"Beginning his journey in Boston, where he boarded the subway commuter train, and catching trains of all kinds on the way, Paul Theroux tells of his voyage from ice-bound Massachusetts and Illinois to the arid plateau of Argentina's most southerly tip. Sweating and shivering by turns as the temperature and altitude shoot up and down, thrown in with the appalling Mr Thornberry in Limón and reading nightly to the blind writer, Borges, in Buenos Aires, Theroux vividly evokes the contrasts of a journey 'to the end of the line'."
The blurb sums up the book, but doesn't do it nearly the justice it deserves. It is, as I feel a blurb should be, a taster that doesn't give away any of the greater treats in store. Starting with his justifications for his style of writing, his feelings on travel writing and the purpose of a travel novel, he works interesting personal views and literary references (which, if you're anything like me, will leave you wanting to get your hands on the quoted works) into his descriptions of the peoples and places he encounters.
The descriptions of life and society through South America were interesting, and leave me wondering if much has changed in the 30 years since the book was published. I find his accounts of passing through the countries, from shanty towns through tourist traps, and the people he encounters along the way, much more honest and stark than some other travel writing, which is probably why I find his works are that cut above so many others in the genre.
An excellent travel writer (I'm not forgetting his other works, I just haven't strayed beyond his travel writing so couldn't possibly comment), I recommend any of his works on the subject. Interesting routes, beautifully written, highly entertaining - do you need any more encouragement?
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