Following the Equator

by Mark Twain

Following the Equator (sometimes titled More Tramps Abroad) is a non-fiction travelogue published by American author Mark Twain in 1897.
Twain was practically bankrupt in 1894 due to a failed investment into a "revolutionary" typesetting machine. In an attempt to extricate himself from debt of $100,000 (equivalent of about $2.5 million in 2010) he undertook a tour of the British Empire in 1895, a route chosen to provide numerous opportunities for lectures in the English.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Classics, Humor, History, Memoir, Adventure

430 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1897

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens, known by the pen name Mark Twain, was an American writer, humorist and essayist. He was praised as the "greatest humorist the United States has produced," with William Faulkner calling him "the father of American literature." His novels include The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876) and its sequel, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884), with the latter often called the "Great American Novel." Twain also wrote A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court (1889) and Pudd'nhead Wilson (1894), and co-wrote The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today (1873) with Charles Dudley Warner.

Reviews

[Frederick · Rating 5 out of 5]

If anybody tells you Mark Twain wasn't a liberal, find this book, put it in your posession and read every other chapter outloud to that person. Written rather late in his life (1891 or so), this is Twain's nonfiction account of a trip on a passenger ship around the equator. He writes a chapter describing a comic incident aboard ship and then the next chapter is a sober indictment of man's inhumanity to man. The chapters on Australia are most telling. He sees the Australia's treatment of Aboriginal peoples very much the same way he saw the American slave system. It offends his very being.
He describes the dinners given in his honor, the luxury afforded him and the good luck which accompanies him as he tours Australia and New Zealand. Mayors of small and large towns want to be photographed with him, people toast him. He travels in the fastest trains. Indeed, he marvels at the technology allowing him all this. But suddenly, as in one chapter in which he describes the systematic slaughter of Aborigines, the comic mask is tossed aside, and a man of utmost sensitivity is revealed. For we live in a world where one has to be extremely sensitive to notice the horror inflicted by conquerors on the vanquished. FOLLOWING THE EQUATOR makes such sudden shifts from light to darkness as to be shocking.
Twain is still an icon. Picture him in that white suit, with his white hair and white, flowing mustache. Imagine this man coming to your town. Brass bands play before he reaches the lectern. He tells hilarious stories, makes great comebacks when people try to show how comic they themselves are and he even smokes cigars with those who'll smoke with him. His train moves on. Several weeks later you read his article about your town. He says funny things you know are true. Suddenly, he refers to a little set of shacks he's seen from the train. You hadn't known he'd seen them. He describes the desperation of the people inhabiting them. He says your country put them in those shacks. He says his country has done that, too. He wants you to feel as ashamed of this as he is. But he made you laugh, didn't he? Why did he do that?

[Theo Logos · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mark Twain’s Following the Equator, chronicling a round the world lecture tour of the British Empire he embarked on to pay massive business debts, is a handy-dandy Swiss Army knife of a book. It contains a long blade of eccentrically chosen travel details noting various flora and fauna, climate, indigenous folk, food, customs, etc., backed up by a short blade of social commentary delivered with a twist of Twain’s famous satirical wit. Of course, there’s the corkscrew of Twain’s humor, side by side with the can opener of tall tales tangentially related to his travels and presented with a wink. (Two of these tall tales were later extracted and anthologized in The Complete Short Stories of Mark Twain.) Finally, there is the sharp, penetrating toothpick of Twain’s exacting social consciousness. It’s a rambling, hodgepodge of a book that can often feel like Twain is regaling you with stories over whiskey and cigars.

Following the Equator was one of the last major works Twain published in his lifetime. It is an interesting bookend to his first book which established his career, The Innocents Abroad. While Following the Equator isn’t quite of the same quality as that earlier book, it is interesting to compare and contrast these two travel books from his youth and from his age. The brash young man from the earlier book is all cheeky mockery of a bourgeois world he desperately hopes to become part of, while the aged sixty year old of the later book is wiser and more cynical about that world he has long been a part of and found wanting. Reading the two in close proximity can give you the Cliff Notes of Mark Twain’s career.

