Discussion Questions
(The following Discussion Questions were developed by Conrad Beatty, a member of MeRG, a book group in Douglasville, Georgia. Many thanks, Conrad.)
1. In his introduction to the book, Patrick Leigh Fermor (an accomplished travel writer himself) comments that it is hard to determine exactly what makes Nicolas Bouvier’s books and journeys different from other travel writers. Assuming you have read other travel writers, it what way do you think they are different?
2. One of the most well-known quotes from this book occurs close to the beginning. "Traveling outgrows its motives. It soon proves sufficient in itself. You think you are making a trip, but soon it is making you—or unmaking you." What has motivated you to travel and, if you have done so, how has that changed you?
3. "The virtue of travelling is that it purges life before filling it up." What idea was Bouvier trying to convey with that statement?
4. Bouvier talks of how traveling changes the traveler:
Ideas one had held on to without reason depart; others, however, are readjusted and settle like pebbles at the bottom of a stream. There’s no need to interfere: the road does the work for you.
How far or how long does one need to travel in order to experience these subtle changes taking place?
5. Speaking of a priest in Macedonia, Bouvier writes: "He represented the sacred, and the sacred—just like liberty—is not a preoccupation until one feels it is under threat." Coming from a free Western European country, what impact do you imagine life under a communist regime had on him?
6. "Beyond a certain degree of hardship or misery, life often revives and heals the scars." Is this more than merely becoming acclimated to the conditions? If so, in what ways?
7. In speaking of sickness (which seemed to go hand in hand with travel) Bouvier writes:
There were warnings , but no iron rules: it was just a case of listening to the body’s music, unnoticed for so long, which gradually returned and with which one needs to be in harmony.
Are we, in our sedentary lifestyles, out of touch with our body’s music? If so, what can we do to restore that harmony?
8. Travelling, according to Bouvier,
provides occasions for shaking oneself up but not, as people believe, freedom. Indeed it involves a kind of reduction: deprived of one’s usual setting, the customary routine stripped away like so much wrapping paper, the traveller finds himself reduced to more modest proportions—but also more open to curiosity, to intuition, to love at first sight.
How, do you think, travel differs today from that experienced by the author? What would it take to experience the kind of travel of which he writes?
9. In writing about fear, Bouvier says:
There are such moments in travelling when it arises, and the bread you are chewing sticks in your throat. When you are over-tired, or alone for too long, or are let down for a moment after a burst of enthusiasm, it can take you unawares as you turn a corner, like a cold shower…The next day you will romantically berate yourself—quite wrongly. At least half of this uneasiness—you understand later—is instinct aroused by serious danger.
Have you experienced such moments of fear while travelling? If so, how did you handle the situation and what actions did you take to minimize the threat?
10. In rural Turkey, Bouvier experiences a clash of cultures. He writes:
They lack technology: we want to get out of the impasse into which too much technology has led us, our sensibilities saturated to the nth degree with Information and a Culture of distractions. We’re counting on their formulae to revive us; they’re counting on ours to live. Our paths cross without mutual understanding, and sometimes the traveler gets impatient, but there is a great deal of self-centeredness in such impatience.
When you travel are you seeking an escape from technology or do you find that it provides a comforting link to all that is familiar to you?
11. Bouvier writes:
In the end, the bedrock of existence is not made up of the family, or work, or what others say or think of you, but of moments … when you are exalted by a transcendent power that is more serene than love. Life dispenses them parsimoniously; our feeble hearts could not stand more.
Can you recall any such moments as he describes? Perhaps a sunrise or sunset over an ocean or a view from a mountain top? How did you feel in those moments?
12. In Azerbaijan, Bouvier converses with a French priest who speaks of the re-emergence of fanaticism with its black banners and violent ways. "Fanaticism, you see, is the last revolt of the poor, the only one they can’t be denied." How do you think that reflects on the re-emergence of fanaticism today?
13. In Tabriz, Bouvier makes the acquaintance of some Americans who are attempting to build a school because in the American mindset a school is one of the main ingredients in the American recipe for happiness, but as he points out such a recipe for happiness cannot be exported with adjustments. He alludes to the fact that there are worse things than countries without schools. For example, countries without hope or justice. How has American foreign policy failed to understand those subtleties? Can you think of examples where our approach to helping other nations has failed because of this?
14. In Tehran they met with friends who came to see them off on the next leg of their journey. Bouviere says:
What took their fancy was the concept of the Voyage: the surprises, the trials, the mystique of the road. The voyage was perennially fascinating to the East, and this often worked to our advantage.
How does the romance of travel capture your imagination? To what limits would you be prepared to push yourself?
15. At one point in Isfahan he writes:
It’s odd how the world suddenly goes bad, turns rotten…I believe there are landscapes that are out to get you, and you must leave them immediately or the consequences are incalculable. There are not many of them, but they certainly exist; five or six on this earth for each of us.
Does that seem like paranoia or the voice of experience? Have you ever encountered a place where you had such feelings?
16. Late in his journey, in Afghanistan, Bouvier writes, "There isn’t a single country—as I now know—which doesn’t exact its pound of flesh." In what way do you think he meant that? Was he referring simply to the hardships of travel or of something more?
17. Standing in the Khyber Pass, Bouvier muses:
That day I really believed that I had grasped something and that henceforth my life would be changed. But insights cannot be held forever. Like water, the world ripples across you and for a while you take on its colors. Then it recedes, and leaves you face to face with the void you carry inside yourself, confronting that central inadequacy of soul, which you must learn to rub shoulders with and to combat, and which paradoxically, may be our surest impetus.
As this is Bouvier's closing thought, what do you think he learned or gained from this journey?
18. In conclusion, how would you summarize this book? In what way is it a journey of discovery versus a journey of self-discovery?
(Questions courtesy of Conrad Beatty.)