What do you think?
Rate this book
Slowly Down the Ganges
On his 44th birthday, Eric Newby, a self-confessed river lover, sets out on a 1200 mile journey down the Ganges River from Hardwar to the Bay of Bengal, accompanied by his wife, Wanda. Things do not start smoothly as they run aground 63 times in the first six days, but gradually India's holiest river, The Pure, The Eternal, The Creator of Happiness, lives up to its many names and captures them in its spell. Traveling in a variety of boats, most of them unsuitable, as well as by bus and bullock cart, the Newbys become intimately acquainted with the river's shifting moods and colorful history.
Slowly Down the Ganges brims over with engaging characters and entertaining anecdotes, recounted in Newby's inimitable style. Best of all, he brilliantly captures the sights and sounds, the frustrations and rewards, the sheer enchantment of travel in India.
Slowly Down the Ganges brims over with engaging characters and entertaining anecdotes, recounted in Newby's inimitable style. Best of all, he brilliantly captures the sights and sounds, the frustrations and rewards, the sheer enchantment of travel in India.
384 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1966
About the author
Eric Newby
43 books182 followersGeorge Eric Newby CBE MC (December 6, 1919 – October 20, 2006) was an English author of travel literature.
Newby was born and grew up near Hammersmith Bridge, London, and was educated at St Paul's School. His father was a partner in a firm of wholesale dressmakers but he also harboured dreams of escape, running away to sea as a child before being captured at Millwall. Owing to his father's frequent financial crises and his own failure to pass algebra, Newby was taken away from school at sixteen and put to work as an office boy in the Dorland advertising agency on Regent Street, where he spent most of his time cycling around the office admiring the typists' legs. Fortunately, the agency lost the Kellogg's account and he apprenticed aboard the Finnish windjammer Moshulu in 1938, sailing in what Newby entitled The Last Grain Race (1956) from Europe to Australia and back by way of Cape Horn (his journey was also pictorially documented in Learning the Ropes). In fact, two more grain races followed the 1939 race in which Newby participated, with the last race being held in 1949.
Newby was born and grew up near Hammersmith Bridge, London, and was educated at St Paul's School. His father was a partner in a firm of wholesale dressmakers but he also harboured dreams of escape, running away to sea as a child before being captured at Millwall. Owing to his father's frequent financial crises and his own failure to pass algebra, Newby was taken away from school at sixteen and put to work as an office boy in the Dorland advertising agency on Regent Street, where he spent most of his time cycling around the office admiring the typists' legs. Fortunately, the agency lost the Kellogg's account and he apprenticed aboard the Finnish windjammer Moshulu in 1938, sailing in what Newby entitled The Last Grain Race (1956) from Europe to Australia and back by way of Cape Horn (his journey was also pictorially documented in Learning the Ropes). In fact, two more grain races followed the 1939 race in which Newby participated, with the last race being held in 1949.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 76 reviews
August 18, 2011
It has finally come to my attention that Eric Newby is reputed to be a humorist, representative of the stiff upper lip clan of droll understatement and inane comparisons. In fact, if you find ineptness and poor timing rather laughable, Slowly down the Ganges starts out rather hilariously and gives new meaning to the word slow.
A lot of the book is taken up with the Newbys search for a boat. Loaded down with two tin trunks,valises and baskets, far more than they could carry, Newby and his feisty wife seem spectacularly unprepared for the journey. After all, one would assume that anyone planning a river expedition would have their own, even if rented or borrowed, boat. Newby seems particulay disingenious in relying on others to provide timely assistance.
Once they are en route, however, both he and Wanda pitch in, hauling, slogging through mud and dust, encouraging and actually bonding with their native boatmen, a succession of them that they hired along with the boats. There are some marvelous pictures and we get names and a feel for the kind of encounters the situation throws at them. I was pleased to note that Newby had overcome as best he could, his distance from his surroundings, even going to the extent of learning some of the languge and striking off on his own occassionally.
