The author of Journey to Kars recounts his travels in Central Asia in May of 1990 as the Soviet Union collapsed, detailing his experiences in Tashkent, Bokhara, Samarkand, Khiva, and other locales.
In 1990, the author travels to the fabled central Asian cities of Bokhara, Samarkand, and Khiva, under the watch of his Soviet-issued guides. Much of the book, however, is not about this journey, but about the travels and adventures of those long past, of whom the author has read extensively. The author, however, considers these Victorian heroes and villains much more interesting than I do, and the endless quotes from travelogues of the past gets tiresome. What’s worse, the authors’ historical immersion sets him up with unrealistic expectations of what these cities are presently like, and he whines like a child when reaching many of them. It’s not a terrible book. The beginning especially, on the miseries of traveling in Russia (or simply being in Russia) are quite good, as are parts in which the author interacts with the locals. But given the potentially fascinating topic, the book is a disappointment.
A different reviewer says "the author is a snob and Thatcherite." Yes. Though this is an interesting book, much of the author's attitude - of superiority? - was off-putting. Ponderous reading. Although some parts of chapters were interesting, on the whole, made a very interesting topic less compelling.
The author is a snob and a Thatcherite (as it turned out 3/4 into the book). He also has a predilection for page-long paragraphs. Otherwise not a bad book. I definitely liked the Russophobia aspect.
"Journey to Khiva" is one of many books on Central Asia on my reading list to prepare for a visit to the region. The book was pleasant at first but became increasingly uncomfortable. Glazebrook is a gifted writer, quite skilled at capturing atmosphere and recounting events with dry wit. His reason for visiting Uzbekistan - fascination with British "heroes" of the mid-19th Century "Great Game" - smacked of a certain smug nostalgia, but early on did not intrude too ponderously. But it all turned out worse than I expected. It is remarkable that a book of such blunt chauvinism and orientalist sentiment could be written as recently as 1992. If you are interested in the Great Game - a genuinely fascinating period in history - the fine books on the topic by William Dalrymple or Peter Hopkirk are much better and more balanced than "Journey to Khiva". And Colin Thubron's "Lost Heart of Asia" is a much more perceptive and informed travel narrative of a journey to Central Asia just shortly after Glazebrook's.
It contains some thought provoking views on the fate of the silk road cities, and some well written chapters about the British and Russian explorers of "The Great Game," but the modern perspectives are somewhat disappointing in their overly personalized presentation.