"Recently I retired to my estates, determined to devote myself as far as I could to spending what little life I have left quietly and privately; it seemed to me then that the greatest favour I could do for my mind was to leave it in total idleness..." Michel de Montaigne Jenny Diski's attempt to keep still and mentally idle resulted in a year in which she travelled to New Zealand, spent two months almost alone in a cottage in the country and visited the Sámi people of Lapland. Montaigne was alarmed to discover that by staying still his mind 'bolted off like a runaway horse'; Diski, failing to keep still, finds much the same problem and like Montaigne keeps a record of her ramblings both mental and physical hoping as he did in time to make her mind ashamed of itself. Interspersed with ill-tempered descriptions of these trips are digressions on the subject of her sore foot; her childhood desire for 'a condition', thoughts about growing older, spiders, fundamentalism and the problems of keeping warm.
Jenny Diski was a British writer. Diski was a prolific writer of fiction and nonfiction articles, reviews and books. She was awarded the 2003 Thomas Cook Travel Book Award for Stranger on a Train: Daydreaming and Smoking around America With Interruptions.
I loved this! And am definitely going to read more of her stuff. She is such a major introvert, I felt she was a kindred spirit. Plus she is hilarious.
When Jenny Diski died, I knew I had to read another one of her books. Read more about her and this non-fiction "travel" book from 2006 in my review here. https://tcl-bookreviews.com/2016/07/1...
This book's a tough one to categorize - "travel" seems the most comprehensive for me as it's three parts are set in New Zealand, the U. K. (away from Diski's home itself) and Sweden; however, there's plenty of memoir and philosophy-of-life musing, too. The further I got into the Arctic section, the faster I skimmed towards the book's conclusion - then again, Diski admits upfront that she had second thoughts about the trip after it was too late to cancel; the (fixed) pre-arranged itenerary didn't turn out to be what she had in mind, so she did the best she could.
What a whining woman! So introvert, so British. They let me travel for free, and even pay me for doing it, but I don't want to go. I'll go anyway, because I can't say no.. Foreign countries are different. Even my own country is different. It's such a nuisance. I shouldn't have gone. I want to go home. Boo hoo. Original and well written, though. The Brexit situation suddenly makes perfect sense.
Always wonderful to be back with Diski. This book is a little bit of a hodgepodge - not a single story, not quite a collection of essays. A few distinct experiences organised around the theme of travel vs stillness, with some of her signature pairing of travel anecdotes and memoir drawn from her childhood experiences. I'd urge new readers not to start here, but it's pretty excellent nonetheless.
Having never heard of this author until I came across the recommendation for this, which I have now discovered is one of the lesser known of her quite extensive body of work.
This book seemed to me unable to decide what it was trying to do. Is it travelogue, memoir or an advert for the places she stays? Some confused mix of all three is the conclusion I reached. Maybe that's her style, but I'm not sure it worked for me.
The travel portions are fine, but hampered by the fact her main activity when visitng somewhere new seems to be to sit inside and read her book, which necessarily puts something of a limit on her worth as a wandering correspondent.
The memoir/observational pieces are probably better, but lean towards just being a cantankerous misanthrope.
As an aside, given the below was written about twenty years ago, it's sadly familiar:
"John le Carré was on the radio earlier talking about his despair. Iraq. Israel. The US. Us. Perhaps that's what kept me in bed: he was talking about having grown so much older and things being the same and worse, and the now inescapable knowledge we have that there will not be an improvement. He talks about Israel and America, but perhaps there's always an Israel and America and there comes a point at all times for people who don't have metaphysical or political faiths where the unimprovability of the world has to be faced. Despair is the nature of getting older. A sublimation of our own onrushing death. Though I'm inclined to think that the state of the world is worse than individual death."
Creo que la aventura de empezar con la no ficción y en particular los libros de viajes, me daba pavor al principio.
Se hizo pesado el viaje y en muchas ocasiones pensaba que no terminaría jamás, pero creo que Jenny Diski es una escritora que merece toda mi atención.
No creo que haya una mejor forma de relatar los tres recorridos que se describen en el libro. La poética indiferente y la holgazanería de la que Jenny hace bandera me resultan tan cómicas que no dejas de pensar en cómo debe ser esta mujer.
Quizá haya pasado unos cuantos días conociendo a esta mujer fascinante y es posible que vuelva a otro de sus títulos y los disfrute. Pero sobretodo disfrute de sus pensamientos.
Den tog sin lilla tid att läsa ut. Påbörjade både en och två och kanske till och med tre gånger men tillslut så. Ganska trist emellanåt, lite kul på sina ställen men jag hade kanske inte ens tagit mig igenom om jag inte siktat in mig på att hon till sist skulle skriva om Lappland. Vilket kändes som intressant läsning.
Jag gillar så tonen i Diskis böcker. Här söker hon tystnade, stillheten och ensamheten på några olika resor, men oavsett vart hon åker möter hon människor som omtänksamt vill se till att hon inte känner sig ensam. Finurligt filosoferande & torr humor - hon är så rolig!
Occasionally a bit frustrating, in that you want to shake her and say, "Look, stop thinking so much about simple tasks like going for a walk and just DO them!", but ultimately reassuring because so much of what she writes accords with your own thoughts as a reluctant traveller, Jenny Diski's paean to not travelling is a fine read. By turns wryly amusing, perceptive and occasionally upsetting, she deftly navigates a series of low key non adventures with humour and acute self-analysis. Much like her travelling, the book doesn't appear to go anywhere whilst keeping you entertained and curious with anticipation along the way. And Diski comes out of it very well herself; may her self-proclaimed old age be a long, happy and enjoyably idle one (but not too idle).
Interesting thoughts by Jenny Diski on why we feel the need to travel and see things, while in our imagination visiting new places is at least as good, if not better. She spent two months in a remote farm trying to do as little as possible, but her mind, just like everyone else's, begins to wander after a while. Some very helpful and provoking thoughts, but the last part was somehow less interesting and a bit pale (haha, snowy!). Still interesting enough to keep on reading until the end.
I read this on a boat, doing nothing much except watching the sea go by for days. It was good company, and set me off in the direction of Montaigne. She is a far more entertaining writer than he was, and her philosophising is both funny and deep.
The description of the actual travelling was interesting, as well as the interspersed autobiographical stories. Sometimes I got tired of the author's complaining, which reduced the enjoyability somewhat, but overall it was an interesting read. Are all memoirs like this?
Jenny Diski is a fine writer and this book is a joy for anyone, like myself, that loves both travelling and sitting very still and not doing much at all.