Typically, Wanda got to do all of the cooking
Newby is also particularly good, when he bothers, at description and historical anecdote. It's a pity that he feels the need to make so many insipid comparisons with his British Islands, I suppose he felt very strange, to be bumbling along the Ganges with his wife.
After patiently following them the whole way, I found the ending dissappointing. Their nick of time rendevous in Calcutta is rather anticlimactic and the bewidering slew of detail regarding the last stage of their journey seems tacked on.
At the end of the day, before I put the book back on the shelf, I feel rather fond, stirred but not rapturous.
A lot of the book is taken up with the Newbys search for a boat. Loaded down with two tin trunks,valises and baskets, far more than they could carry, Newby and his feisty wife seem spectacularly unprepared for the journey. After all, one would assume that anyone planning a river expedition would have their own, even if rented or borrowed, boat. Newby seems particulay disingenious in relying on others to provide timely assistance.
Once they are en route, however, both he and Wanda pitch in, hauling, slogging through mud and dust, encouraging and actually bonding with their native boatmen, a succession of them that they hired along with the boats. There are some marvelous pictures and we get names and a feel for the kind of encounters the situation throws at them. I was pleased to note that Newby had overcome as best he could, his distance from his surroundings, even going to the extent of learning some of the languge and striking off on his own occassionally.
Typically, Wanda got to do all of the cooking
Newby is also particularly good, when he bothers, at description and historical anecdote. It's a pity that he feels the need to make so many insipid comparisons with his British Islands, I suppose he felt very strange, to be bumbling along the Ganges with his wife.
After patiently following them the whole way, I found the ending dissappointing. Their nick of time rendevous in Calcutta is rather anticlimactic and the bewidering slew of detail regarding the last stage of their journey seems tacked on.
At the end of the day, before I put the book back on the shelf, I feel rather fond, stirred but not rapturous.
April 8, 2020
I have read only the terrible introduction, followed by the reading of a list of 108 names for the river and four chapters. Maybe I am edgy. Maybe I have a short temper, but I cannot take any more of this. I don't like the prose style. I presume the lines are supposed to be funny. I am not laughing and I'm bored stiff. In addition, the audiobook narration by James Bryce is a pain to listen to. He mumbles.
April 11, 2016
This seems to be 'catching a bit of heat' from the Eat-Pray-Love crew, who I guess are the usual market for travel books in India, but I absolutely loved this. The Newbys are always delightful company, and Eric is at his finest here. His matter-of-fact nature avoids all the usual travel writing cliches about Asia - neither doing a comic turn about the difficulties posed by food poisoning and public transport, dabbing a metaphorical hanky to the eye over the poverty and desperation, nor yuckily gushing over the *aaaaammaaaaaazing* spirituality of it all. Instead Newby authentically captures the experience of being a westerner in Asia, neither straining to exaggerate incidents for tragedy or comic effect, or underplaying their inconvenience, and certainly not cobbling together any trite stories of spiritual-whatchamacallit. I would maybe have enjoyed a bit more background about the local religion/mythology; I've yet to find a really five-star resource on Hinduism, but the tone Newby takes here - respectful, reserved but not humourless - strikes me as a good balance.
As ever, Newby's fearsome wife Wanda is the star turn, and is on exceptional form here, dramatically threatening to leave Eric 'forever', and 'return to her land and her people' about once a chapter. A particularly amusing bit was when she decided to cook some local food, but gruffly refused to use onions, either oblivious or indifferent to the consternation this caused everyone about her. Most of the boatmen refused to eat the meal, leaving Eric to glumly plod his way through a vast mound of curry, wondering quietly if it might - maybe, just maybe - have been a bit better with some onions.
A slightly weird side note: Scrolling through old reviews before starting this I was troubled to see a reference to a 'deplorable incident' where Newby talks 'with fond nostalgia' about visiting a 10yr old prostitute. Having read the incident in question I can only assume the earlier reviewer allowed himself to get overexcited. Newby seems somewhat rueful about the affair and, unsurprisingly, no information about the girl's age is given. I wouldn't normally raise points of order like this, but it did seem a pretty serious misreading, and in need of correction
All in all, an excellent bit of honest travel writing about a country where most western writers collapse under the weight of their own crowd-pleasing artifice.
