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Why is this the top hit on a google image search of "travel"?
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Welcome to the blog for this fall's UAS English 418 class on travel. As you know, your assignment this week is to read the recent collection The Best American Travel Writing 2014 with an eye toward determining the key features of the contemporary genre--or at least what Paul Theroux and the editors at Mariner Books think defines the genre.
We will use this blog over the course of the semester to track our engagement with the course material. The assignment is pretty simple. As the syllabus notes, you should prepare a single interpretive question and then attempt to answer it. You should post both your question and answer in the "comments section" here; your post should demonstrate that you've read thoughtfully and thoroughly, and it should also spark some discussion about the significance of the course texts.
They are called 12-minute writes on the idea that you should spend about 12 minutes actually writing. Set your timer. Try to get your ideas down. So long as you are communicating ideas effectively, we won't judge your typos and spelling errors. We can edit and rethink later. Also, it's helpful if you can print your post and bring it to class, as we'll sometimes use them to get discussion rolling.
Over the course of the semester, it is my hope that this will prove to be an interesting forum for exchanging ideas and getting thoughts formulated before our class discussions.
Jessika (Bambi) Caudy
ReplyDeleteSeptember 6, 2015
Many people travel. Travel can be across continents, across the country, or merely just moving the next state over. The genre of travel has a variety of aspects that reoccur such as bad-luck, spontaneous decision, making connection, and even putting yourself to the limit of your moral comfort zone. What interests me most about travel however is, how does travel affect the way one view’s their own world/life?
Through Theroux’s novel we saw journalists travel to far away, and often exotic places with many different cultural opportunities to explore. Connections and friends were made and memories shared. When you read between the lines of these stories however, you find the author’s making many tiny (and sometimes great) comparisons between the place they live and the place they visit. In “Amigos”, Julia befriends a Cuban prostitute named Sandra. You can see in Julia’s descriptions of Sandra and her life style that she is making comparisons between her life in America where prostitution is illegal and that of a legal prostitute’s in Cuba. It’s in the words and descriptions that Julia gives that allow the reader (especially an American reader) see the reflections being made.
Also, a reoccurring problem I noted in the entries in the book is the journalist’s grappling with heir situation. In “Excuse us while we kiss in the sky” the author speaks of a man who has seemingly left his position as an objective observer and has immersed himself in the customs of urban exploring. Near the end of the story, even our journalist faces the question, “Am I still observing and learning or am I participating?” as he is thrilled by the illegal activities he is surrounded by. Many of the journalists have made numerous visits to the places where they traveled, often seeing and going to the same places and people. They begin to live in 2 places, their home and the traveled to place.
What really fascinates me is when at almost every conclusion to every entry, the author reflects on what it’s like to be back at home after traveling. How their home town and life style seem dull or foreign. Some reflect the joys of being home with comfort, but the vast majority speaks as though their travel had changed them, even at a miniscule level. In “Now we are five” David even buys a house in the returned to family vacation spot to forever hold onto the joy and simplicities of travel, which he sadly later regrets.
It seems that the travels of the various journalists all consisted of at least one similar thing, they all reflected on themselves and where they are compared to the people they encountered while they traveled. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes for a little worse, but all the authors did at some point reevaluate their views on the people around them and themselves.
Travel is universal. Whether one is traveling across countries or down the road to the store, it is something that everyone does. As such, there are several different perspectives on what constitutes travel. As was discussed earlier, the genre of traveling can be vague and complex to clearly define.
ReplyDeleteOne of the interesting aspects to me is the fact that people travel in order to find new places, places they have never been. There is that element that travel has to be to a place that is new and mysterious. In addition to that, travel writing becomes a chance for other people to live vicariously through someone else's story.
Theroux's novel presented several stories where both of those things were displayed. In "This Must Be The Place," the author even commented that he wanted people to "live vicariously through us." There is this pressure or this expectation that others will read about your adventures and be able to transport themselves into that atmosphere and appreciate the things with which you have taken the time to detail and describe.
It is a drive for the field of travel writing. How can this be written so that others will want to read it and understand what it felt like to be in that situation? Whether it is depicting the beauty of the place or the people of Guzman, or the description of horror and gore in watching a goat slaughtered in Calcutta, or the humor found in a 14 hour ride on a Greyhound bus, there are different methods people use but they are all attempting the same thing.
