What do you think?
Rate this book
Looking for the Lost: Journeys Through a Vanishing Japan
Traveling by foot through mountains and villages, Alan Booth found a Japan far removed from the stereotypes familiar to Westerners. Whether retracing the footsteps of ancient warriors or detailing the encroachments of suburban sprawl, he unerringly finds the telling detail, the unexpected transformation, the everyday drama that brings this remote world to life on the page. Looking for the Lost is full of personalities, from friendly gangsters to mischievous children to the author himself, an expatriate who found in Japan both his true home and dogged exile. Wry, witty, sometimes angry, always eloquent, Booth is a uniquely perceptive guide.
Looking for the Lost is a technicolor journey into the heart of a nation. Perhaps even more significant, it is the self-portrait of one man, Alan Booth, exquisitely painted in the twilight of his own life.
400 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1995
30 people are currently reading
1303 people want to read
About the author
Alan Booth
100 books28 followersAlan Booth was born in London in 1946 and traveled to Japan in 1970 to study Noh theater. He stayed, working as a writer and film critic, until his death from cancer in 1993.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews
December 7, 2025
Probably Alan Booth's second most popular book after Roads to Sata, which was a 5 star book for me. I had expected more of the same from this book, published some ten years after the success of his first.
In many way it was more of the same - I enjoyed the quirky conversations, the tidbits of odd Japanese social history, history and the psyche of the Japanese as assessed by Booth, by this point a long time resident of Japan. Speaking fluent Japanese he gains great benefits over other foreign travellers in Japan.
I also enjoyed the fact that Booth is a committed walker - he walks at all times, in all weather, and will not accept a lift or assistance with transport - and this alone confuses the Japanese he comes into contact with, most assuming he has not communicated his intention correctly in a language he is new to... and leads to some awkward moments like the courtesy van from the hotel that has come to collect him that follows him along the road for the several kilometres back to the hotel (at walking pace).
The final recurring feature is Booth's enjoyment of beer. Whether lunchtime or afternoon, with dinner or later in the evening, Booth will have a bottle (or two, sometime three) to rehydrate (don't take hydration advice from my review please). While still in transit, they are usually obtained form a vending machine or a bottle shop (most of these allow him to drink these on site). Booth mentions in this book that he received criticism for his beer consumption, described as his 'pub crawl of Japan' and wasn't very impressed, considering it was a very minor part of his narrative - the problem with his displeasure at this is that he makes it such a regular feature of his narrative that it stands out if he doesn't break his day up with beer! Of course, I had no issue with being a part of the narrative.
As for where it is that Booth walks, he breaks the book into three distinct parts. The first is Tsugaru where ostensibly he follows the footsteps of author Osamu Dazai, a novelist from the local area famous for his booze fueled life and many suicide attempts, the last of which (obviously) was successful. Booth hikes about Amori Prefecture following the route taken by the author some 50 years prior.
In the second section, Saigo's Last March, Booth follows in the footsteps of Saigo Takamori's famous retreat from Mount Enodake in the northern part of Miyazaki prefecture through mountains down to his home town of Kagoshima (Kagoshima Prefecture). Saigo was a famous samurai and politician who lived from 1828-1877, and was an influential figure in the Meiji Restoration which overthrew the Tokugawa shogunate. Following Saigo's route, Booth is unable to keep up with the timeline, but fits in lots of beer and interactions en route.
The third section, Looking for the Lost Booths intent is to follow the retreat of the Heike (samurai) clan who were chased from Kyoto in the 12th century, occurring mostly in the Gifu Prefecture. In this section Booth also shares a bit more about his own story.
So very much 'more of the same', and overall an enjoyable read, but for me definitely a slow read. I picked up another book between each of the sections, just to break it all up more for me. There is an element of repetition, and while it is well deal with by the author, there was still enough slow paced travelling to leave me looking for something else in between.
Recommended to those who like Roads to Sata, and enjoy a leisurely paced read.
4 stars
In many way it was more of the same - I enjoyed the quirky conversations, the tidbits of odd Japanese social history, history and the psyche of the Japanese as assessed by Booth, by this point a long time resident of Japan. Speaking fluent Japanese he gains great benefits over other foreign travellers in Japan.
I also enjoyed the fact that Booth is a committed walker - he walks at all times, in all weather, and will not accept a lift or assistance with transport - and this alone confuses the Japanese he comes into contact with, most assuming he has not communicated his intention correctly in a language he is new to... and leads to some awkward moments like the courtesy van from the hotel that has come to collect him that follows him along the road for the several kilometres back to the hotel (at walking pace).
The final recurring feature is Booth's enjoyment of beer. Whether lunchtime or afternoon, with dinner or later in the evening, Booth will have a bottle (or two, sometime three) to rehydrate (don't take hydration advice from my review please). While still in transit, they are usually obtained form a vending machine or a bottle shop (most of these allow him to drink these on site). Booth mentions in this book that he received criticism for his beer consumption, described as his 'pub crawl of Japan' and wasn't very impressed, considering it was a very minor part of his narrative - the problem with his displeasure at this is that he makes it such a regular feature of his narrative that it stands out if he doesn't break his day up with beer! Of course, I had no issue with being a part of the narrative.
As for where it is that Booth walks, he breaks the book into three distinct parts. The first is Tsugaru where ostensibly he follows the footsteps of author Osamu Dazai, a novelist from the local area famous for his booze fueled life and many suicide attempts, the last of which (obviously) was successful. Booth hikes about Amori Prefecture following the route taken by the author some 50 years prior.