As ever, Newby's fearsome wife Wanda is the star turn, and is on exceptional form here, dramatically threatening to leave Eric 'forever', and 'return to her land and her people' about once a chapter. A particularly amusing bit was when she decided to cook some local food, but gruffly refused to use onions, either oblivious or indifferent to the consternation this caused everyone about her. Most of the boatmen refused to eat the meal, leaving Eric to glumly plod his way through a vast mound of curry, wondering quietly if it might - maybe, just maybe - have been a bit better with some onions.
A slightly weird side note: Scrolling through old reviews before starting this I was troubled to see a reference to a 'deplorable incident' where Newby talks 'with fond nostalgia' about visiting a 10yr old prostitute. Having read the incident in question I can only assume the earlier reviewer allowed himself to get overexcited. Newby seems somewhat rueful about the affair and, unsurprisingly, no information about the girl's age is given. I wouldn't normally raise points of order like this, but it did seem a pretty serious misreading, and in need of correction
All in all, an excellent bit of honest travel writing about a country where most western writers collapse under the weight of their own crowd-pleasing artifice.
April 12, 2018
I don't have a Did Not Finish shelf, as I usually don't review, rate, or otherwise note those. However, having found some of Newby's other work hilarious, I was almost amazed at how I had to talk myself into picking this one up each time. Tired of waiting for the interesting or really funny bits that never seemed to materialize.
May 6, 2020
Larry McMurtry wrote, "I myself might claim to be the world’s biggest fan of "Slowly Down the Ganges", a wonderful travel book by Eric Newby, which I have been rereading more or less continuously since 1965."
High praise, indeed! But it may not be for me. I'm currently stalled at p.75, at ~ 1/4 in. It is indeed a slow trip! They went at low water, and were woefully unprepared. They had no boat (early 1960s). tried and failed to buy one, finally borrowed one from the canal authority. The boat they got, of solid steel plate, was so heavy it took 32 men to launch it! And displaced accordingly, so they were spending most of their time stuck in the gravel-bars, no fun for them or the reader. I'll look to see what others have thought....
OK, I applied my usual test for a stalled book -- I set it aside for awhile, to see if I had any desire to read on. Answer: little or none, and it was coming due at the library. Not for me!
High praise, indeed! But it may not be for me. I'm currently stalled at p.75, at ~ 1/4 in. It is indeed a slow trip! They went at low water, and were woefully unprepared. They had no boat (early 1960s). tried and failed to buy one, finally borrowed one from the canal authority. The boat they got, of solid steel plate, was so heavy it took 32 men to launch it! And displaced accordingly, so they were spending most of their time stuck in the gravel-bars, no fun for them or the reader. I'll look to see what others have thought....
OK, I applied my usual test for a stalled book -- I set it aside for awhile, to see if I had any desire to read on. Answer: little or none, and it was coming due at the library. Not for me!
March 30, 2019
This is an account of Englishman Eric Newby's attempt to sail down the Ganges on small boats along with his wife in the mid-1950s. The varied topography of the Gangetic plains and the rich history of the people of the region should have made it a compelling journey. Also, it would have been a great opportunity to document a young country still coming to terms with its newly found freedom. Yet it ultimately turned out to be at best a mildly amusing travelogue.
Perhaps a contemporary British writer would have likely presented a patronizing or pious attitude towards Sub-Continental culture, a polite kindness that seems overtly oblivious to our faults and shortcomings. Newby, on the other hand, is franker in expressing his often puzzling interactions with the Indian system, yet there is an undeniable strain of clear condescension in his tone. I wonder if he was left with any greater understanding of the Indian mentality than when started the journey.
He decides to travel in the winter months when the water is low, and the boat runs aground quite frequently. Many pages go into their several struggles to unstuck the boat and it quickly becomes tedious reading. He seems to think that having a tattered letter from the Prime Minister would secure him easy passage and facilitation by officials at many stages of the journey, and which unsurprisingly does not work out.