[Alan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Twain's house in Hartford, around the corner from Harriet Beecher Stowe's smaller one, was a half hour south from where I grew up in Springfield, Massachusetts— not to mention Dickinson’s and Frost’s houses in Amherst, a half hour north. (I've also visited Twain's summer cottage octagon where he typed Tom Sawyer now on the Elmira College campus, New York.)
As an over-read Ph.D. in English, with a dozen post-doctoral seminars mostly at the Ivies, I still have many volumes of Twain unread from the complete edition inherited from my wife’s grandmother, Iva Grapes (Mohl), a Hamline College grad in WWI. Twain wrote many volumes of travel, from A Tramp Abroad, both volumes, and Tom Sawyer Abroad, all of which I’ve recently reviewed on GoodReads.
But who would turn to Twain for insights on Aussie dialect, or the Indian caste system? The more fool us for not exploring beyond America with Twain.

 Volume 1 of Following the Equator, starts from France, returning shipboard to U.S., then off on a world tour.  He just crossed the Pacific equator southward, and left the constellation Big Bear behind (a failed name, he says, until Congress renamed it the Big Dipper).  Looking for the Southern Cross, he renames it the Southern Kite (p.75).
As for re-naming, I’ve been calling “Shuffleboard” wrong all my life, it’s Shovel-board, also called, Horse-billiards (61). Lots of Hawaiian words, like “lanai” for a large open reception room. Molokai Island is a leper colony, their one great innovation, at death “a band salutes the freed soul with a burst of glad music”(58). Rather like a Jazzman’s funeral, “When the Saints go marchin’ in.”
Twain recalls an earlier visit, “In my time, ice was seldom seen in Honolulu [though] it sometimes came in sailing vessels from New England as ballast”(55). Fall River, MA produced so much ice they shipped to NYC and Panama; the Arctic Ice House is still there, on North Watuppa Lake. There’s no roadside sign, though I proposed one to the parks people who said it would encourage vandalism. The large granite icehouse has open 8’ slits—floorless doors for every level, to move large blocks of ice on top of others, with sawdust between. Now those slits are filled with trees, hardly visible.
We learn we should all have vices—smoking, swearing, alcohol, gambling— that we can give up to improve our health. He admits he cannot cut back, but he can give up entirely. When he meets a woman with no vices, he concludes she cannot be cured (22).
On the way to Fiji, they see the only free independent commercial American ship, from Duluth!

Fiji, 224 islands originally among nine kings—all bigger than commoners— had been turned over to Britain to avoid a huge debt to America. Identified by “a broad belt of clean white coral sand around the island”(90), Fiji sand is not used as in Stevenson’s Samoa, a literal outhouse, flushed by ocean tide. Twain admires the natives, “Handsome, great dusky men they were, muscular, clean-limbed, and with faces full of character and intelligence”(91).
The Fijians even have n idea of immortality, at odds with Christianity:’s, too sweeping: their friends had been eaten by sharks “caught and eaten by men.” How then could the particles of the original men be searched out and put together again? But the Christian missionaries kept one Fijian immortality: flowers that die rise on the winds and flourish in heaven (97).
Australia is so depopulated--one native per 25,000 acres-- that "Recruiters" steal natives from far islands and leave them in Australia for 3 years, to "civilize" them. Slave trading, really, resisted by the missionaries. A writer on Sydney, Mr Gane, has "caught the panegyrics" as if praise is a disease (127). The local language, "A tyble for a lydy," actually British working-class. The English settlers refer to England as "at home"; the Governor of New South Wales is always "at home."(137) though the Governor's palace on a height of land, with a great view of the sea.

Vol II begins, “The steamer Oceana. A Laskar crew, the first that I have seen. White cotton petticoat and pants; barefoot; short straight black hair. Mild, good faces; capable, too; but are said to go into hopeless panics when there is danger. They are from Bombay and the coasts thereabouts….This Oceana is a stately big ship. Spacious promenade decks. Large rooms, a surpassingly comfortable ship. The officers’ library is well selected; a ship’s library is not usually that. For meals, the bugle call, man-o-war fashion. Pleasant change from the terrible gong. Three large cats; the white one follows the chief steward around like a dog. [Cats are required by British law.] Conversational items at dinner. A man said, ‘There is no market in Australia for Australian wines. But it goes to France , then comes back with a French label on it, then they buy it.’ I have heard that most of the French-label wine in New York is made in California”(12).