In the second section, Saigo's Last March, Booth follows in the footsteps of Saigo Takamori's famous retreat from Mount Enodake in the northern part of Miyazaki prefecture through mountains down to his home town of Kagoshima (Kagoshima Prefecture). Saigo was a famous samurai and politician who lived from 1828-1877, and was an influential figure in the Meiji Restoration which overthrew the Tokugawa shogunate. Following Saigo's route, Booth is unable to keep up with the timeline, but fits in lots of beer and interactions en route.
The third section, Looking for the Lost Booths intent is to follow the retreat of the Heike (samurai) clan who were chased from Kyoto in the 12th century, occurring mostly in the Gifu Prefecture. In this section Booth also shares a bit more about his own story.
So very much 'more of the same', and overall an enjoyable read, but for me definitely a slow read. I picked up another book between each of the sections, just to break it all up more for me. There is an element of repetition, and while it is well deal with by the author, there was still enough slow paced travelling to leave me looking for something else in between.
Recommended to those who like Roads to Sata, and enjoy a leisurely paced read.
4 stars
January 25, 2023
I was really impressed with Alan Booth's Roads to Sata and was relishing the chance to read his follow up, Looking For The Lost (1995). And again I was impressed, the first section, "Tsugaru" is Booth's retracing the path of Aomori author Osamu Dazai, who was famous for his writing and booze fueled life and many suicide attempts-one of which, was successful. The name of Dazai's book that Booth uses as his guide of the region was Return to Tsugaru: Travels of a Purple Tramp, which gave Booth points of reference even though that trip was undertaken 50 years earlier. In the book Booth tells a waitress at the inn that was once Dazai's home that he wasn't particularly a fan-and I can believe it. (I'm not such a huge fan of the selfish miserable man either) I think it was merely a good excuse for him to explore this remote northern-most region of Honshu-an area that he professed his love for earlier and mentioning that when he first arrived in Japan he lived just south of Amori in Akita prefecture. I know very little of the region save its regional products, the Namahage devil festival / costumes, and the famous colorful float festival known as the Nebuta festival. But his observations of the people and region are intriguing. He was particularly impressed with Hirosaki, which he called one of his favorite places in Japan.
In the second section, "Saigo's Last March," Booth follows in the footsteps of Saigo Takamori's famous retreat from Mount Enodake in the northern part of Miyazaki prefecture through mountains down to his home town of Kagoshima. I suppose I would liked to read more about Takamori and his impact on modern Japan sometime. However, in this sparsely populated area Booth has many false starts and he is not able to keep up with Takamori's timetable for the march. Along the way locals tell him the history of Takamori's doings in their villages during his long march home. As usual, beer is drank, chats are had, and this trip seems more miserable than others because of the constant rain he encounters on his walk. Again wry observations about the people and Booth's impressions are made as well. Of those two prefectures I have only been to the main cities of Miyazaki and Kagoshima, so the descriptions of the rugged land is somewhat of a revelation-however, the impression was made on trips from the airports into the main cities on those trips.
In the final section, "Looking for the Lost," Booth attempts to follow and explore the retreat of the Heike (also known as the Taira) clan that was said to have been chased out of Kyoto into the north most likely along the Nagara River. Like the previous two entries there are witty exchanges with locals, more wry observations, and more historical recounting. However, this section also tells the reader more about the author and his obsessions that brought him to Japan in the first place, and why he abandoned them. This is triggered by the staid historical museums and preserved houses for tourism that are scattered about the region:
"I was reminded, strolling around the breezy paths, of why I had come to Japan in the first place-not in search of the coyly picturesque but of something I had thought might be living and was dead."
"So culturally edifying is the Noh that great pains have been made to pickle it. like much else in Japan that is deemed worthy of awe, the Noh has been stripped of any connection with life as it is actually lived and frozen into a fossil."
But rather than retreat, he finds other interests that keep him in Japan writing about the land, the people, the culture, and the customs as he experienced them firsthand on his travels. The book ends with a powerful prophecy of the author's future. It is a fitting companion to his earlier masterpiece The Roads to Sata. Booth has earned a rightful place among the ranks of the best visitors who wrote so insightfully about Japan like Donald Richie and Ian Buruma.
In the second section, "Saigo's Last March," Booth follows in the footsteps of Saigo Takamori's famous retreat from Mount Enodake in the northern part of Miyazaki prefecture through mountains down to his home town of Kagoshima. I suppose I would liked to read more about Takamori and his impact on modern Japan sometime. However, in this sparsely populated area Booth has many false starts and he is not able to keep up with Takamori's timetable for the march. Along the way locals tell him the history of Takamori's doings in their villages during his long march home. As usual, beer is drank, chats are had, and this trip seems more miserable than others because of the constant rain he encounters on his walk. Again wry observations about the people and Booth's impressions are made as well. Of those two prefectures I have only been to the main cities of Miyazaki and Kagoshima, so the descriptions of the rugged land is somewhat of a revelation-however, the impression was made on trips from the airports into the main cities on those trips.
In the final section, "Looking for the Lost," Booth attempts to follow and explore the retreat of the Heike (also known as the Taira) clan that was said to have been chased out of Kyoto into the north most likely along the Nagara River. Like the previous two entries there are witty exchanges with locals, more wry observations, and more historical recounting. However, this section also tells the reader more about the author and his obsessions that brought him to Japan in the first place, and why he abandoned them. This is triggered by the staid historical museums and preserved houses for tourism that are scattered about the region:
"I was reminded, strolling around the breezy paths, of why I had come to Japan in the first place-not in search of the coyly picturesque but of something I had thought might be living and was dead."