People want to travel to places they haven't been and see things they haven't seen, but they want to describe those things in ways that will inspire others or allow others to have the chance to travel through their writing.
While this is a small aspect of why people travel, it seemed to be a driving force for many of them. Some, like Matthew Power, took it to the extreme and went to great lengths to see things that others don't normally do.
People travel for different reasons, but at the heart of travel is this drive to be outside of ourselves and daily life. To enter this area of the unfamiliar and the mysterious. It seems as though people need to experience something unknown to truly appreciate what they have in their lives and to widen their experiences and their view of the world. In addition, the excitement found in traveling is sometimes experienced in the fact that it was completely outside of the expectations that one had for the trip. It was beyond anything they could have imagined, but the unknown element made it worthwhile and drives the need to repeat the experience in another place that holds the same mystery and sense of adventure.
Horrible. I spent 12 minutes typing out my comment, then when I clicked to post it, it went to sign in at Gmail, then deleted my comment. Horrible.
ReplyDeleteSame happened to me :(
DeleteDo we need a justification for this genre? Does asking for a justification create the polarization that we see?
ReplyDeleteThis question sprang to mind just while reading the foreword, when Wilson explains the convention of "why I went". I thought this was a pretty obvious point to make and didn't really understand why it was worth mentioning--I mean, of course there's a "why". Does one "why" justify a trip more than another? Does one reason to go challenge another's genuineness? I mean...who cares why you went, as long as you went, right? Or is it more like, "Who cares why you went, as long as you went and have a good story?" Paterniti writes in "This Must Be the Place" about how we are expected to bring back a good story when we travel. I think that's true,but the important part for me to frame my questions about this genre is that the travel writer wants to bring back a NEW story. I mean, I know that's why I want to travel. The distinction between the "why" part of the story seems to distinguish the tourist from the traveller, "the tourist makes a brief visit and leaves money behind. By contrast, a traveler is typically a budget-minded backpacker who lingers and is self-sufficient" (Theroux xix).It seems to me that the tourist doesn't encounter fear or travail which, according to Wilson and Camus, makes their travel valueless. I have to agree with Wilson's claim that "travel is about fear and suffering and travail...But this truth is only partially correct. Travel is also very much about love and memory". In "A Moving Experience", Swick writes about the polarization of the genre, and it seems like the stories in the genre fall under those written by tourists (the paradise) and travellers (the inferno). When I think about the stories I like to read or the travelling experiences that have meant a lot to me, it's the stories of love in spite of hardship that draw me in. Those are the stories I want to tell. Like, "I was really scared and lost in Prague, BUT a really nice man helped me". Or, "I was lost on a trail in Hawaii after night fell, BUT my companion and I found another lost party that really needed help and during our trek, I happened to look up and saw the most beautiful stars through the jungle trees". In my experience, the fear is tied to the memory and love. When it comes to determining value, I think Camus' point about fear is definitely valid and it's true that stories of suffering can be more interesting, but maybe when we try to assign value or motivations it contributes to the polarization of the traveller. The question of tourist v.s. traveller in this genre interests me because it also involves questioning ethics, values, and genuineness.
When you travel, you often experience things that are new, exciting, or different. Sometimes these things change you and change the way you look at the world. I find myself wondering about how this new view might affect your life after you return from your trip. When you find yourself settling back into your everyday life, does it change anything? How does traveling affect the travelers perspective of his home? Does it effect his actions?
ReplyDeleteIn the short story “This Must Be the Place”, a man finds his place, so to speak, in the world. A place he returns to year after year, decade after decade. He writes that it made him realize how fast paced and crazy his life in America is - that everytime he returns home, he just wants to slow down and experience the here and now. In many ways, he was affected by his time away. He started to blend his bagel eating life with his cheese life. He wrote that he would often remind himself to stop every once in a while and look around him. He learned to appreciate life as it happened.
I argue that not only can travel make you experience your life diffenetly, but it makes you appreciate life more. I’m sure that the man in “In the Abode of the Gods” learned to appreciate his medical care, his dry clothes, his shower, and other things much more after his hike in the Tibetan Mountains. He probably felt healthier spiritually and physically. Seeing the happy, joy-filled girl during his worst moments made him realize the amazing strength behind company and encouragment – that having people in your life is a gift.