A few chapters stand out for their more contemplative treatment. The consideration of the 1857 revolt from an English point of view, was strangely, exceptionally moving. The heavy price which many of the residents of the British garrison had to pay is something that is rarely remembered now. Newby finds the memorials English erected in remembrance of the dead are effaced or allowed to fall into neglect, barely 10 years after their exit.
"In the garden, there was a stone memorial screen and a sickly looking angel executed in white marble by an Italian, Baron Marcochetti, who was a protege of Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort. Until the Partition of India it had stood in the Memorial Garden in the City above the well into which the bodies of the massacred had been flung. In 1947 it had been saved from a mob which was intent on destroying it by the gallant efforts of a number of Indian Christians and re-erected here. At the same time, the Memorial Gardens become the Municipal Gardens."
Another interesting chapter is Newby's visit to the Fatehgarh cantonment, to a regiment with whom he had served during the war. Though the rule of the country had changed hands, he finds some remnants of the old airs and traditions still lingering there.
The massive stampede at the first Kumbh Mela after Independence in 1954 is another topic treated by Newby. Hundreds had lost their lives in the panic. Newby's visit is a couple of years after that, but he describes the tragedy and the government response.
Newby & Co are seasoned, hardscrabble travelers, spurning many conveniences and preferring the raw toil of travel on uncertain roads. Their journey was undoubtedly a bold adventure. Yet I wish they could have seen the country with greater insight. Their preoccupation with the exotic rather than what which is fundamental ultimately diminishes the value of the book.
Perhaps a contemporary British writer would have likely presented a patronizing or pious attitude towards Sub-Continental culture, a polite kindness that seems overtly oblivious to our faults and shortcomings. Newby, on the other hand, is franker in expressing his often puzzling interactions with the Indian system, yet there is an undeniable strain of clear condescension in his tone. I wonder if he was left with any greater understanding of the Indian mentality than when started the journey.
He decides to travel in the winter months when the water is low, and the boat runs aground quite frequently. Many pages go into their several struggles to unstuck the boat and it quickly becomes tedious reading. He seems to think that having a tattered letter from the Prime Minister would secure him easy passage and facilitation by officials at many stages of the journey, and which unsurprisingly does not work out.
A few chapters stand out for their more contemplative treatment. The consideration of the 1857 revolt from an English point of view, was strangely, exceptionally moving. The heavy price which many of the residents of the British garrison had to pay is something that is rarely remembered now. Newby finds the memorials English erected in remembrance of the dead are effaced or allowed to fall into neglect, barely 10 years after their exit.
"In the garden, there was a stone memorial screen and a sickly looking angel executed in white marble by an Italian, Baron Marcochetti, who was a protege of Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort. Until the Partition of India it had stood in the Memorial Garden in the City above the well into which the bodies of the massacred had been flung. In 1947 it had been saved from a mob which was intent on destroying it by the gallant efforts of a number of Indian Christians and re-erected here. At the same time, the Memorial Gardens become the Municipal Gardens."
Another interesting chapter is Newby's visit to the Fatehgarh cantonment, to a regiment with whom he had served during the war. Though the rule of the country had changed hands, he finds some remnants of the old airs and traditions still lingering there.
The massive stampede at the first Kumbh Mela after Independence in 1954 is another topic treated by Newby. Hundreds had lost their lives in the panic. Newby's visit is a couple of years after that, but he describes the tragedy and the government response.
Newby & Co are seasoned, hardscrabble travelers, spurning many conveniences and preferring the raw toil of travel on uncertain roads. Their journey was undoubtedly a bold adventure. Yet I wish they could have seen the country with greater insight. Their preoccupation with the exotic rather than what which is fundamental ultimately diminishes the value of the book.
January 10, 2013
Eric Newby in typical Newby style. Never rushed and never over-excited.
Probably one of the worst researched river expeditions written about - Who turns up near the headwaters of a river, planning to navigate its length, to find it in not a foot deep? Who continues to rent a boat, load it up and depart, only to be required to move rocks for the first 3 days in order to form a channel to allow the boat to be encouraged downstream a little.