"So culturally edifying is the Noh that great pains have been made to pickle it. like much else in Japan that is deemed worthy of awe, the Noh has been stripped of any connection with life as it is actually lived and frozen into a fossil."
But rather than retreat, he finds other interests that keep him in Japan writing about the land, the people, the culture, and the customs as he experienced them firsthand on his travels. The book ends with a powerful prophecy of the author's future. It is a fitting companion to his earlier masterpiece The Roads to Sata. Booth has earned a rightful place among the ranks of the best visitors who wrote so insightfully about Japan like Donald Richie and Ian Buruma.
December 14, 2020
This is surely one of the most well-written travel books on Japan. Booth's breathtaking prose comes as naturally as putting one foot before the other as he meanders around Japan. It's the kind of book you read slowly, to take in all he is offering to your senses. He tells you what he sees and relates every detail vividly, without falling into surrealistic prose laden with esoteric metaphor. Where Booth's brilliance resides is in his ability to make us feel like he's just a regular guy, that we could be doing the same thing he is doing, but all the while wowing us with his knowledge and prose without it ever sounding over the top. His writing is rich, while never sounding contrived. In this way he is able to give the reader the same experience of wandering down a path, and getting to know Japan as he does. It's rare to find such a comfortable read.
Another thing I liked about this book is that, while the stories are about his treks around Japan, he never focuses too much on himself. It's always about Japan and it's history and customs, and what gems will reveal themselves around the next bend. Booth doesn't even tell us why he originally came to Japan until page 362! That's how much he doesn't want to focus solely on himself, and how he wants the reader to focus on Japan the country, rather than on Japan the inscrutable.
Booth is a rock solid writer. He employs myriad writing techniques in this book, and rarely ever repeats one. That's impressive and what makes each page, and each chapter, as fresh as the one before it. Alan Booth is truly one of Japan's classic ex-pat writers.
Note: This book was rated one of the "Top 12 Books Read in 2020" by reviewers at Books on Asia: https://booksonasia.net/2020/12/14/ou...
Another thing I liked about this book is that, while the stories are about his treks around Japan, he never focuses too much on himself. It's always about Japan and it's history and customs, and what gems will reveal themselves around the next bend. Booth doesn't even tell us why he originally came to Japan until page 362! That's how much he doesn't want to focus solely on himself, and how he wants the reader to focus on Japan the country, rather than on Japan the inscrutable.
Booth is a rock solid writer. He employs myriad writing techniques in this book, and rarely ever repeats one. That's impressive and what makes each page, and each chapter, as fresh as the one before it. Alan Booth is truly one of Japan's classic ex-pat writers.
Note: This book was rated one of the "Top 12 Books Read in 2020" by reviewers at Books on Asia: https://booksonasia.net/2020/12/14/ou...
June 12, 2016
This book is an amazing travel account.
Booth is a walker, no matter the weather, no matter how awful the road. He speaks Japanese, he's intelligent and talkative and he talks to the people he meets. The experiences he makes (good, bad, funny, strange) are shared in wonderfully engaging language. There is the odd introspection or memory of former visits or happenings in his life, too. It doesn't happen often and, because Booth comes across as such a down-to-earth guy this added to the charm of the book. It wasn't tedious or uncalled for - it becomes a part of his discovery process of the country as he walks.
In this book, Booth chronicles three journeys taken along the roads travelled by a famous writer, a military general and, lastly, by the remnants of a clan. This historical connection, the re-discovery of their paths in wind, sleet, rain, heat and cold is an adventure in itself.
This is for those who are interested in Japan without cliches, in people in the countryside.
The book was published in the 1990s, but Booth did already seen and mention some of the things that struck me a good twenty years later - how the Japanese love of nature in Kyoto gardens does not mean that there won't be destruction of it (wide highways in the middle of the mountains, grimy tunnels, dams ...). It was most striking in the third travel he described, where he passed by Shirakawa-go, a small mountain place, famous for its high-steepled houses. I've been there and Booth's words are true still - the way he describes it is strikingly accurate - you can see it even if you have not been there, but if you have, it's even more poignant.
For me, this book is a travel writing gem. I absolutely loved it and I'm really looking forward to reading "The Roads to Sata", the first Japan travel book Booth wrote, which is still on my reading list.
Booth is a walker, no matter the weather, no matter how awful the road. He speaks Japanese, he's intelligent and talkative and he talks to the people he meets. The experiences he makes (good, bad, funny, strange) are shared in wonderfully engaging language. There is the odd introspection or memory of former visits or happenings in his life, too. It doesn't happen often and, because Booth comes across as such a down-to-earth guy this added to the charm of the book. It wasn't tedious or uncalled for - it becomes a part of his discovery process of the country as he walks.
In this book, Booth chronicles three journeys taken along the roads travelled by a famous writer, a military general and, lastly, by the remnants of a clan. This historical connection, the re-discovery of their paths in wind, sleet, rain, heat and cold is an adventure in itself.
This is for those who are interested in Japan without cliches, in people in the countryside.
The book was published in the 1990s, but Booth did already seen and mention some of the things that struck me a good twenty years later - how the Japanese love of nature in Kyoto gardens does not mean that there won't be destruction of it (wide highways in the middle of the mountains, grimy tunnels, dams ...). It was most striking in the third travel he described, where he passed by Shirakawa-go, a small mountain place, famous for its high-steepled houses. I've been there and Booth's words are true still - the way he describes it is strikingly accurate - you can see it even if you have not been there, but if you have, it's even more poignant.