I always appreicate Juneaus clean, fresh water more when I get back from traveling down south. I appreciate the gentle thrumming of rain on my roof more after I return from 100 degree weather. I appreciate the lack of traffic, the ability to see the stars clearly, and to breathe the pure Alaskan air. I think that travel does change things. It changes not only how you view the place you traveled, but how you view home and what home means to you.
Many of these stories describe impractical, difficult, or even dangerous travels. Why is that such a common theme? In what ways do challenges, tough times, and suffering contribute to the authenticity of travel?
ReplyDeleteI noticed the word 'pilgrimage' popping up in many of these stories, and whether it is meant more literally (as in "In the Abode of the Gods") or figuratively (as in most of the others), it conjures up a sense of an arduous journey that must be undertaken to change one’s life or way of thinking, to bring them closer to a spiritual goal or heightened state. While most of the stories did not involve actual religious journeys, the authors seemed to write of their travels as if they are absolutely necessary life-changing events. Even in a story approached with a light heart and humor, "Fifty Shades of Greyhound," the author is willingly putting himself in an extremely unpleasant situation for no apparent practical reason. In "Dream Acres," a classic ‘conquering of the wild’ tale, the author describes how he never wants to give up his shack in remote southeast Alaska, and how he loves that everything around him there is tougher than he is. The story I was most awed by, "460 Days," takes this theme to a much scarier place - a traveler being kidnapped and held captive in Somalia for over a year. Sure it’s a story to tell. But why would the author put herself there and take that risk in the first place?
Without a doubt, many of the authors’ lives were changed by their travel experiences, but in the 10 essays I read, none of them described cheerful travels. I’ve never heard of easy or fun pilgrimages. Maybe negative experiences simply have more of an impact on our lives than positive experiences.
My favorite essay of those we read from The Best American Travel Writing is called “Excuse Us While We Kiss the Sky,” by Matthew Power (144-157). I understand the author and the subjects of his stories’ need to explore the unknown, but what drives Garret is more than that. What drives people to break the rules – to not only explore what is unknown to them, but what many people or governments consider to be dangerous or off-limits? This is a type of travel that came up at least several times in the essays. Many people are content to visit typical tourist traps – which are often still foreign enough to satisfy whatever needs brought them searching in the first place. Garret, however, purposefully “counters a consumer culture” (151). Unsatisfied with simply seeking the unknown, he breaks any boundaries that seek to corral his experience into a tamer, cheaper, watered-down, dime-a-dozen show.
ReplyDeletePart of the answer to the question – why off-limits? – is simple: it’s more exciting to not be a part of the normal crowd and many of the world’s most amazing sights are now caught behind physical – or legal – bars to keep people out. It’s not enough to see new things if everyone else has seen them before you; Garret is a part of urbex because he can’t stop exploring. Are his experiences more real than those found in a pre-packaged destination? For Garret, something isn’t worth visiting because enough people define it to be so – simple uniqueness is enough. After all, “(t)he world was full of hidden possibilities” (157).
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ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteWhat perhaps is the reason for travel and travel writing? To promote the land people travel to or one’s own separate adventure only they have experienced? And what of the traveler then?
ReplyDeleteIn the essay “Birthplace of the American Vacation” by Tony Perrottet, we see the beginning of travel writing and how it essentially ruined the mystique of the Adirondack Mountains. In many of the essays we see a sense of invasion from the visitor. Yes, the experience is good, but we’re also changing the way these places appear because of our interaction with it. Everyone is going to have a different adventure, but we also need to have a sense of how these places have changed from the first travel pamphlet about it. We see it Peter Selgin’s My New York: A Romance in Eight Parts, “It was no longer my father’s city, the one he’d invented for me, his son. It had become an unfamiliar hostile place,” (pg. 190). Traveling isn’t wrong, but we can’t become so enamored by a place that it slowly loses its luster because of how we built it up in our heads. We lose the important part of traveling when we overbuild something in our minds.