Ceylon/Sri Lanka:
"Dear me, it is beautiful! And most sumptuously tropical, the foliage and the opulence of it. 'What though the spicey breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle'-- an eloquent line, an incomparable line; it says little, but conveys whole libraries of sentiment, and Oriental charm and mystery, and tropic deliciousness--a line that quivers and tingles with a thousand unexpressed and inexpressible things, things that haunt one and find no articulate voice....Colombo, the capital. An Oriental town, most manifestly; and fascinating....
I was in Cairo years ago, and that was Oriental, but there was a lack. [but here in Colombo} the juggler was there, with his basket, his snakes, his mongoose, and his arrangements for growing a tree from seed to foliage and ripe fruitage before one's eyes...and out a little way in the country were the proper deadly snakes, and the wild elephant and the monkey. And there was that swoon in the air which one associates with the tropics, and that smother of heat, heavy with odors of unknown flowers, and that sudden invasion of purple gloom fissured with lightnings,--then the tumult of crashing thunder and the downpour--and presently all sunny and smiling again (p.19)

Twain admires Indian dress, "The stuffs were silk--thin, soft, delicate, clinging; and, as a rule, each piece a solid color: a splendid green, a splendid ruby, rich with smouldering fires--they swept continuously by in crowds and legions and multitudes, glowing, flashing, burning, radiant.."(21) The great dissonance of Western dress, first of schoolgirls, then business men. "Then I looked at my own clothes, and was ashamed to be seen in the street with myself."
Hearing the Indian Blackbird, raucous chatter when he gets to Bombay (Try Indian Blackbird on xeno-canto.org) . "In the matter of noise it amounted to a riot, an insurrection...crows squawking, and deriding, cursing, canaries screeching..Peace lasted until 5(AM). Then it broke loose again, The Bird of Birds, the Indian crow...Yes, the cheerfulest, and best satisfied with himself. In the course of his reincarnations ha has been a dissolute priest, a fussy lady, a swindler a meddler, and intruder...The incredible result is he does not know what care is, what sorrow is, what remorse is...Nothing escapes him, and he brings out his opinion...At the other end of the porch, they talk about my clothes, how I came to India, and how I happened to go unhanged for so long...When I would shoo them away, they would circle around laughing and deriding" Their number is beyond estimate (33).

Learned much on the Indian/Hindu caste system. Twain's "bearer"/ servant speaks a form of English, says his name Manuel, same as his father's, but not his mother's; his father from Goa, "Portygee," mother, high-caste Brahmin, as is he. ..Christian god very good; Hindoo god very good, too. Two million Hindoo god, one Christian--make two million and one. All mine. I got plenty." Twain asked him to go and clean up the bathroom. He started packing some of my clothes. I repeaated the request several times, and he went and put a coolie at the work, and explained he would lose caste if he did it himself...would cost him a good deal of fuss and trouble to purify himself and accomplish his rehabilitation. He said that kind of work was strictly forbidden to persons of caste, ans as strictly restricted to the very bottom layer, the despised Sudra. The term-- laborer-- is a term of contempt. The 900 B.C. Institutes rule that 'if a Sudra sit on a level with his superior he shall be branded [no clothes to cover it]; if he speak contemptuously of his superior he shall suffer death; if he isten to the reading of the sacred books he shall have boiling oil poured in his ear."(45) Yet the bulk of the population of India--the workers, the farmers, the creators fo wealth--is the Sudras, who are themselves forbidden to accumulate wealth.

Twain gives up the sluggish Manuel for a speedy bearer with an impossible name, so he calls him Satan. The first guest he announces, "God wants to see you. I show him up, master?" Twain is flabbergasted , especially when God asks Twain about "the philosophy of Huck Finn...." "I had hoped, almost expected to be read by kings and presidents-- but I had never lloked so high as That"(49). Turns out, God was from a Persian family, and gods ran in the family. (I believe John Updike knew, and may have roomed with a prince/god from a small kingdom near India.)

Who knew the Bombay mastery of forgery and perjury, the higher arts of swindling. "India in especial is the home of forgery....The business is carried on by firms who possess stores of stamped papers to suit every emergency....Some of the older and more thriving houses can supply documents for the past forty years, bearing the proper watermark and possessing the genuine appearance of age. Other districts have earned notoriety for skilled perjury, a pre-eminence that excites a respectful admiration when one thinks of the universal prevalence of the art, and persons...are ready to pay handsomely to avail themselves of these local experts as witnesses"(81).