For me, this book is a travel writing gem. I absolutely loved it and I'm really looking forward to reading "The Roads to Sata", the first Japan travel book Booth wrote, which is still on my reading list.
July 8, 2017
Honestly, there is quite a bit of excellent Japanese cultural stuff present here, but I found the author's tone consistently condescending. Furthermore, the first part of the book is barely more than an extended tirade against Osamu Dazai. To dislike that writer's work is fine, but to mock his suicide attempts and his alcoholism, while doing nothing but drinking beer and shochu all hours of the day, is a bit much.
August 21, 2013
Enjoying it so much that I'm reading it v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y
August 28, 2017
Wow. This guy can write. He's not looking for a picture postcard Japan. He's looking at the country that's in front of him at a walking pace, talking to the people he meets and letting you in on it. He doesn't wrap up things in neat bows, this isn't some memoir disguised as travel writing. It's detailed, subtle, earthy. The author died too young, and knowing that cast a sadness over the reading of this book, gave it depth and shadows it might otherwise not have had. It will take me a while to process this one.
May 10, 2022
In Looking for the Lost Alan Booth embarks on three long walks through rural Japan. The walks are inspired by the historical journey of writer Dazai Osamu through Tsugaru in northern Honshu in 1944, the fighting retreat through Kyushu of Saigo Takamori in 1877 as he and his small army evaded an Imperial Army sent to subdue him, and finally an imagined flight of the Taira clan through central Honshu following their defeat at the battle of Dannoura in the 12th century.
For his earlier book, ‘The Roads to Sata’, Booth walked the entire length of Japan from the northern tip of Hokkaido to Cape Sata in Kyushu giving a straight narrative of the journey with no ‘backstory’ of Booth’s life in Japan or the motivation for his long walk. In ‘Looking for the Lost’ Booth brings his deep understanding of Japanese language, culture and literature to the story this time providing personal insights of his early days in Japan and recollections suggested by his current journey. While by no means an autobiography, this book is all the better for its autobiographical elements.
Building the book around three journeys provides Booth with a framework to explore historical and cultural elements in a way that ‘The Roads to Sata’ does not, creating a space into which Alan Booth can insert his own experiences. Booth continues his love/hate relationship with Japan and the joys and frustrations of encountering the Japanese outside the (relatively) cosmopolitan cities. Thankfully there is more love than hate although Booth is quick to criticise a generic complacency that allows the traditional buildings, festivals and culture to be destroyed or turned into a tourist attraction. If I have a criticism of the book it is that Booth, while quick to bemoan the loss of traditional ways, or their relegation to a ‘theme park’ offers no alternative vision of a better way to preserve them. In fact, he is quick to characterise a carefully preserved traditional Japanese art form, the art form that first drew him to Japan, Noh theatre, as dull, elitist and irrelevant
As with ‘The Roads to Sata’ no specific dates are provided for each of the three journeys, although clues in the text (such as mention of contemporary Sumo champions) suggest that the walks were made in the late 1980s or early 1990s. The final lines of the book are particularly poignant as ‘Looking for the Lost’ was the last book written by Alan Booth. It was a great loss, since with this pair of books, ‘The Roads to Sata’ and ‘Looking for the Lost’, Booth provided the most profound insights into the soul of Japan by any non-Japanese writing in English.
For his earlier book, ‘The Roads to Sata’, Booth walked the entire length of Japan from the northern tip of Hokkaido to Cape Sata in Kyushu giving a straight narrative of the journey with no ‘backstory’ of Booth’s life in Japan or the motivation for his long walk. In ‘Looking for the Lost’ Booth brings his deep understanding of Japanese language, culture and literature to the story this time providing personal insights of his early days in Japan and recollections suggested by his current journey. While by no means an autobiography, this book is all the better for its autobiographical elements.
Building the book around three journeys provides Booth with a framework to explore historical and cultural elements in a way that ‘The Roads to Sata’ does not, creating a space into which Alan Booth can insert his own experiences. Booth continues his love/hate relationship with Japan and the joys and frustrations of encountering the Japanese outside the (relatively) cosmopolitan cities. Thankfully there is more love than hate although Booth is quick to criticise a generic complacency that allows the traditional buildings, festivals and culture to be destroyed or turned into a tourist attraction. If I have a criticism of the book it is that Booth, while quick to bemoan the loss of traditional ways, or their relegation to a ‘theme park’ offers no alternative vision of a better way to preserve them. In fact, he is quick to characterise a carefully preserved traditional Japanese art form, the art form that first drew him to Japan, Noh theatre, as dull, elitist and irrelevant
As with ‘The Roads to Sata’ no specific dates are provided for each of the three journeys, although clues in the text (such as mention of contemporary Sumo champions) suggest that the walks were made in the late 1980s or early 1990s. The final lines of the book are particularly poignant as ‘Looking for the Lost’ was the last book written by Alan Booth. It was a great loss, since with this pair of books, ‘The Roads to Sata’ and ‘Looking for the Lost’, Booth provided the most profound insights into the soul of Japan by any non-Japanese writing in English.
November 11, 2020
After reading Alan Booth’s excellent travel memoir “Roads to Sata,” that chronicles his journey across Japan, I was really looking forward to reading his second and final travel memoirs, “Looking for the Lost: Journeys Through a Vanishing Japan.” I’m happy to say that Looking for the Lost rivals Roads to Sata, and we get to see different sides of Alan that we hadn’t before: more emotion, a deeper look into his own past, more about his mental and physical challenges on the various treks, and of course more of his witty and well written forays into the Japanese countryside and history. Looking for the Lost is split into three parts, with five chapters in each (the symmetry of which I appreciated).
