Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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16 of 17 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Theroux's Masterwork, 23 Jul 2003
This book is undoubtedly one of the benchmarks for travel writing. Paired with his other great travel work, the Great Railway Bazaar, Theroux manages to cover almost the entire globe by train, meeting a curious menagerie of characters on route and describing places as they really are - scary, smelly, dangerous, beautiful, confusing, beguiling - rather than duping readers into thinking that all exotic places are by nature fabulous. Like much of Theroux's travel writing it gives off a palpable air of isolation and loneliness - and for anyone who has travelled alone in the strange places of the world this tone is genuinely evocative. A tour de force that is still to be matched by any of today's writers.
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14 of 15 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
"The journey, not the arrival, matters; the voyage, not the landing.", 22 Jun 2006
In 1979, Paul Theroux departed from his childhood home in Medford, Massachusetts, and began his train journey from the East Coast of the United States to Patagonia, on the southern tip of Argentina. A seasoned traveler, fluent in Spanish, Theroux brings this trip through the northern and southern hemispheres to life, traveling without a schedule, and observing his fellow passengers on the train and people at stops along the way.
In Texas he is astonished at the contrasts between Laredo on the Texas side of the Rio Grande and Nuevo Laredo across the border in Mexico, commenting on society and governments. Traveling through Mexico and Guatemala, he observes the poverty of the Indians and their lack of opportunities. In El Salvador he attends a soccer game and gets caught up in the melee and riots which follow it. In Costa Rica, the cleanest country he has visited, he finds himself stuck on the train with Mr. Thornberry, a New Hampshire tourist so boring that Theroux cannot wait to escape him--only to have Mr. Thornberry "save his life" by offering him a place to stay upon his arrival in Limon. In Panama he meets the "Zonians," from the Canal Zone, and in Cali, Colombia, he meets a married "priest" who cannot tell his devout mother in Belfast that he has "left" the church to marry and have children.
Throughout his trip, Theroux reads classics, particularly enjoying Boswell's Life of Dr. Johnson and Edgar Allen Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, both of which provide ironic reference points for his own journey. For literature lovers, the most fascinating section occurs in Buenos Aires, when Theroux spends many days visiting blind writer Jorge Luis Borges, who persuades Theroux to read to him. Ironically, one of Borges's favorite novels is The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym. As Theroux takes notes on his meetings with Borges, he becomes Borges's Boswell.
More an observer than a participant, Theroux has an unfortunate air of superiority about what he sees and hears. Sparing little sympathy for American and German tourists, he rarely gets excited about his surroundings, expressing genuine emotion only when he talks with three boys, ages ten to twelve, who live in a doorway and scavenge for food because their rural families have abandoned them. Theroux's self-congratulatory attitude gets a bit wearisome, but the picture of Central and South America, thirty years ago, and the section with Borges are unparalleled. With beautiful, carefully observed prose and a great ear for dialogue, Theroux's Patagonia Express is a landmark travel memoir. Mary Whipple
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4 of 4 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Love him or hate him...but he is good..., 22 May 2007
As others have pointed out, Theroux has a rather different style of travel writing from many others. Though he is clearly well read and conveys a great deal of knowledge through his writing, I have to agree that at times his judgemental nature regarding the people and places he encounters is annoying. The arrogance is profound but at times it almost seems naive - which for someone so well travelled seems bizarre.
At one point in the book, he comes across a guy in his young 20s who is reading a comic book. Theroux attacks this as evidence of a poor mind, is disappointed that he is not reading something more intellectually challenging! What exactly is he expecting a poor Peruvian to read - Byron? Bronte? Wordsworth? He almost seems to fail to consider the possibility that, in this young man's life, maybe comic books a form of escapism, where he can forget the poverty he lives in and engross himself in a fantasy.
I preferred Ryszard Kapuscinski's "The Shadow of the Sun" - that is to my mind the way travel books should be written. Tremendously informative yet at the same time capturing the very essence of the places he visits.
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