In “Excuse Us While We Kiss the Sky”, we see rather people going out of their way for the less glamorous and far more fulfilling adventure, to see the places they travel to through the eyes of participants. We also have the issue with how the writer themselves changed along with the places they went. How it changed them and inspired them to share their experiences, but we can’t expect to have a similar experience. No, rather we need to go on our own adventure to change, yet we also can’t go expecting a great change or for things to be like they were in the essays.
I go to France and find a new piece of myself, but I also recognize that these places are changed by us as well. I think that’s what is important in this situation, is how not only we are affected but the places we visit are effected as well.
(Sorry my post kept looking very strange! I'm surprisingly bad at this)
One idea that travel always makes me think of is escape. Travel is a time to get away from your everyday life and to take a break from your worries and stress. National and international travel definitely feels like this to me but so does traveling from point A to point B. Last summer I lived in the valley and worked downtown and the drive or bus ride was always a little escape from work or any worries that I currently had. I got this feeling in “This is the Place” as well. The author discussed that when on vacation his parents were different people. They paid more attention to their kids and were more fun and light. I think these feelings of ease are an important part of traveling. You are detached enough from your daily worries that you are able to enjoy yourself more than you can in your daily lives. When I travel time goes slower and I notice that I do worry about the next thing I have to do or what other people need from me. Instead I live much more in the moment. To me this is why it made sense to me that the author in “This is the Place” never met his deadlines for his book. When he is in Guzman hearing stories and enjoying life in the moment it must have been difficult to think about his job and to think about what is going on back home and in his career. I’m always looking for my next chance to travel because it is the only break that feels worry free enough. Weekends are nice but they are part of the weekly routine and do not provide the same escape as travel.
ReplyDeleteIn making my way through the readings this week from Theroux's The Best American Travel Writing, I confess to being a little surprised by what I, at least, felt was the overall tone of the pieces. Maybe it's because of the discussion we had last Tuesday, but as I read, the following question formed in my brain: is there an inherent kind of fetishization and subliminal desire for superiority in travel writing?
ReplyDeleteThat's a little bit of a heavy-handed way of saying it, and I guess in a way the latter part answers itself. Again, sort of like we discussed last class, I would argue that there's definitely a desire for superiority when it comes to travel writing. Not necessarily all the time; certainly there are plenty of people who want to write to inform. But lots of people write about their travels in order to establish a sort of - I don't know really, the word I would use is maybe hierarchy? Like, "I've been here and you haven't, so let me tell you all about what I experienced so that you can live vicariously through me." I think Michael Paterniti said something similar in his essay "This Must Be the Place," about he and his family's trips to Guzmán, Spain. His statement was more general, though, like mine, and didn't specifically refer to himself and his family.
Anyway, the piece in which I most strongly felt the "subliminal desire for superiority," and also where the "fetishization" part comes in, was largely in Jeffrey Tayler's piece "In the Abode of the Gods." From the reading, I gathered that Tayler is some form of Buddhist, so it makes sense for him to have gone off on a Buddhist pilgrimage up a mountain. But during my time reading his essay, I couldn't shake the feeling - possibly unfounded! - that a large part of why he was writing it to begin with had to do with comparing these Tibetan mountain Buddhists to his own practiced form of Buddhism. Not necessarily in a bad way, though I'll admit I felt like he was almost sneering at them a little. Not outright sneering, but more like "it's fascinating how weird and different they are from me and my [[proper]] Buddhism, with their Pö Ba."
And that's also where I felt a little of the fetishization aspect come through - like the whole reason Tayler had gone on the pilgrimage was deliberately to experience this different form of Tibetan Buddhism, just so that he could write about it and compare it to his own style of religion and living. Again, though, I think that's an inherent aspect in anyone's writing about their own personal experiences, and it's not necessarily a bad thing - but my timer just went off, so I guess I'll stop there for now and if I'm completely off the mark, someone will let me know in class!
-L-
I unexpectedly enjoyed Best American Travel Writing. The yearning for wandering, for encountering new places, is very fundamental. Even the ones I liked the least, I still liked. David Sedaris’ piece, for example, seemed to have been included mostly because he’s a famous writer, while the other writers really needed to stand out. While it’s a common axiom that “we always return to ourselves”, I want to read travel writing not as a primary meditation on family or personal issues as Sedaris made it, but for a writer to take some time to extend for a bit, to go out on a limb, before returning to oneself. Similarly, Michael Paterniti’s “This Must Be the Place” was a mixed bag of delightful descriptions of “the Old World” and the characters that populated it, but it fell flat once he ruminated on his comparatively shallow modern life. It felt whiny. Finally, the most thin piece was A.A. Gill’s “America the Marvelous”. As a defense of America, it argues for one stereotype in attempting to topple another, and critical thinking is nowhere to be found.
