Ghost Train to the Eastern Star: On the Tracks of the Great Railway Bazaar [Hardcover]

Ghost Train to the Eastern Star is one of Paul Theroux's finest travel books. It represents a redux, and technically, it's better than the book that inspired it, his own The Great Railway Bazaar, the travelogue that made him famous and set the standard for the genre. Ghost Train is certainly more mature, more polished, and more analytical (take his devastating commentary on Singapore, for example, or Pol Pot, or his interviews with various world writers). Yet, for some inexplicable reason, The Great Railway Bazaar remains superior, or at least "fresher" and certainly more fun.

Not that it really matters, because this is Paul Theroux we're talking about, the godfather of modern-day travel writing. In the genre, there's not a single writer who even comes close. Comparing Ghost Train to the Eastern Star, The Pillars of Hercules, The Happy Isles of Oceania, Kingdom by the Sea, The Old Patagonian Express, and The Great Railway Bazaar is sort of like comparing gemstones; they all shine, whereas Riding the Riding the Iron Rooster and Dark Star Safari are merely very good. Theroux is now in his seventies and one wonders if this isn't his travel-lit coda. I hope not, but the guy can't go on writing forever, something he hints at in this book. What a talent Paul Theroux is, and what a good time it can be to simulate foreign travel with one of his books from the comfort of home. People who say Theroux is misanthropic or judgmental are completely missing the point. He's a bit arrogant maybe, but a little arrogance is necessary if you're going to make a career from the pen, something very few can do these days.

Troy Parfitt is the author of Why China Will Never Rule the World

If you want a book about how to travel by train, skip this one.

If you want a book about what you'll discover about yourself if you revisit old haunts, you may find this book intriguing enough to propel you back to your former hangouts and to review your memories . . . both painful and pleasant.

If you enjoy literary pilgrimages, you'll enjoy several entertaining moments.

If you want keen insights into nations you haven't visited, you won't find enough to warrant reading the book.

If you want a book of great writing, you will probably be disappointed. Mr. Theroux will wow you now and then with brilliant passages . . . particularly in the beginning and end . . . but mostly it's plain vanilla writing.

Why then did I like the book a lot? Mr. Theroux reminded me of a fresh way to look at the world, a way that I used to employ quite often.

Let me explain. When I was growing up, my father worked for the Santa Fe Railway and our family had a pass for free travel from California to Illinois. Most of our long trips were by train. In college, I also traveled across the United States several times to save a few pennies. During those trips, I grew to appreciate places that you never see from an airplane or an interstate highway. Railway travel allowed me to meet many memorable people and to have experiences I otherwise wouldn't have had.

Writers live solitary lives, often more so when they are in a crowd. Railway travel is a buffer between the writer and the world that allows the writer to venture out amongst everyone in a comfortable way. I realized that leaving the writer's cocoon more often is good for the writer and the writer's readers.

Mr. Theroux is generous in sharing his observations during his much earlier trip along a similar route, as well as his feelings as his marriage fell apart. Those perspectives make the observations much more powerful and interesting. He is most comfortable talking about places and times in terms of other authors and conversing with authors. I found those interludes to be particularly intriguing.

Although I didn't learn enough to make me want to organize a particular kind of trip to any of these places, I did gain a sense of how a writer might react to each of the locales. From those observations, I think I know which of these places I would like to visit and which ones not. That aspect was a pleasant surprise.

I was fascinated by the differences in national character demonstrated among the ordinary people he met, most moving in his description of the forgiveness of the Vietnamese people towards ordinary Americans. As he traveled around, people in one country would be happy and enjoying life, while in the next country misery existed regardless of material comforts. As a result, I read the book very slowly. I needed time to digest what he said about each country before I could go on to the next one. To me, that's a sign of good writing: He made me think a lot.

Like many travelers, Mr. Theroux likes to report on some things more than others. I wasn't quite sure why he gives such an encyclopedic description about the sex trade in each nation, but perhaps as a man traveling alone that stood out more than the helpfulness of ordinary people. I could have done with less of that element. I also didn't enjoy his angry dismissal of anyone who is a missionary. What is that all about?

I was especially intrigued to realize that you can get to know people better during a train trip than during other casual contacts in travel. I plan to take advantage of that during my future trips.

All aboard for more understanding!

I re-read the "Great Railway Bazaar" before reading this book and was glad I did, because Theroux over the years has become a much better writer. It was interesting to hear him tell what was really going on in his life when he wrote the first book.

He is a fantastic observationist, and genuinely enjoys listening to other people's lives and stories. Many travel writers will ask questions, yet they always seem a bit distracted as if they are only half listening, but Paul Theroux actually listens. I like the way he phonetically writes the English that people use when it is not their first language, it cements the moment with the accents of people in the world. Mostly Theroux's books say: "There's another world out there, that is chilling and heartbreaking all at the same time if you bother to notice and listen."

Before I read this I also had a ramble through one of his other books "The Pillars of Hercules," that I bought in a used book shop a couple of years ago. That too has a shine of reality and literature to it. I am getting the urge to re-read the travel books of his that I know, and explore the books of his I that I missed reading over the years.

It's hard to speak of Theroux's books because they are indescribable in the many details that sift through the reader's mind afterward. He makes it seem like you have taken the journey yourself, with all the insight, personal reflection, shock, and revelation of other people's lives and poignancy. He reads books along the way, instantly making me want to read those same books and learn, and he describes the smells, the crowds, the noise, the quiet moments, the beauty of the unexpected, and all those singular people living their lives, far removed from insular North America.

Most fascinating to me were: Turkmenistan; the information technology outsourcing that has transformed India; what happened to Cambodia and Vietnam after the war with America; Japan and the manga craze; and that cold, reverberating visit to Perm 36 of Russian gulag fame.

Instead of becoming hopelessly drunk and obnoxious in "Banging Benidorm," his influence and experience points to a different way for travellers to see the world.

Thirty years later, he can still shake your mind up and leave you feeling lost and sad and hopeful with the good-heartedness of small moments with strangers in distant, distant places.