An excerpt:We splashed over a gulley, and found the only path out of the village. Ahead of us hung a wooden bridge whose struts stood thin as sticks in the river. My heart sank. It was the only way west. I thought we might edge on to it and test its strength. Then suddenly Oman shouted 'We'll see!' and set the car at it headlong.For a second it crackled like dry biscuits under us. Then we were over and charging up a precipitous bank.I yelled: 'Weren't you afraid?'"Of course I was!' he yelled back."The Lost Heart of Asia" is one of a trilogy Colin Thubron wrote in the wake of the collapse of the Soviet Union, exploring parts of what had made up that great communist power. In this case, he explored Central Asia: Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kirghizstan and maybe a stan that I've overlooked. This is travel writing at its most basic: There are no five-star hotels, no Michelin restaurants, no Western tourists and no places Western tourists would go. There are no Westerners other than Thubron, who's from England. There's a great deal of adventure.During the early chapters of the book, Thubron seemed invariably to ask someone to take him to see something. Invariably, that person would insist instead on getting all his friends together for an impromptu party. This would consist of indigestible food -- Thubron lost a tooth at one of the parties -- and large quantities of vodka. Throughout this part of the book, Thubron seemed to be either becoming drunk on vodka, already drunk on vodka, or hungover from being drink on vodka. It's a wonder he was able to record anything that happened. Curiously, though, these are probably the most engrossing chapters of the book.Thubron is, I think, an amazing writer. Open the book to any page, plunk your finger down on any sentence, and it will be a really good sentence. I like this sentence, for instance, from Page 22:The historian's face cracked into a smile, which survived there senselessly a long time later, as if he had forgotten it.I will say that at times during the latter chapters of the book I felt like a child in the back seat of the car, bored with the scenery, wondering when we're going to get there. And when I did get there, I wanted to go back, and I told all my friends about what a wonderful trip it was (which is what I'm doing now).Pictures and more detailed maps would have been nice.Oh, and one more thing: If you're ever in Uzbekistan and find yourself in need of transportation, DON'T hire Oman to be your driver.
Thubron travelled through Central Asia in the aftermath of the fall of the Soviet empire. Enabled by his knowledge of Russian, he managed to do it largely without intermediaries, so this trip is far beyond what one would expect of a grand tour of this huge region. Yes, there are visits to the touchstones, the abandoned ruins of almost-forgotten empires, the unimaginable savagery of the Mongols, the still-worshipped tombs of Sufi saints. Yes, there is the obligatory tale of the vermin-infested underground prison used by the sybaritic emirs of Bukhara and the two British officers who spent years in it before their execution. Thubron recounts how Central Asia had played host to a strain of Islam that was inquisitive and intellectual (it produced one of the Middle Age's great thinkers, Avicenna) and how it was crushed. But what really sets Thubron apart is his affection for the people of these countries, and how they adapted to the wrenching decades of Russian domination, followed by the devastation of the Russian collapse. (This is still the nineties; the self-satisfied, oil and gas-rich Russia of Putin has not yet appeared, it is gripped by the chaos of Yeltsin). Thubron listens, not always the most notable talent of Westerners abroad, even if it's to the guide who swindles him, or the elderly widow who, having lost a father and a husband to the Soviet terror, still believes in Communism. He engages everyone, down to the shepherds who turn out to be some of the last speakers of Sogdian, spoken by Xerxes, Darius and Cyrus the Great, one of whom says of that language, without sadness, that it belongs in the past. Above all, in this collection of countries and cultures so poorly-understood in the West, Thubron has a talent for getting women to talk to him, whether it is the tough matron nostalgic for the Soviets, or the resourceful daughter-in-law who supports the family, or the Kazakh woman who dreams of being a conductor. And, in this inflation-ravaged region, there is always the dream of moving, to Thubron's England or New York. This isn't a book about dust and ruins or elites or about deluded, comic foreigners (I think Sascha Baron Cohen should be sentenced to memorizing it), it is about the people who live there, enduring and often failing but still struggling to create something new.
What do You think about The Lost Heart Of Asia (1995)?
Three weeks and only 141 pages in (through the end of Chapter 5) means I'm not enjoying this one, so it's back to the library for now. I haven't read travel writing before (aside from tourist guides like the Lonely Planet, when actually visiting a place, which is not at all the same thing although they are shelved together in the library), and perhaps given my impatience with travelogue fantasies it's unsurprising that I didn't much like this. Thubron spends a lot more time by himself, viewing landscapes or ruins, than I anticipated, and the cast of local characters that he meets turns over very quickly. He has a strange way of writing about people, all of whom come across as mysteriously tragic. He surmises personality from physiognomy and always seems surprised when the people he meets are unemotional about historical events that occurred long before their births. He also has a vague, atmospheric way of writing about history - he is clearly impressed with the long and brutal history of Central Asia, but names and dates and specifics tend to get lost, and all that stuck in my head were the descriptions of torture, which I could have done without.There are some interesting characters here, and Thubron did have some exposure to the culture and write about it in an interesting way, but it wasn't enough to keep me going through this rather slow-moving and dense narrative.
—Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship
I read The Lost Heart of Asia while I was living in the region, in the country of Kyrgyzstan. In this book Thubron travels throughout Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and – of course – Kyrgyzstan. This was by far the most informative book on Central Asia that I have read so far, in addition to being entertaining and well penned. I was a little disappointed by the fact that he spent by far the most time in Uzbekistan, and by the fact that he came to Kyrgyzstan at the very end of his journey, when his enthusiasm for extended travel was obviously winding down. However, I highly recommend this book to those interested in what life is like here Central Asia and/or the history thereof. Also, the fact that Thubron spent so much time in Uzbekistan meant that he penned pages upon tantalizing pages, which have left me itching to go there next.
—Jane
Thubron writes beautiful prose. Here's an example: "for two thousand years Central Asia was the womb of terror, where an implacable queue of barbarian races waited to impel one another into history. Whatever spurred their grim waves - the deepening erosion of their pasturelands or their seasons of fleeting unity - they bore the same stamp of phantom mobility and mercilessness". A companion volume to "Shadow of the Silk Road", it's somewhat dated now, and a rather depressing read. Thubron seems to have set off to find the descendants of Tamurlane resurrecting their heritage with their newly gained independance, but finds mostly dissatisfaction and fear wherever he goes. But a fascinating read nonetheless.
—Kate
