitura teriam sido apropriadas. Por mais que uma vez tive de pesquisar os nomes online, para perceber onde estava.
Fora isso, muito bom livro.
Isto sobre a história em si; quanto à edição da Livros de Bordo, senti falta de algumas notas de editor.
Há muito locais mencionados no livros que atualmente não são chamados pelos mesmos nomes que tinham em 1901, quando decorrem os acontecimentos, pelo que algumas notas de rodapé a contextualizar o leitura teriam sido apropriadas. Por mais que uma vez tive de pesquisar os nomes online, para perceber onde estava.
Fora isso, muito bom livro.
September 9, 2024
3.5/5
I read this, curious to learn a little bit about Cambodian/Khmer culture. I was disappointed, but I shouldn't have been shocked. It's a solid work of a subjective (and colonial) POV of a French officer on a past journey to Angkor Thom and its temples. It's an average piece of travel literature with all its clichés.
I read this, curious to learn a little bit about Cambodian/Khmer culture. I was disappointed, but I shouldn't have been shocked. It's a solid work of a subjective (and colonial) POV of a French officer on a past journey to Angkor Thom and its temples. It's an average piece of travel literature with all its clichés.
December 23, 2019
Témoignage utile mais que de racisme gratuit, même pour l'époque
March 8, 2013
premier e-book lu! Intéressante description du Cambodge du début 20eme, qui venait d'être redécouvert...nature sauvage et beauté de l'Histoire...
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