ReplyDeleteHowever, there was great delight in all the writings, filled with discovery and the joy of the new and the present. Matthew Power’s “Excuse Us While We Kiss the Sky” perhaps best captured the appeal for an adventure, that it is a rebellion from structured, ordinary life, and it is thrilling to know you’ve been somewhere that few (in this case, extremely few) have gone before. I also loved Tony Perrottet’s “Birthplace of the American Vacation”. Though there are unsetting questions about America in its Frontier days, questions about nature and commerce, colonialism and oppression, questions that are still relevant today, there is charm in those times nonetheless. The charm, the cultural milieu, should certainly be remembered, as the essay does, as the revitalization efforts of the Adirondacks are doing, too. Finally, my favorite piece was the forward by Jason Wilson. It captured that youthful longing for exploration, for culture and its refined tastes, and the nostalgia that longing and exploration fosters later in life.
>>>> “…read the recent collection The Best American Travel Writing 2014 with an eye toward determining the key features of the contemporary genre--or at least what Paul Theroux and the editors at Mariner Books think defines the genre.”
ReplyDeleteIn his introduction, Theroux summarizes the selection of stories as, “The pieces this year ably illustrate the defiance of the traveler who, against the odds, sets off to find something new to write about (p. xxii).” There are many tropes and sub-categories within travel writing, as Wilson encapsulates in the foreword - love, memory, fear, and suffering are “key characteristics of great travel writing [that] never really change (xvi).”
These characteristics often show up beside one another in the same story. This juxtaposition, the light and the dark at any given time, helps to create an impactful foundation for which may provide the writer the ability to come to a thoughtful summation and conclusion. There are existential qualities in stories like, “This Must be the Place” when Paterniti states, “We mostly had ourselves without distraction (p. 111).”
How can we, as 21st century citizens in the twilight of our youth embody the importance of this grounding in our everyday lives? One lesson for us, whether at home or while traveling, may be to refrain from putting weight on other people’s opinions. It shouldn’t matter so much that we have a good story to tell, or a rad photo to post on social media. What should matter is that we capitalize on the here and now, making sure that finding our truth (for ourselves) remain a key element of any experience. I am of the mindset that if we experience things with that intention then we will have the ability to convey the truth in our words if we wish to share.
In The Best American Travel Writing 2014, there are stories that transport us to distant continents and tales that hit closer to home. When I was reading “In the Abode of the Gods,” I kind of sat back and allowed myself to be shown around the Tibetan mountains by the writer. For me it was a pretty passive experience of a distant place. But my reaction to Steven Rinella’s “Dream Acres” was much different.
ReplyDeleteAs soon as I read the words “Southeast Alaska” my interest piqued. This writer wasn’t taking me into unfamiliar territory but rather was stepping into a place that I recognized. I think this made it a lot easier to connect with the writing. But with so many of the other stories taking me to far away places and new experiences, I wondered: does my familiarity with a place subtract from this travel experience? I don’t think so. The stories I bring back from my time living in Hawaii do not devalue the stories that others bring back with them from their vacation. If anything I think that if a writer is able to strike a familiar cord with their readers—whether through a setting, food, music, feeling, dream, etc.—that it strengthens the personal connection between reader and writer that is fundamental in creative non-fiction. Without building this relationship and making these connections with the reader, I think it’s hard for the writer to communicate why we should care at all.
In the last class period, we discussed our different travel experiences—both national and international—and the stories in this book tend to do the same. This brings to mind a question that we touched on in class discussion: do we need to leave home for it to be considered travel? Does driving from Auke Bay to Downtown Juneau not count as travel? Would a local’s account of kayaking around Douglas Island not qualify as travel writing? I’m curious to see what the class thinks.
"My New York"
ReplyDeleteI was born and raised in New York City in the borough of the Bronx. I immediately was intrigued to read the "My New York" essay by Peter Seglin.