In the first part, Alan retraced the route that the infamous Japanese author Osamu Dazai took on the journey described in his book “Tsugaru”. Alan doesn’t seem to actually like or admire Dazai as a person, in fact, when someone asks Alan if he is a fan of Dazai’s he responds, “not really”. And I can’t say that I blame him. He didn’t come across as that swell of a guy - there are incidents like where in one of his suicide attempts, a 19-year old girl who was with him actually died, while he survived, and within a month of her death, he married another woman. It seemed more like following Dazai’s route was more an excuse for Alan to travel into the rural deep north of Honshu and to get to explore those areas. To be fair to Dazai, there is a part where he goes in search of the woman who cared for him until he was six years old and then abruptly left him, and when he found her he asked, “I wonder do all the mothers of the world give all their children this rest?” Having lost my mother when I was young, I sympathized with him.
In the second part, Alan followed the route that, during the Satsuma Rebellion, Saigo Takamori took while he and his rebel army retreated back towards Kagoshima in the late 1800s. Saigo Takamori was considered the last true samurai and I thought this quest of Alan’s was really interesting and the history was fascinating. We get some sort of “firsts” from Alan in this section. As I mentioned before, we see more emotion from him than really ever before here and I think that was spurred on by the harsh typhoons that were hitting this area as he hiked through. Not only was he getting slammed with rain, he was hiking deep into mountain ranges in not hospitable areas, to the point where he developed sores on his inner thighs and other areas of his body. It sounded miserable, but he was committed to his quest and continued on. There must’ve been some really desperate moments up there. We see him cursing here for the first time and constantly complaining about how bad his feet are blistered and hurt. My point is that we never really got to see this kind of emotion from Alan before and I empathized with him, but also appreciated getting to know him more. In the end, I learned a lot about Saigo and that history was really interesting, but Alan didn't give much reflection on what he learned or got out of the experience. I would’ve liked more reflection from him, but to be fair, maybe the reflection was better left up to the reader.
In the third and final part of the book, Alan goes on a quest up the Nagara river, to see if a small village could’ve possibly been where some of the exiled family members that were mentioned in the epic Tale of the Heike legend ended up. I thought this was another really interesting quest and again loved learning about the history involved.
There were a couple of really small things I didn’t like about Looking for the Lost as much. There were a couple of small moments where he seemed to go on a bit long about one place or about the noodles he was eating or whatever. These were far and few between though. Along those same lines, just about every paragraph mentioned him drinking beer - if you did one of those word collages that show that most used words in a test, I would bet that beer would be one of the big ones. Not that there's anything wrong with drinking beer, but it was such a central focus that it is worth mentioning. Alan does address this though, saying that his previous book was criticized by a newspaper editor who described his previous journey as “a two thousand mile long pub crawl.” Alan explains, “What that editor so entirely failed to appreciate is that my hobbling in and out of liquor shops, especially ones that boast draft beer machines and refrigerated glasses, is done not for epicurean reasons but solely in the interests of social and historical research.”
Final general thoughts:
I loved the interactions he had with some of the families and people he met. He was able to turn small moments into something significant and I really liked that about his writing style. I also LOL'd a lot during this. It was really cool as well to get more of his backstory, about growing up in England, or how he got his start in Japan. It made me feel like I got to know him a bit better and made me sad that I'd never have the opportunity to meet him. Even though this book is close to 400 pages long, it honestly flew by and that says a lot about how great a writer he is.
There were two moments in particular that hit me right in the feels - one where he went out at night in a small town he was in and said, "There was no sign anywhere of life or drink or entertainment. I stood on a bridge looking up at the bright half moon and said to it, 'I’ll miss you when I’m dead.'" Knowing that he has passed made that all the more real for me. And along those same lines, he also mentions towards the end that he is having stomach pains and then says that these pains he later found out were cancer. So again, a really sad ending but one that left me with a lot appreciation for Alan.
I'm really glad I found his books and was able to vicariously live through him along his journeys in Japan.
In the first part, Alan retraced the route that the infamous Japanese author Osamu Dazai took on the journey described in his book “Tsugaru”. Alan doesn’t seem to actually like or admire Dazai as a person, in fact, when someone asks Alan if he is a fan of Dazai’s he responds, “not really”. And I can’t say that I blame him. He didn’t come across as that swell of a guy - there are incidents like where in one of his suicide attempts, a 19-year old girl who was with him actually died, while he survived, and within a month of her death, he married another woman. It seemed more like following Dazai’s route was more an excuse for Alan to travel into the rural deep north of Honshu and to get to explore those areas. To be fair to Dazai, there is a part where he goes in search of the woman who cared for him until he was six years old and then abruptly left him, and when he found her he asked, “I wonder do all the mothers of the world give all their children this rest?” Having lost my mother when I was young, I sympathized with him.
In the second part, Alan followed the route that, during the Satsuma Rebellion, Saigo Takamori took while he and his rebel army retreated back towards Kagoshima in the late 1800s. Saigo Takamori was considered the last true samurai and I thought this quest of Alan’s was really interesting and the history was fascinating. We get some sort of “firsts” from Alan in this section. As I mentioned before, we see more emotion from him than really ever before here and I think that was spurred on by the harsh typhoons that were hitting this area as he hiked through. Not only was he getting slammed with rain, he was hiking deep into mountain ranges in not hospitable areas, to the point where he developed sores on his inner thighs and other areas of his body. It sounded miserable, but he was committed to his quest and continued on. There must’ve been some really desperate moments up there. We see him cursing here for the first time and constantly complaining about how bad his feet are blistered and hurt. My point is that we never really got to see this kind of emotion from Alan before and I empathized with him, but also appreciated getting to know him more. In the end, I learned a lot about Saigo and that history was really interesting, but Alan didn't give much reflection on what he learned or got out of the experience. I would’ve liked more reflection from him, but to be fair, maybe the reflection was better left up to the reader.
