A fun and unique travel book that subsequently acts and functions as a kind of geographical history of the idea of hell.
One thing that I found interesting is that the first quarter to half of the book, which begins with the earliest histories and the places that define them (or hold their stories still in their continued persisting to this day) is far more interesting than the latter, which shifts into a more modernist take on the desitinations. And I don't just say that as an opinion. I think its objetively true. It's striking how objectively true it appears actually. By the time we are in the final quarter, the book has so obviously lost the power of its language that the way it tries to shoehorn places into this idea of hell feels sometimes eye rolling and superficial. I mean, its still kind of fun to read of the places, but its so clearly working from a reductionist worldview at this point that you can feel the loss of meaning that comes from leaving the richness of the language and the traditions behind.
Kind of a veritable microcosm of the meaning crisis facing the West in its shift away from religion towards a muted scientific exercise. The scientific revolution and the worldview that emerged from it reads like the latter half of this book- cold data without any cohesive meaning making story. What's funny is how you can feel the author holding himself back in the first half, always qualifying the descriptives and the history. The nature of the second half betrays this eagerness.
And to be clear, what frames the first half of the book is a world in which spirit, God, the supernatural is very much real and true. That's what gives the places he is highlighting their significance and permanence. Hell isn't a static or singular idea, it is a complex idea that weaves its way through different cultural contexts, taking on different conceptions of evil and good. And yet there is a singular conviction that holds the language together- that the world is shaped by the spirit. To turn the page into the latter sections is to encounter a world devoid of the spirit. hence a world that has no use for the language of hell at all. And not only no use, but no way to utilize it. It becomes an exercise of a travel writer trying to slyly force an incohrent allegory/metaphor into an otherwise static descriptive of volcanos and caves (but mostly volcanos).
Just something I both noted and felt as I was reading it, and that I found intriguing and interesting. Its fascinating to consider that the places in the first half, places that are born from the old world, are places framed by tradition and importance, while the places he is talking about in the latter half will never have that relevance. Which is just to say, the reason why this book exists and can be written is because once upon a time the world was enchanted enough to understand its more than just its scientific data. That the engagement with such places are a witness to our experience of the world, not just to its material function.