Blue Latitudes by Tony Horwitz

The warriors taunted and threatened the English, but only rarely did they follow the haka with a sustained attack. Before long, the crewmen responded in kind. When a warrior waved his naked backside at the English, which William Monkhouse termed "the usual sign of contempt" among fishmongers in London, the surgeon decided to "retort the compliment" by baring his ass as well. This so enraged a warrior that he hurled a lance. The English replied with small shot, frightening the Maori--but only for a moment. "They felt the sting of our laughing at them," Monkhouse wrote, and resumed shouting and waving spears and paddles. Thus ended a fairly typical encounter, which reads today rather like a skirmish between soccer hooligans in Europe. 

-Blue Latitudes 

Blue Latitudes had been on my maybe-read list for a while. I knew Tony Horwitz was a gifted writer, since I'd thoroughly enjoyed two of his other books, Confederates in the Attic and A Voyage Long and Strange. Even so, I wasn't hooked by the premise of Blue Latitudes initially. I'd never had any particular interest in Captain Cook, so I had trouble mustering up a lot of enthusiasm for the idea of Horwitz retracing his voyages around the world.

Then, of course, I read Age of Wonder and became familiar with Joseph Banks, the scientist (and ladykiller) who accompanied Cook on his first voyage. Banks was quite a character, and he sparked my interest to the extent that I found myself considering Blue Latitudes with new enthusiasm. I'm glad I did.

In Blue Latitudes, Horwitz travels around the world just as Cook did, although he does have the advantages of airplanes and GPS, not to mention Dramamine when he does take to a boat. He journeys to everywhere from Alaska to New Zealand, and not a few places in between, ending his trip as Cook did in Hawaii, although his own journey comes to a close on a decidedly less bloody note.  Everywhere he goes, Horwitz investigates how Cook is remembered. Today Cook has become a complicated figure. Depending on whom you talk to, you might hear Cook described as an intrepid adventurer or a harbinger of doom. As someone who didn't know much about Cook, I found it interesting to see the many sides of the man. I also appreciated Horwitz's forays into other aspects of history I was wholly unfamiliar with. To wit:

The Aleutian Islands became American territory following William Seward's famous purchase of Alaska in 1867, and for seventy-five years the remote Aleuts survived in a state of benign neglect. Then came World War II, when the Japanese bombed Dutch Harbor and seized several islands farther out along the Aleutian chain, the first occupation of American soil by a foreign army since the War of 1812. The inhabitants of the occupied islands were taken to camps in Japan, where only twenty-five survived. The United States evacuated the rest of the Aleuts, ostensibly for their own protection, interning them at wretched camps in southeastern Alaska, where many of them also died. Because of wartime censorship, the Aleuts' plight remained unknown to the American public. Not until 1988 did the U.S. government formally apologize to the Aleuts and pay compensation of $12,000 to each of the camps' few hundred survivors.

I certainly don't remember that ever coming up in any of my history classes. It's amazing how much is still left unsaid when it comes to recent history.

Horwitz is a smart, compelling writer, and I certainly feel better informed for having read this book. That said, I still prefer the other books of his I've read. I'm also quite excited for his next book, which is about the abolitionist John Brown and his famous raid on Harper's Ferry.

Up next: Back to Inspector Lynley with Payment in Blood.

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

Generally speaking, though, Americans have an inability to relax into sheer pleasure. Ours is an entertainment-seeking nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one. Americans spend billions to keep themselves amused with everything from porn to theme parks to wars, but that's not exactly the same thing as quiet enjoyment. Americans work harder and longer and more stressful hours than anyone in the world today. But as Luca Spaghetti pointed out, we seem to like it. Alarming statistics back this observation up, showing that many Americans feel more happy and fulfilled in their offices than they do in their own homes. Of course, we all inevitably work too hard, then we get burned out and have to spend the whole weekend in our pajamas, eating cereal straight out of the box and staring at the TV in a mild coma (which is the opposite of working, yes, but not exactly the same thing as pleasure). Americans don't really know how to do nothing. This is the cause of that great sad American stereotype-the overstressed executive who goes on vacation, but who cannot relax.

I once asked Luca Spaghetti if Italians on vacation have that same problem. He laughed so hard he almost drove his motorbike into a fountain.

-Eat, Pray, Love

It took me a long time to get to Eat, Pray, Love, and I picked it up with some misgivings. I was concerned that it seemed a bit New Agey, perhaps a little treacly, like some other bestsellers that I've found underwhelming in the past few years. I saw the movie a couple of weeks ago, however, and found it pretty enjoyable, so I thought I'd give the book a fair shot.

I think most people are familiar with the premise of the book by this point: an American woman travels around the world in order to learn how to live a balanced life. It's a lot more entertaining than that little summary suggests, though (which I guess explains why it's been so popular, yeah?). Writer Elizabeth Gilbert starts her story at home in New York, where her marriage is falling apart and she's coping—well, not at all, really. She quickly finds herself in another relationship, but that, too, turns sour before long. She falls into a depression, finding comfort only in reading words from an Italian dictionary.

The comfort of these words becomes part of her inspiration to travel around the world. She begins in Italy, to discover the art of pleasure. This was my favorite part of the book, simply because I cannot get enough of all things Italian. (I really want to read this, by the way.) There are a lot of descriptions of amazing food, as well as many tales of how Italians live. After Italy, Liz moves onto India to learn how to live a spiritual life. There are some entertaining anecdotes in this section (I love anything with Richard from Texas) as well as some thought-provoking ideas. Sometimes she lost me entirely, particularly in describing her most successful meditation sessions—but she herself acknowledges how difficult it is to relay such an experience and how she had trouble reading accounts until she'd experienced it herself. It was interesting, regardless.

Liz finishes her journey in Bali, where she tries to achieve balance between a life of pleasure and one of devotion. She listens to a wise (and often entertaining) medicine man named Ketut and makes local friends. (As she does everywhere she goes, by the way. Quite a talent.) One of these is a divorced Brazilian man named Felipe; despite her best intentions, the book ends with Liz once again in a relationship. It's not a bad ending—it also marked the beginning for her more recent book Committed—but for whatever reason I found the Balinese section of the book to be the least engrossing of the three.

Overall, though, I really liked the book. Liz has a great voice and the ability to make you feel like you're a pal along for the trip. I even laughed out loud a few times, which is always lovely (unless you're in public, so fair warning, I suppose). Although Committed received somewhat lukewarm reviews, I think I'd be interested in reading it as well simply because I enjoyed her writing style that much.

Up next: Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain. Love me some Tony! Speaking of Italy, I recently saw his No Reservations episode from Rome and it was awesome. Made cacio e pepe with la mia mamma the next night!