AS for the Indian trains, "No car in any country is quite its equal for comfort (ans privacy) I think. For usually there are but two persons in it...Our own cars at home can surpass the railway world in all details but one: there are too many people together"(91). Twain describes the national Thugee group, who make their living by murder, even murdering holy fakirs and beggars, as well as everybody else. Always by choking, with a cloth around their victim's neck, and associates who hold the seated victims' feet and hands, the latter in their own hands. They choke by expertly twisting the cloth so that the victim makes no sound. Thugees worship a god Bowhanee. Thousands of these Thugees were supressed by the British Empire, under Major Sleeman (112).

Twain even loves waiting at train stations in India--"the monster crowd of bejewelled natives, the stir, the bustle, the confusion, the shifting splendors of the costumes" among others satisfying things, a minor native prince from the backwoods somewhere, with his guard of honor, ragged but a wonderfully gaudy gang of fity dark barbarians armed with rusty flintlock muskets"(169).

[John Otto · Rating 4 out of 5]

I feel sorry for folks whose exposure to Mark Twain is limited to Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Although those are good books, I really love his travel writing. Following the Equator is not a book you would want to read to find out the best route to take, the best places to eat and sleep or what to see. But, it is a book to read if you enjoy sardonic humor, with Twain's wry comments about what he sees. One surprising thing to me, given Twain's causal use of racial slurs is his outrage at how the whites in South Africa were treating the blacks, which he linked to how Americans treated native Americans. But the reason to read Twain these days is that he is still so funny. Here's a passage about the clothes he saw the Boers wearing in South Africa:

A gaunt, shackly country lout six feet high, in battered gray slouched hat with wide brim and old resin-colored breeches, had on a hideous brand-new woolen coat which was imitation tiger skin-- wavy broad stripes of dazzling yellow and deep brown. I thought he ought to be hanged, and asked the stationmaster if it could be arranged. He said no; and not only that, but said it rudely; said it with a quite unnecessary show of feeling. Then he muttered something about my being a jackass, and walked away and pointed me out to people, and did everything he could to turn public sentiment against me. It is what one gets for trying to do good.

[Skallagrimsen]

I was a huge Mark Twain fan when I read Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World around my late teens, so it hurt to confess I found this book tedious for long, long stretches (like travel itself, I suppose: perhaps that was the point?). It often read to me less like a finished book than as the diary of a traveler obsessed with recording even the minutest detail of his journey. A diarist with a trenchant eye and a superb command of language, to be sure: Twain's literary genius flashed through just often enough to keep me turning the endless pages. You'd never know what gem of insight, outrage, or wit you might unearth deep within even the dullest chapter. There's a great book in there. It's just ensconced inside several hundred pages of filler. (Although I suppose even the filler has value to a social historian or anthropologist interested in the minutiae of nineteenth century globalism.)

[Marta · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Viajar es fatal para los prejuicios, el fanatismo y la estrechez de miras, y mucha de nuestra gente lo necesita gravemente por estas razones. No se pueden adquirir puntos de vista amplios, saludables y caritativos sobre los hombres y las cosas vegetando toda la vida en un pequeño rincón de la tierra.”

[Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can hardly imagine anything better than traveling the globe with Mark Twain. His wit and keen powers of observation were abundantly apparent. Sadly, so was his prejudice; although, one must remember that this was written in an entirely different time, and that, thankfully most people have become more evolved and educated since then. One also has to remember that, as Twain reminds us himself in the book, he was brought up during slavery, to accept slavery and denigration of those of different ethnicity as normal.

One story, that involved him naming an Indian servant Satan had me exasperated at his presumption at making such a joke at someone else's expense and at the same time had me rolling on the floor laughing when Satan brought Twain God's calling card. That's just the crux of the story, it was a few pages in length, and the funniest passage I think I've ever read. However, the lack of respect for his servant as a human being and for the religion of others in the story, did, as I say, quite leave me feeling exasperated.

This was a fabulous read, though. One of my favorites of the year so far.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

I keep forgetting how much fun it is to read any of Mark Twain's travel books. I loved The Innocents Abroad, and now also Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World. It tells of a around the world voyage with long stopovers in Australia and India and shorter visits to New Zealand, Ceylon, Mauritius, and South Africa.