I couldn't help but think of another reading from the Architecture of Happines by Alain De Botton while reading this essay, De Botton says,
"Belief in the significance of architecture is premised on the notion that we are, for better or for worse, different people in different places- and on the conviction that it is architecture’s task to render vivid to us who we might ideally be” (13).
Does the location of a person affect their personality or emotional being? Seglin goes on a journey through New York during the 1960-1980's era. He does an impeccable job of describing the city around him. He places images, smells, and feelings into the text allowing the reader to really become a part of it, almost as if you were there with him. Although I wasn't around during this time period my parents and grandparents told me of how different New York City and it's inhabitants were. "The people were so different. No one seemed to worry as much", my grandmother told me. I remember her telling me how people smoked in their offices at work and how it was only $.05 cents to get a hot dog on the Coney Island boardwalk. (I think it's close to $8 now). Seglin took me to New York City, as I read I could feel the rush, the hustle and bustle, I could smell the cigarette smoke.
I was an angry person living in New York, and when I moved to Alaska people would comment on the pace in which I walked. New Yorker's have this stigma attached to them that they walk fast. I find myself now that I live in Juneau, I am more of a slower paced person. I feel that the serenity and beauty of Juneau and it's people have changed me. So this goes along with the idea that I found in this reading that, the location of a person can change them.
Seglin and his friend Chris Rowland prove this when they
"carried our suitcases and walked fast, as if our arrival were not already accomplished- as if by walking any slower we'd dispel the magic of this dream, like those in which you will yourself to fly" (181).
Does anyone find themselves becoming a part of their surroundings when they are in an unfamiliar place? I am curious to see if any of the other readings (one's I didn't choose as part of my 10) have this sort of same idea. Does anyone notice this idea come up in any of their readings? I am very curious to see.
Why is an “authentic” travel experience so important?
ReplyDeleteIn class last week we touched a lot on what makes a travel experience “authentic”. The intro to this week’s book touched on this subject as well, how you are supposed to have some sort of difficulty while traveling, experience some sort of life changing moment or epiphany of sorts that makes your travel experience “authentic”, worthwhile, and worth being told. I kind of have a hard time really coming to grips with this idea of authentic travel and why it’s so important to us, why it’s so ingrained in us that no one was surprised or confused when we talked about it, everyone knows what makes something an authentic travel experience. But why are we, as travelers and readers of travel literature, so obsessed with having an authentic travel experience? Is it just because media, and literature, and our friends, tell us it’s what needs to happen? I think that’s at least partly the answer, but maybe not all of it. I think, at least for me, part of the reason having an “authentic” travel is so alluring is that by having this connection with your travel, you’re making it seem more worthwhile to yourself, that you feel like you get something more meaningful out of this experience that you put so much time and money in to. But is there something wrong with not having a deep or life changing connection with a travel experience? Am I a bad or a boring person for being interested in going on a cruise around the Caribbean instead of immersing myself in local culture? I don’t think so, but at the same time this feeling that that a cruise is “not really traveling” is what’s kept me from trying it in the past.
In reading the essays selected by the group as well as the forward and introduction to Theroux's book, I would argue that the various authors concepts of travel and travel writing include and are shaped by ideas of leisure, spirituality, self-betterment, and "love and memory". In a first world such as ours with a proportionately large middle class, I would argue that these sensibilities and concepts are overarchingly common and can be used as a sum of a general understanding of travel. I think it's pretty obvious that such a conception of travel is very privileged and off limits to certain demographics, but I still find it surprising and a bit shallow that this is the general understanding of travel, especially in a book by well known travel writers. Travel is generally, I think at least, simply moving from place to place with a purposeful intent. Historically we can look at similar types of travel to the kinds I first outlined (leisure, spiritual, etc.), but It seems like a better way of thinking of travel would be to look at it and its reasons in relation to outside forces. When I first started reading the essays for this week, I began to think of the book "Changes in the Land" by William Cronon which I read earlier this summer. Cronon focuses on the colonial presence of both indians and settlers in New England and outlines the political, environmental, and economic purposes of colonial and indigenous travel; for example the way in which land was effected by the mobile habitation of native Americans, and the global economic relations that were shaped by New England ecology. What I mean when I say I think we should look at travel in relation to other outside forces, I mean, how in our modern society does the process of travel affect and let itself be affected by political, global, economic, and environmental forces. In "In the Abode of the Gods," the author writes that "I've come to believe that these doctrines with their stress on universal tolerance and renunciation, might offer us a way out of our current planet-wide crisis of diminishing resources, relentless consumerism, and terrorist violence" (258). To put it bluntly, this writing (just this essay in particular) seems like feel good privileged spiritualism. I'm not knocking Buddhism in any way, but rather this writers brief foray with buddhism and that he would argue that our political, economic, and environmental problems could be solved by what he felt on a fifteen day pilgrimage that is catered most likely to an upper class demographic. What would be more radical to me was if the writer connected the political, global, economic, and environmental forces that made it possible for him to go on his pilgrimage. I think it makes more sense to consider travel, as I argued earlier, as the process of mobile habitation. The cosmopolitan side of travel then comes about not through a sense of self betterment and spirituality, but in the demystification of global forces that connect the individual to economy, ecology, and politics.