In the third and final part of the book, Alan goes on a quest up the Nagara river, to see if a small village could’ve possibly been where some of the exiled family members that were mentioned in the epic Tale of the Heike legend ended up. I thought this was another really interesting quest and again loved learning about the history involved.
There were a couple of really small things I didn’t like about Looking for the Lost as much. There were a couple of small moments where he seemed to go on a bit long about one place or about the noodles he was eating or whatever. These were far and few between though. Along those same lines, just about every paragraph mentioned him drinking beer - if you did one of those word collages that show that most used words in a test, I would bet that beer would be one of the big ones. Not that there's anything wrong with drinking beer, but it was such a central focus that it is worth mentioning. Alan does address this though, saying that his previous book was criticized by a newspaper editor who described his previous journey as “a two thousand mile long pub crawl.” Alan explains, “What that editor so entirely failed to appreciate is that my hobbling in and out of liquor shops, especially ones that boast draft beer machines and refrigerated glasses, is done not for epicurean reasons but solely in the interests of social and historical research.”
Final general thoughts:
I loved the interactions he had with some of the families and people he met. He was able to turn small moments into something significant and I really liked that about his writing style. I also LOL'd a lot during this. It was really cool as well to get more of his backstory, about growing up in England, or how he got his start in Japan. It made me feel like I got to know him a bit better and made me sad that I'd never have the opportunity to meet him. Even though this book is close to 400 pages long, it honestly flew by and that says a lot about how great a writer he is.
There were two moments in particular that hit me right in the feels - one where he went out at night in a small town he was in and said, "There was no sign anywhere of life or drink or entertainment. I stood on a bridge looking up at the bright half moon and said to it, 'I’ll miss you when I’m dead.'" Knowing that he has passed made that all the more real for me. And along those same lines, he also mentions towards the end that he is having stomach pains and then says that these pains he later found out were cancer. So again, a really sad ending but one that left me with a lot appreciation for Alan.
I'm really glad I found his books and was able to vicariously live through him along his journeys in Japan.
Read
August 26, 2008The book didn't hold my attention so I stopped reading it. I wasn't in the mood for a slow book, although it was funny at times.
November 12, 2024
Others have written of Booth's excellent prose and attention to detail. The people he meets, their conversations, the endless roads and paths his blistered feet take him, are all genuine and revealing. For travelogue, this is nearly ideal.
Too, Booth's premises for each of his trips are fascinating choices: following a summer path of author Osamu Dazai, tracing the retreat of the last Samurai, etc. This is not tourist writing, and the gaijin Booth--fluent in language and custom or not--is not always warmly welcomed in space unused to foreign drop-ins. Frequently I wondered at his choices and mistakes along the way (for instance, trusting the directions of disagreeing school children), but I can honestly say I have made equally inconceivable errors in my own travels. He's honest as we might expect about events.
Still, the read felt a bit long to me, and this is perhaps because I found not every detail or moment compelling or noteworthy (perhaps some editing) and perhaps because I am unused to travelogue as a genre. I do not seek the escapist substitute for travel that many readers want. Far better for me to know how Booth thinks/reflects on what he encounters than on how many ryokans he must visit before finding a room for the night. Booth leans on this latter type of detail and leaves us to make sense of much of the rest.
In the end, though, I got what I came for and more: some real experiences in rural Japan (what I missed in my own trip there) and some discoveries of its history that we seldom find elsewhere.
Too, Booth's premises for each of his trips are fascinating choices: following a summer path of author Osamu Dazai, tracing the retreat of the last Samurai, etc. This is not tourist writing, and the gaijin Booth--fluent in language and custom or not--is not always warmly welcomed in space unused to foreign drop-ins. Frequently I wondered at his choices and mistakes along the way (for instance, trusting the directions of disagreeing school children), but I can honestly say I have made equally inconceivable errors in my own travels. He's honest as we might expect about events.
Still, the read felt a bit long to me, and this is perhaps because I found not every detail or moment compelling or noteworthy (perhaps some editing) and perhaps because I am unused to travelogue as a genre. I do not seek the escapist substitute for travel that many readers want. Far better for me to know how Booth thinks/reflects on what he encounters than on how many ryokans he must visit before finding a room for the night. Booth leans on this latter type of detail and leaves us to make sense of much of the rest.
In the end, though, I got what I came for and more: some real experiences in rural Japan (what I missed in my own trip there) and some discoveries of its history that we seldom find elsewhere.
April 20, 2025
The perennial classic “Looking for the Lost” tells about rural Japan as the author retraces the steps of famous people before him on three different journeys.
The first journey “Tsugaru” describes Booth walking in the steps of Dazai Osamu, in a journey back to the writer’s home in Aomori prefecture in Northern Honshu. Dasai had walked there for three weeks and described his impressions in a book with the same name.
The second journey follows “Saigo’s last march”, as Japanese hero and commander in the Satsuma rebellion, Saigo Takamori fled from surrender and returned to Kagoshima at the southern tip of Kyushu to make a final stand there.
The third journey “Looking for the Lost” starts out from Nagoya and moves northwards through Gifu prefecture in an attempt to trace possible descendants of the clan of the Heike who were all but wiped out in the middle of the 12th century.