Never does Mark Twain forget he is a humorist. He strives to turn every incident in his trip into a comic essay (with several exceptions, as when he is talking about injustice to indentured Hawaiian workers, the Great Mutiny of India, and the beginnings of the Boer War in the Transvaal). If one of his efforts doesn't work, he'll try again a page or two later. The result is that Following the Equator is a book that is fun to pick up and read. In fact, I am saddened that I finished it so quickly. (Maybe I should read his A Tramp Abroad next.)

[Jason Pettus · Rating 5 out of 5]

(In October 2015, my arts center had a chance to sell a first edition, first printing of Mark Twain's "Following the Equator." [Want to see if it's still for sale? Visit http://www.ebay.com/usr/cclapcenter .] Below is the write-up I did of it for the eBay listing.)

By 1894 Mark Twain was already famous but was also almost completely broke, because of a bad series of investments in futuristic technology that would've never been able to work at the time they were being invented (he sunk what would now be eight million dollars alone into a machine that was designed to automatically set its own type like a computer); and so to get himself out of debt, he agreed to go on another of his famous worldwide tours, this time to far-flung locations all within the Victorian British Empire (including Australia, India, South Africa and more), not only to do a hugely profitable series of speaking engagements but then to write down his experiences into a third volume of darkly humorous foreign travelogues, after his insanely successful The Innocents Abroad and A Tramp Abroad. The aging Twain disliked the trip, lamenting that he couldn't just stay at home with his family; but the result is the exquisite 1897 Following the Equator, a grand return to his youthful irreverent form, after starting to get a little more high-falutin' in his themes and scope in his recent novels. (Huck Finn had been published less than a decade before, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court a few years after that.)

For those who only know Twain through classroom assignments on these more famous novels, his travel writing is a real revelation, a series of grumpy and subversive dispatches on the idiocy of the human race no matter where they live, which essentially made him the Gilded Age's version of P.J. O'Rourke. Today's copy is an ultra-rare true first printing in great shape, commanding the premium price it deserves, and will automatically become one of the jewels in any Victoriana or American Humor collection that it's added to, appropriate even for acquisition by a historical society or small museum. Don't hesitate with your interest, for this is sure to sell before too long.

[Steve · Rating 3 out of 5]

I finished reading Following the Equator or More Tramps Abroad by Mark Twain. I’m getting down to the last decade plus of Twain’s life, and if he has no more great fiction in him, he still has plenty left to say. Unless the equator in 1896 was considerably more erratic than it is today, this travelogue of a trip to Australia, New Zealand, India, and South Africa (with a few smaller stops here and there) doesn’t exactly live up to its title. But Twain’s observations are fascinating, as always, and he makes more than a few trenchant comments. Here’s a good one: “There are many humorous things in the world; among them the white man’s notion that he is less savage than the other savages.” Of course, this brings up the difficulty for the modern reader. While Twain is far more sympathetic to the native populations of these countries than the average 19th Century white man, he still considers them through the eyes of a privileged person. There are more than a few twinges which come from his off-hand dismissal of what he calls savages. It’s hard to tell where his sarcasm ends and his true opinions begin when he, for example, praises Britain for its improvements in India over what had gone before. There is a pretty hilarious bit comparing the pale skins of his countrymen with the many shades of those in that subcontinent. As has happened before in Twain’s work, I gather he grew bored with the project near the end – the South African section is a mish-mash of secondary sources regarding the Boer Wars, with little of his own thoughts on what things were like there at the time. No matter, though – Twain’s company is always worth having, even if it would be nice to talk back to him now and again.

[Marti · Rating 3 out of 5]

I guess there is a reason this compilation is not as well known as Innocents Abroad or A Tramp Abroad. Although it is not mentioned in the text, if I remember right, this was a low point for Twain. The yearlong trip was occasioned by near bankruptcy and comprised a seemingly endless series of lectures encompassing cities in Australia, New Zealand, India, South Africa (and other island communities along the way); this a result of his famously bad business deals.

Therefore, this was not exactly a pleasure trip even if Twain did manage to get in a lot of sightseeing. His mood is evident in that there are a lot of cynical observations on man's greed, hypocrisy, and inhumanity to his fellow man. And while he would be considered a progressive even by today's standards; it does not change the fact that his attitudes toward the native cultures sound a bit paternalistic due to the prevailing attitudes of the time.