ReplyDeleteJason Wilson notes in the Forward of this anthology, "We've been told that travel without suffering makes for a lousy story." My question to pose: is travel writing really all that drab without a sufficient amount of suffering?
ReplyDeleteI will admit that in stories such as "This Must Be the Place" the amount of suffering that the writer faces makes for an interesting story. I found myself turning pages faster and faster with each interesting twist. Was I going to hear about a murder? Was Michael ever going to try that cheese? Was he going to move to Guzman to be closer to "the Place?" All of these things kept me interested. Whereas in a piece like "The Birthplace of the American Vacation" that read, to me, like a eulogy. Each piece has its upsides and its downfalls. Does it mean that a good travel piece includes some sort of suffrage? Maybe, maybe not. With each of these pieces came something interesting, something to keep the reader hooked. With "Clear-Eyed in Calcutta," the writer had me hooked from the imagery he wrote in the first paragraph. The story itself didn't have any overt suffrage throughout the piece, except maybe for the goats.
I believe that the most necessary portion for a good travel piece is to include an authentic experience, whether that includes suffrage or not. Each writer needs to be able to write about an experience that is entirely his or her own. One of the most refreshing things about "A Moving Experience" is that the interaction with travel is entirely the writers. The genuine interaction with travel is something that could potentially be shared with readers, but is entirely experienced by the writer.
-Joe
How do writers approach travel differently from others? Are there specific things that travel writers do that may depart from the typical tourist or vacationer approach?
ReplyDeleteEveryone who goes on some sort of travel adventure generally hopes to bring back stories. There might even be a fear of failing to find those interesting experiences, and having nothing to say upon returning home to inquisitive friends and family. But when a writer sets out to explore beyond their front door, there must be a much more heightened sense of story in their mind. They are actively searching for that story. It seems that a writer would be much more open to finding intriguing details in less conspicuous places. The author of "Fifty Shades of Greyhound" was on a journey to see a mountain, but he found infinite opportunities for story-telling before ever reaching his destination. He was also able to listen and remember little personal conversations because he knew they would contribute to his narrative. A writer might, rather than simply chasing stories of his own, seek out individuals with stories to tell.
I suspect that at the same time, writers may be more hesitant to lose themselves in an experience. Their minds constantly pick up on tidbits and interesting elements that would add to a story's character. Genuineness and authenticity in story-telling might be sacrificed if they were to leave anything out.
As I read through the various essays in “The Best American Travel Writing” I was really focusing on the question of what makes travel worthwhile. Through my reading and my own opinion I believe that what makes travel worthwhile is a life changing experience. The Essay that really stuck out to me was “Life During Wartime” by Janine Di Giovanni. Giovanni’s stay in Sarajevo had a major impact on both her career and her life. Even though her initial stay was uncomfortable and scary she still viewed Sarajevo in a positive light. She was excited to return there many years later and reunite with the other reporters that she lived with. I think that even though Giovanni’s travel experience was a difficult one it is a version of what most people hope for when they travel. Most people want to travel to a new place that they have never been before and stay for long enough to make lasting friendships and feel that they truly know the place and its residents. Like we briefly discussed last class I think that “Life During Wartime” shows that you need to stay in a place for a significant amount of time before you can feel very connected to it or feel that it changed you. If Giovanni had only stayed in Sarajevo for a few days like she thought she might do when she first arrived, I don’t think she would have had as meaningful of an experience as she did staying there for almost three years. I also do not believe she would have been so animate about returning back years later, she may have not wanted to return to Sarajevo at all.
