This was one of those books that grab your brain in a chokehold and wont let go. I love travel writing, love it. I picked this up because I knew it contained chapters about Iran, a place in which I recently gained family. I wanted to read more about Iran and the idea of this book interested me as well as promising me something in the way of Iranian travel literature. I have very mixed feelings on how it delivered on that. I gave it 3,5 stars, mostly because it has stayed with me for so long. I still think about this book actively several times a week. The thing is I cannot explain why, there is really nothing absolutely fantastic or different about it. It is good for sure, but nothing about it explains why this book refuses to leave my brain alone.
The author, at least as he presented himself in this book, is a person I had very mixed feelings about as well. On the one hand he seems reasonable and appreciative of the generosity of the people he meets, he seems genuinely interested in experiencing the cultures and people he meets (unlike the worst of the tourists) on the other he is also so incredibly dismissive of other travellers. In fact it got ridiculous, it had a sort of childish atmosphere to it. I get that people travel, not to meet other people from their country, but to meet new people and new cultures but he seemed to ridicule the others while elevating himself (to be fair he did call himself out on this in the book). It got very unpleasant to read, gave me the same impression as when children get jealous of their friends getting the same toys for christmas as them. Other than that I found his narrative of Iran to be... strange. Now I am no expert, and I also know that this book was not written all too recently and that writers sometimes tend to make things more exotic and dramatic than they are for the sake of the readers’ enjoyment. It did however leave me feeling like he felt superior of Persians and he did spin the tired old ”carpet salesman”, ”everyone has a cousin/friend” and ”eastern charm” thing that while it probably does happen is pretty worn out. Persians are in fact not people who try to sell you a carpet or a ride in their cousin’s taxi all the time. Most city dwelling Persians are indeed so alike Europeans and other Westeners that it is hard fully understand that they are from a country so vastly different from for example my home country. In many parts of this book I felt like the author was living in his own Silk Road universe, where things are still like they were during the times of his travel heroes. I sort of liked the nostalgic feel this produced, but it did nothing for accurately or fairly describing a whole country. As for how accurate and up to date his descriptions of the other countries he passed through are, I cannot say as I know absolutely nothing about them.
This seems like a lot of critisism for a book I gave 3,5 stars, and it is. That is the thing about this book for me, I did not like the author one bit, but the writing stayed with me. It made me wonder about whole new things, made me try to find out more. It served its purpose, it made me seek out more knowledge and that is to me one of the main purposes of non-fiction. The writing was also not horrible in any way, the descriptions beautiful and I enjoyed ”meeting” the people he met. This is a good book, not an excellent book in my opinion, but good, and I would probably recommend it to a certain type of reader. I do know that this was one of the author’s early and fairly unedited works, so I will give him the benefit of doubt and I will read ”Walking The Americas” as well.