That said, it was still an enjoyable read, filled with the kind of weird anecdotes Twain is fond of. These usually involve prisoners, confidence men, and other swindlers; or are stories of doubtful veracity gleaned from the locals he meets. For me the most interesting parts were in India as it furnished an endless supply of material, both for cynicism and comedy (like how almost everyone knew of the "Congress of World Religions" held as part of the 1893 Columbian Exposition, which convinced them that Chicago was a "Holy City"). Unlike Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa, which were largely similar to the United States and Britain, Twain thought India the most exotic place he'd ever been. Thus, if you are not exactly familiar with things like the Suttee, the Black Hole of Calcutta, or the "Thugs" (the murderous gang from which the word in English is derived), you will want to know more by the time you are done.

Definitely a worthwhile read in that you will learn something.

[Maria · Rating 4 out of 5]

As usual, a highly entertaining account of Twain travels. This time he travels through the Pacific - Australia, New Zealand, India, Africa mainly - with stops at various islands and smaller countries. The chapters on India were disturbing, detailing murder and suicide in the late 19th century there. My India history is somewhat vague. I had a general idea but the specifics were hard to take. Also hard to take were all of the chapters dealing with the white man's subjugation of black natives - Australia, New Zealand, etc. The highlight of the book for me was the chapter headings with one entry from Puddn'head Wilson's New Calendar for each. I also appreciated that this book puts to rest forever as far as I'm concerned how Twain really felt about blacks and slavery, i.e., his earlier books were in no way intended to denigrate blacks or uphold slavery, which he hated in spite of having grown up with it as an accepted fact. Wonderful book.

[Sylvester (Taking a break in 2023) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had the impression that Twain was acerbic. Instead, I found him curious, respectful but no fraidy-cat either. His criticisms are wrapped in such wry humour, I think it would be difficult for his worst enemy not to laugh - at himself. My opinion of him shot skyward after reading this book. There is so much chatty information and wit in FTE that I am at a loss where to begin. Okay - loved the bit about the passengers watching dolphins covered with bioluminescence racing and diving through the dark waters - what an amazing experience that must have been! And the bit about India and it's Thugees -! Did not know that. Or the complaint against pajamas - M.T. much preferred nightshirts, apparently. Has his reasons. Or when describing the ship's library, says that it's a good one for the sole reason that it doesn't contain "The Vicar of Wakefield" or anything by Jane Austen!! I think Twain may just have been the perfect man.

[Amanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

For my first book on my brand new nook color, I thought I would start with one of the books that I have always wanted to read, but could never find a copy. Reading it would be a new experience.

I enjoyed this book. I have always enjoyed Twain's nonfiction-- or whatever you want to call it-- immensely. This one stood up to the earlier ones that I've read until about three-quarters the way through where it moves into an essay about South African politics much like his essay on the Congo and King Leopold of Belgium.

It is a very descriptive telling of a journey around the world, no matter how much politics there was at the end. It is filled with Twain's fluid prose on all matters on the places he visits, from India to Australia. Very worth your time.

[Bob Schnell · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm normally a big fan of Mark Twain's travelogues, but "Following the Equator" is my least favorite so far. It is a mixed bag of anecdotes, sparse journal entries, descriptions of historical battles, observations (politically incorrect ones in these times) of race, dress, cultural touchstones, religion and nature along with various miscellaneous chapters that don't fit any category. Many of the things described were new to his readers at the time but today they are a bit old hat. What is really missing is Twain's wry "innocent abroad" touch that elevated his other travel books beyond mere observation and reporting.

There are plenty of bits to enjoy, but it would have been nice if Twain had made a bit more effort to put it all into a more coherent narrative.

[Jay French · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’ve enjoyed Twain’s books on travel, but perhaps this one felt a bit too much. Twain enjoys telling stories, that’s for granted. Here, he goes back and forth telling stories about how great a foreign country is, with its buildings and nature and its people, then relating often second-hand stories of how terrible and savage those same people can be. His extended story of the Thugs of India and their non-stop murders got to be quite long, as did his history of the Boers. There was a mood of cynicism throughout the book. Having said that, you can’t beat a funny Twain anecdote, and there are quite a few along the way. My favorite concerned the speculated origins of Cecil Rhodes first fortune, based on a fast swimming shark.

[Christiane · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of my favourite books by Mark Twain and it is interesting to compare this with his youthful account of his voyage on the “Quaker City“ (“The Innocents Abroad”, 1869) with its freshness, boisterousness, irreverence and total political incorrectness.