ReplyDeleteEllen Hopfensperger
Every day we tell each other stories and share little experiences that we have been having. Travel writing takes an experience and shares it with a much broader audience then just your friends and family. What is the purpose?
ReplyDeleteTo share a story is an experience in itself and to share a story through writing can be very powerful for an individual, but where does the reader find their interest. Do people read travel writing to get inspired for their next adventure or for other reasons? There are so many ways to think about travel writing that it is hard to ask questions about it. It seams it can be what ever you want it to be. A cathartic way to recap your own adventure or a lesson on a culture you have never seen. I am not sure that defining the genre is helpful because of the vast range of ways to gain from travel writing. Travel writing is like a global blog where people can tell of their experiences. I would say that the best definition I could give to travel writing would be a means to share and gain knowledge about the unfamiliar. Through this communication about traveling, the way in which people travel and the way people experience life changes. Stories inspire people to have their own adventures and soon enough you have a whole traveling community that can talk about all kinds of exciting times.
Gosh I hope this is the place for the 12 minute blogs.
ReplyDeleteRight, Hi Rosie!
So the main question after reading my pick of
"This must be the Place" along with the two other readings I have one question that really burns. Let's explore if we can the difference between both tourist and traveler as well as local vs. new resident.
These are the questions that the reading has made me think about. For instance when I worked in the bush, I was there for 6 months on 6 off for two years and yet i was never considered to be local. I guess it has to do with the community you find yourslef in. It seems that the "hipster" movement has more to do with telling people what they can or can't do than trying to be inclusive. It is this idea that really seperates the tourist from the traveler, the local from the resident. If people didn't care if you were one or the other, why would you? The Hipster movement seems very interested in discovering whether or not one is "original." If you didn't have anyone to answer to why would it matter?
Reading through the selections for this week, I felt a bit of repulsion. For at least some of these writers, it felt like the "why" of travel writing could be answered with, "It's my job." Even reading through some of the harrowing stories, such as Taylor's "The Abode of the Gods," the writing feels flat. Descriptive, but not immersive. A strict, chronological, rote debriefing. Is this what travel writing is? Again, in Patterniti's "This Must Be the Place" it felt like something was missing. The author clearly strives to find a sense of place, but the writing is flat. As close as it comes to revealing something, for lack of a better word, authentic, the writing feels like a report. Maybe I’m not reading deep enough, but it feels like it may be the fault of having a dedicated genre. Dedicated writers. I’m not sure. It’s a rule across genres that a story needs to have a conflict, some kind of obstacle to overcome. That’s not specific to travel writing. But an immersive story needs more. Character development and growth. A narrative arc, a good setting, good dialogue. Creative writing perhaps has the most immediately applicable requirement, to show, rather than tell. If these stories had to stand on their own without the travel writing label, could they? I would argue that, in most cases, they wouldn’t end up in any sort of “best of,” anthology. Maybe travel writing needs to be an incidental genre, “writing that involves travel,” or “writing in which travel features prominently.” If the purpose of these stories is to feature a place, then perhaps it would be better covered by environmental literature, where the setting becomes a character in and of itself. As it is, there’s several stories I could think of that kick the pants out of this “best of” nonsense. “Into Thin Air,” by Krakauer. Lansing’s “Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Adventure.” Even works of fiction have left me feeling more immersed in a place or willing to visit. I’m sure a feeling of authenticity is important to a good travel story. But that should extend beyond telling the facts.
ReplyDeleteAfter reading several of the stories in this book the message that stands out is, What is travel and where does work, vacation and writing have to do with it. Travel could be as simple as getting on a plane and going to point a to b. For me I have the pleasure of talking to travelers every day with my job. It only take a question or nudge to get a complete story of why they are traveling a to b. some people are going to the doctor, some shopping. There are folks who travel halfway around the world in search of love. It never gets boring just asking where you from where you going. Travel is many things to many people, for me it about adventure and exploration of the unknown.
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