Throughout the book, Alan Booth mixes historical facts with his observations about contemporary Japan and muses about various subjects. On all his journeys, Alan Booth is walking through the countryside, obstinately refusing any other means of transport. He mostly stays on small roads and often stops for a beer or two at local liquor stores. Talking to the locals and staying at traditional ryokan provides him with new friends as well as unique opportunities to broaden his knowledge of Japanese life outside the big cities.
A fantastic book for those who want to get to know the “real” Japan and its people.
The first journey “Tsugaru” describes Booth walking in the steps of Dazai Osamu, in a journey back to the writer’s home in Aomori prefecture in Northern Honshu. Dasai had walked there for three weeks and described his impressions in a book with the same name.
The second journey follows “Saigo’s last march”, as Japanese hero and commander in the Satsuma rebellion, Saigo Takamori fled from surrender and returned to Kagoshima at the southern tip of Kyushu to make a final stand there.
The third journey “Looking for the Lost” starts out from Nagoya and moves northwards through Gifu prefecture in an attempt to trace possible descendants of the clan of the Heike who were all but wiped out in the middle of the 12th century.
Throughout the book, Alan Booth mixes historical facts with his observations about contemporary Japan and muses about various subjects. On all his journeys, Alan Booth is walking through the countryside, obstinately refusing any other means of transport. He mostly stays on small roads and often stops for a beer or two at local liquor stores. Talking to the locals and staying at traditional ryokan provides him with new friends as well as unique opportunities to broaden his knowledge of Japanese life outside the big cities.
A fantastic book for those who want to get to know the “real” Japan and its people.
June 5, 2022
If I had read this without also reading Roads to Sata, it might have had a lesser effect. However being the second of Booth's novels I've read and considering his tonal shift in this one to being a more patient, more wise, and the bittersweet air that hangs over the storytelling due to this story having been published posthumously, this story contains a special sort of feeling in the writing of beauty in capturing not only a fleeting part of Japans transitory period, but the last years of the authors life. Its clear that Alan has a deep love for the country that comes through in his writing and knowing what little details to capture in writing that express everyday spirit. Him being not native to Japan but fluent in the language also imbues a sort of tension in some interactions that lends another lens for the country. All in all, I love reading good travel novels and the best of the best know that the spirit of a place is more than the sum of its parts, its people, it's something ineffable that only the most talented authors can capture on paper.
September 11, 2019
An ok book, like his other work Roads to Sata.
Still just the same a bit repetitive.
Even so he gives some nice insights in Japanese culture.
For example his explanation of the crux of Japanese literature: on the brevity or human glory and the eternal sadness with which the world is charged. To be more specific: a reference from a short story of Akutagawa's life of a foolish man: 'ah what is a human life,
a drop of dew a flash of lightning? This is sad, so sad.'
Reading these insights makes me contemplate what else he could have written if it wasn't for his untimily death from colon cancer in 1993. I wasn't prepared for the emotional gut punch at the very last page when, in his typical nonchalant style, he refered to the discovery of his cancer at the very end of this memoir, knowing it killed him. This book was published on year after his death by his wife and daughter.
Still just the same a bit repetitive.
Even so he gives some nice insights in Japanese culture.
For example his explanation of the crux of Japanese literature: on the brevity or human glory and the eternal sadness with which the world is charged. To be more specific: a reference from a short story of Akutagawa's life of a foolish man: 'ah what is a human life,
a drop of dew a flash of lightning? This is sad, so sad.'
Reading these insights makes me contemplate what else he could have written if it wasn't for his untimily death from colon cancer in 1993. I wasn't prepared for the emotional gut punch at the very last page when, in his typical nonchalant style, he refered to the discovery of his cancer at the very end of this memoir, knowing it killed him. This book was published on year after his death by his wife and daughter.
September 4, 2021
Travelogues as a genre are a series of mildly amusing personal anecdotes exaggerated to the maximum possible extent for dramatic effect. One can think of _Looking for the Lost_ as the most travelogue of travelogues — many, _many_ anecdotes, very mildly amusing, and very exaggerated. That said, the book does paint a vivid picture of rural Japan at a very particular moment in history that no longer exists — quite interesting, and worth reading for that alone.
September 18, 2022
It's a very detailed journey and it took me time to get used to it. I gave it a four star just because I felt there was one detail too many. But paradoxically, it was these details that I appreciated the most as I came to the end of this extremely rich book, and it is these details that I miss now that I finished reading. I feel I have walked in Japan's countryside myself. I think I must go back to the beginning, and start over. And oh, the last few sentences… they broke my heart.
February 3, 2023
Alan Booth's book is fantastic. I was sold anyway, as I am a true Japanophile, but I especially love the way that Booth shows both his deep understanding of Japanese culture, and his difficulties even so of grasping what it means to be Japanese, and the Japanese interaction with the world. Though now several decades old, this is still an indispensable guide to Japan and its people, as experienced by a man both inside and outside of Japanese society.
July 21, 2022
It's a little hard to gauge who this book is really written for. There's lots of interesting encounters and the book shines when Booth writes about his meetings with Japanese strangers. There are occasioanlly lengthy sections that focus fairly intensely on esoteric historical information and those can be pretty tough.
February 16, 2023
Picks up where Roads to Sata left off, this time is three journeys on foot, each with a specific objective, and again well off the beaten path that any usual tourist would expect to be on. Told with honesty, humor, and wit, shows the warts along with the beauty, and a fiar amount of beer consumption to lubricate his way. Highly recommend both this and the Roads to Sata.