“Following the Equator” (1897) is the work of an older, wiser, more thoughtful and philosophical Mark Twain and he has never written more beautiful prose; the chapters on India are priceless.

There is humour, of course, but he doesn’t go overboard, doesn’t exaggerate quite as wildly as he used to (but for those who like to be offended, there is still enough political incorrectness!).

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Five stars because it's by Mark Twain, whom I love and trust pretty much unconditionally.

In his travel writing, Twain can be relied upon to cast upon humanity and its works a fresh, amused (or scornful), clear-eyed gaze. Except, it seems, Australia. No traveller has ever entertained so many pleasant illusions about this place. I wonder what we paid him?

(But he was scathing about the use of indentured labour on the cane fields).

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a really fun romp around the world with Mark Twain. His adventures in Australia and India are priceless. This is also the source of so many quotes from "puddin' head Wilson's new calendar".

[Terry Cornell · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mark Twain's writings as he circumnavigates the world. Part travelogue, part diary, part story telling. Amusing read, and revealing that some things--in particular politics never change.

[Illiterate · Rating 3 out of 5]

Twain’s Imperial tour. Amusing anecdotes, colorful scenes, caustic comments on white man’s burden.

[Tom Allman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Most entertaining book ever written. READ THIS BOOK!

[Mary · Rating 3 out of 5]

Continuing the journey through the Great Unread, this time with a narrative of an actual journey...

[Seamus Thompson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overall, just okay (**) but there are enough moments that I really liked (****) or found amazing (*****) that I think a three-star rating is more accurate.

There are lots of gems here and many of the aphorisms that begin each chapter (attributed to Puddd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar) are masterpieces but, at the end of the day, I have to confess that Twain's brand of humor tends to grow tiresome for me -- especially in a book this long. Having tried the print edition years ago, I listened to the audiobook this time around and, despite a truly masterful reading by Michael Kevin, found myself losing interest at about the same point (a little past the halfway mark). That said, for those who do enjoy Twain's humor (or those who have read his fiction and would like to come more intimate contact with the author and his opinions) Following the Equator is a travelogue treasure trove of anecdotes, observations, and opinions (reporting the effects of colonialism invariably finds Twain's wit at its most acidic). It's also an interesting glimpse of a time when touring the world by steamship and train was an occupation of sorts. I'm never quite ready to give up on Twain because there is so much about his work that is admirable and compelling, so I'll probably give this (or something else of his) another shot before long.

[Galicius · Rating 4 out of 5]

After “Innocents Abroad” and “Roughing It” this was a much rougher journey. I am surprised that Mark Twain’s wife and daughter accompanied him on this tough adventure. He barely mentions them. This is your real adventure into “parts unknown”. Twain digs into earlier histories of Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand, India, as well as his notes from his own earlier journeys. He compares, for example, men only working in the fields in India, and women slaving in Bavaria, and France that he saw before. But he centers primarily on four countries: Australia, New Zealand, India, and South Africa. There are a couple of brief stops in Fiji, and Mauritius. I learned histories of India, such as one about the Thuds, and massacres during the English occupation, as well as the extermination of natives of Tasmania, that were new to me. The Pudd'nhead Wilson citations at the headings of each chapter are sometimes very incisive: "It could probably be shown by facts and figures that there is no distinctly native American criminal class except Congress." (Chapter 8)

[Paul Peterson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mr. Twain was still poignant, but not cynical at this writing. Very witty and, at times, almost breathtaking in descriptive ability. Most of this Volume II is set in India, whereas most of Volume I took place in Hawaii, and is just as illuminating as was the first.

If you are a Twain fan but haven't read "Following the Equator" yet, please do.

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

this mixed a lot of tedium in with the gems of wit and wisdom. In recommending it, I'd say for the biggest of Twain fans. But read Innocents Abroad, A Tramp Abroad, Roughing It before you read this one.

[C-shaw]

A free Kindle download. I may not ever finish it because I do love reading Mark Twain's quotations and witticisms, but no so much his long and drawn-out prose.
* * * * *
I just don't think I can finish this, alas and alack.

[Dad · Rating 5 out of 5]

The guy was a genius- read it. And what a sense of humor!

[Meg · Rating 5 out of 5]

Twain had such amazing abilities to see things as they really were...my first and favorite travelogue.