Dervla Murphy, Silverland

Each time I track a previously unread book by Dervla Murphy in my library, I dance for joy.  By now, I've learnt to expect a guaranteed literary feast, with both aesthetic and intellectual cravings satisfied.  Silverland is no exception.

(And I have another of Dervla's books waiting in line, so check back soon!)

A follow up to Through Siberia By Accident, Silverland is a chronicle of Dervla's second journey to Far Russia.  Taught by experience or maybe humbled by vast distances and nature's ferocity in Siberia, the Irish babushka switched from her preferred bike to slow-going railway.  I, for one, don't feel disappointed by this change;  whatever the means of locomotion, Dervla's gift for observation and compelling writing remains the same. 

Siberia is fascinating (of course), but by now I've decided that my favourite part of Dervla's writing - in any of her books - is social criticism.  Her political incorrectness is refreshing, all the more for its scarcity in today's world of mediocrity and playing it safe. 

So who gets it this time?  Most anger is directed against the usual culprits - power politics, cynical economic institutions, environmental destruction, consumerism and capitalism rampant.  There's a long tirade against funereal industry (what's wrong with that?  Well, read the book.  Dervla provides information, not only propaganda), and a wonderfully biting remark on kitschy Paddy's Day celebrations (that's something, coming from an Irishwoman). 

I am always impressed by her courage to speak up.  Inevitably, some people will be outraged to see their lifestyles condemned.  She doesn't seem to mind - what needs to be said gets said.  Good!  Under our cultural imperative to be 'nice', we often forget that ugly deeds need to be exposed and condemned, not ignored. 

In short, Silverland gets 10 out of 10 on my personal 'good books' scale and an enthusiastic recommendation. 

Roger Took, Running with Reindeer

Arriving at library fifteen minutes before closing time, one is destined to leave with a pretty random crop of books.  I grabbed Running with Reindeer - Encounters in Russian Lapland when sprinting by the history section, expecting some mixture of ethnography, anthropology and yes, history, served in a dry academic sauce.  I got top class travel writing instead.  What a pleasant surprise!

Running with Reindeer has everything that really good travel writing is supposed to have.  Exotic location.  A lot of ground covered.  High definition portraits of quirky characters encountered on the road.  Tons of background information on politics, history, ecology, geography and any other -athys and -ogies you can wish for.  A touch of adventure, a sprinkling of opinion.  Wonderful!

Russian Lapland is not exactly a land most people would be familiar with, nor is it the easiest one to travel.  As everywhere, traditions of the indigenous people in the area are disappearing fast.  Bureaucracy and living off the land nomadic style, do not exactly go together.  People who used to literally run with their reindeer can now be found in high rise concrete blocks.  Not all of them, not yet.  But I have the unpleasant feeling that a few decades from now Saami way of life could be truly a thing of the past, fully belonging to the history shelf.  We are not too good in conserving ecological diversity, especially if it cannot be milked for money.

I'm not trying to say that the 'good old nomadic ways' translate unconditionally to 'heaven full of pastoral beauty'.  It's quite likely that after a week of such a bucolic bliss I would run off screaming.  Yet, it's hard to read Took's account of wilderness being transformed by civilisation and not to feel some sadness.

One minor fault, springing mainly from my personal preferences, not objective judgement.  My mind tends to drift when assaulted with too much landscape.  Topography is fine when you have to actually travel through it, but to a reader's (mine!) mind, all those valleys and knolls and hills and lakes and other features are pretty meaningless.  If there are too many of them, my brain automatically gets into neutral gear.  You must have some landscape in a travel writing book, but in Running with Reindeer I detected too much of it for my liking.

On all other fronts, the book is fantastic.