October 10, 2023
It wasn’t really obvious but this is a collection of a handful of different narratives all connected with the themes of walking and exploring the bits of Japan that are fading (and might be gone by now). Booth is a fantastic writer and this book has a bit more wryness to it than his last. The last few pages was a gut punch of an ending knowing it was really documenting his own.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 3, 2018
Could not get through the first chapter. Painfully boring.
March 26, 2020
This guy real enjoyed his beer.
August 20, 2023
Well written and sort of interesting, would be good to read before planning a trip to Japan. can be kinda long winded and tedious at times tho
June 21, 2024
The sort of Japan I would like.
May 18, 2025
Werkelijk fantastisch, zelden zo ervan gebaald dat een boek eindigde. Dit boek plus zijn vorige: geef mij er nog maar tien.
March 12, 2017
I loved The Road to Sata, but struggled a bit with this one. The last quarter of the book was brilliant. I got a bit lost looking for Saigo, but now I have found Jdrama about the time and a book on his life. I suspect I will re-read this at some point.
July 3, 2008
The library is closed, so I needed to borrow something for the plane ride from my mother's limited english language library. This book is so damn big. I really don't want to carry it, but what freakin choice do I have? Anyway, I liked his first book when I read it back in my high school days.
Later: I soon realized that this was actually the book I'd read back in the day. Luckily I was given two books to read while I was away so basically I just carried it around up and down the state of California for no apparent reason.
here is why you should read this book. It makes this similar astute observations often and as wittily, but I'm not about to transcribe the whole book. "Daruma is the Japanese name for Bodhidharma, the Indian sage whom legend credits with having introduced Zen Buddhism to China. He is said to have meditated for nine years in a cave and during that time his arms and legs atrophied; as a result the Japanese, being infinitely more comfortable with outward appearances than with inward illuminations, associate him not with piety, but with roundness. Thus a snowman in Japanese is a "snow Daruma" and a potbellied stove is called a "Daruma stove." "
Later: I soon realized that this was actually the book I'd read back in the day. Luckily I was given two books to read while I was away so basically I just carried it around up and down the state of California for no apparent reason.
here is why you should read this book. It makes this similar astute observations often and as wittily, but I'm not about to transcribe the whole book. "Daruma is the Japanese name for Bodhidharma, the Indian sage whom legend credits with having introduced Zen Buddhism to China. He is said to have meditated for nine years in a cave and during that time his arms and legs atrophied; as a result the Japanese, being infinitely more comfortable with outward appearances than with inward illuminations, associate him not with piety, but with roundness. Thus a snowman in Japanese is a "snow Daruma" and a potbellied stove is called a "Daruma stove." "
January 9, 2014
The book records three journeys on foot in remote parts of Japan vaguely shadowing journeys by famous historical characters: Dazai Osamu, a popular writer from the 1940's; Saigo Takamori, who completed a brilliant retreat after a failed rebellion in 1877; and the survivors of the Taira who fled after the events in the Tale of the Heike. Rather than the exotic, the author was hoping to find echoes of the past in ordinary modern life, and though largely unsuccessful, the narrative presents brief portraits of men and women, whose character and eccentricities are as various as anywhere else on earth.
"But in the minds of most of the weekend tourists who visit these old tows and hamlets, the past is a generously amorphous fog. What is old is old; there is no need to bother oneself overmuch about causes and results...All history, even -- or rather especially -- the recent history of the 1930s and 1940s, is a tangle best left for the senseis to unravel. These dances, these hamlets, they are mannerly and fine, they are laudable; they are Japanese." (p. 386)
"But in the minds of most of the weekend tourists who visit these old tows and hamlets, the past is a generously amorphous fog. What is old is old; there is no need to bother oneself overmuch about causes and results...All history, even -- or rather especially -- the recent history of the 1930s and 1940s, is a tangle best left for the senseis to unravel. These dances, these hamlets, they are mannerly and fine, they are laudable; they are Japanese." (p. 386)
Read
January 15, 2015DPL 915.2 A lovely travelogue about walking through modern Japan. He was retracing the steps of a particular Samuri warrior--that got a little tedious. But very interesting to read his description of the countryside (of which you must travel a very long way to really see). Lots of description of the endless ugly architecture, souvenir stands and restaurants of all varieties that dot the landscape. A great description of how [?] culture--like Noh theater--is fossilized, preserved without change or elaboration, a dead thing. "....the outskirts were clogged with the usual gasoline stations and car dealerships, a cement factor, 5 story apartments made of [?] concrete unpainted except for their bright blue balconies, an unprepossessing royan near the station, an air of clutter and dreariness." Smart and well written, getting into the culture but observing it from outside. He died not too long after this trip, a young man, of cancer.
December 18, 2014
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, an enthralling mix of Japanese history, geography, culture, and witty observations of numerous individuals encountered during the course of the three recorded journeys. The book demanded a careful, unhurried reading with a correspondingly rich sense of reward. The ending paragraphs were incredibly poignant, capturing the mixed admiration of Japan's culture and citizens and the author's adept observation of the curious way that Japan treats its history while simultaneously recognizing his own mortality.
I had previously read "The Roads to Sata" when I made my first visit to Japan. This follow-up (of a sort) is equal to that book while surpassing it in some respects. Alan Booth's writing style is a pleasure to read. What a shame that he died at a relatively young age.
I had previously read "The Roads to Sata" when I made my first visit to Japan. This follow-up (of a sort) is equal to that book while surpassing it in some respects. Alan Booth's writing style is a pleasure to read. What a shame that he died at a relatively young age.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews