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1 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Travels along a normal distribution curve, 21 Nov 2002
Like all other anthologies of travel stories, WANDERLUST's collected essays will each have a purely subjective appeal based on the predilections of the reader. For me, the thirty-some tales in this book follow a normal distribution curve. My criteria for judging any on-the-road reminiscence are that it be sufficiently descriptive to make me want to visit the place myself (or not), and preferably contain lighthearted elements. (If one can't see the humor in mishaps far from home, he/she will certainly go nuts.) Thus, a few are terrific; a few are positively dismal; and most are just OK. Therefore, my three-star rating. It didn't help that there's no table of contents, a fact that I found annoying for no reason that I can logically defend.First, let me mention some of the best of the lot. Susan Hack's lament ("Tampax Nightmares") on the pitfalls to finding tampons in Third World countries, and Yemen in particular, was hilarious. (Here, I guess I must admit to being an Insensitive Male.) The essay by Mary Roach ("The Last Tourist In Mozambique") on her interview with that island's President, during which transcendental meditation was discussed and practiced, left me with little doubt as to why that country is in such a wretched condition. Don George's recollection of the family vacation ("Conquering Half Dome") with wife and two kids simply reinforced my intention never to attempt the feat myself - I'm sufficiently afraid of heights. While reading Lucy McCauley's "Expatriate, With Olives", I could feel the sun in my face and the olives in my hand as she stripped the latter from their branches in southern Spain. When Simon Winchester drives a Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit across Europe ("Romance In Romania"), the reaction this magnificent car elicits in a young woman in a dingy Romanian border town is positively poignant. Laura Fraser's getaway to the island of Ischia ("Italian Affair") is, perhaps, what the rest of us can only dream about during a normal day's silent desperation. Of course, there's the other end of the curve. Wendy Belcher's treatise ("Out Of Africa") examining the opening lines and themes common to a number of travel books on Africa was so excruciatingly ho-hum that I couldn't finish it - the only chapter so dishonored. Barry Yeoman's overwhelming need ("Embraced In Spain") to be adopted by the local crowd in Cádiz, in spite of his nervous stutter and half-out-of-the-closet gay lifestyle, verges on the pathetic. (The fact that he was unconditionally accepted by a group of locals makes for a warm and fuzzy, politically correct ending. But, it was hard to care.) David Downie's record ("Philosophy Au Lait") of the low drama in a Parisian philocafé was so much trivial prattle. (But, then, my shallow character has never concerned itself with life's deeper meanings.) Finally, Karl Greenfeld's self-absorbed jaunt through angst ("Fear, Drugs, and Soccer In Asia") left me hoping he would just snap out of it. There were quite a few "just OK" chapters, but I'll let you discover those for yourself. Indeed, someone else reading WANDERLUST will likely observe a distribution curve much different than mine - perhaps one skewed to the 1-star or 5-star end of the scale. For me, there was enough good stuff between the covers to make the book ultimately enjoyable. In the end, that's all I really ask.
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