For a river expedition, Newby does a reasonable amount of travel on buses and trains, but does manage some boat time in this book.
Readable, (although the version I have contains painfully small font), and hilarious in parts, although in Newby's understated way. Updated from 3 star to 4 star on reflection.
"Bhogpur is two kos from Bhagmalpur," he said. If Bhogpur is two kos from Bhagmalpur, then it may be possible to make a reasonable guess at our position. It depended on what he meant by a kos.
"There are seventy rassis in one kos," Karam Chand said.
"There are twelve hundred laggis in one kos," said Bhosla in a sudden garrulous outburst.
"There are three thousand six hundred gaj in one kos, said Jagganath, the youngest boatman.
"Now I am telling you," said G. "If one kos is three thousand six hundred gaj, there are three miles and eighty yards in one kos." If this was so, we had not travelled more than five miles since the previous morning.*
* There is also a gaukos, a rather vague measure - the distance a cow's bellow can be heard.
P70.
Another quote - when they were quite lost:
"On the foreshore, a small girl who was looking after a flock of sheep and goats said that Raoli was two kos.
half a mile further on we passed four fishermen asleep on a sandbank in the shadow of their nets which were drying on poles. With a lot of hollering we managed to wake them. "Raoli," they said, looking down at us grumpily, "is three kos. With such a boat such you may make it in two hours," and lay down again. A quarter of an hour later some men loading a country boat with sugar can told us Raoli was four kos."
Probably one of the worst researched river expeditions written about - Who turns up near the headwaters of a river, planning to navigate its length, to find it in not a foot deep? Who continues to rent a boat, load it up and depart, only to be required to move rocks for the first 3 days in order to form a channel to allow the boat to be encouraged downstream a little.
For a river expedition, Newby does a reasonable amount of travel on buses and trains, but does manage some boat time in this book.
Readable, (although the version I have contains painfully small font), and hilarious in parts, although in Newby's understated way. Updated from 3 star to 4 star on reflection.
"Bhogpur is two kos from Bhagmalpur," he said. If Bhogpur is two kos from Bhagmalpur, then it may be possible to make a reasonable guess at our position. It depended on what he meant by a kos.
"There are seventy rassis in one kos," Karam Chand said.
"There are twelve hundred laggis in one kos," said Bhosla in a sudden garrulous outburst.
"There are three thousand six hundred gaj in one kos, said Jagganath, the youngest boatman.
"Now I am telling you," said G. "If one kos is three thousand six hundred gaj, there are three miles and eighty yards in one kos." If this was so, we had not travelled more than five miles since the previous morning.*
* There is also a gaukos, a rather vague measure - the distance a cow's bellow can be heard.
P70.
Another quote - when they were quite lost:
"On the foreshore, a small girl who was looking after a flock of sheep and goats said that Raoli was two kos.
half a mile further on we passed four fishermen asleep on a sandbank in the shadow of their nets which were drying on poles. With a lot of hollering we managed to wake them. "Raoli," they said, looking down at us grumpily, "is three kos. With such a boat such you may make it in two hours," and lay down again. A quarter of an hour later some men loading a country boat with sugar can told us Raoli was four kos."
December 30, 2017
Newby at his best. Erudite, well-informed, compassionate, cranky and eccentric travel writing.
The first half of the book goes along brilliantly. Having recently visited some of the places mentioned in this part of the book, I found the description truthful (and funny).
But I found the second half somewhat plodding. I found myself merely skimming over the passages of the last chapter on the tugboat journey from Calcutta to the sea. It is full of maritime descriptions which were not of much interest to me.
I found Newby's descriptions of his journey honest and hilarious (in an understated British way). I have stayed in railway waiting rooms and taken trains at ungoldly hours of the morning. The author's descriptions of these rang very true to me.
As for the reviews that say that they wish the author delved more into Hindu mythology, Indian history, etc. - get yourself an encyclopedia. Throughout the week and a half I was reading this book, I found myself opening up Google Earth and slowly navigating down the Ganges (virtually) reading up on the places that the writer describes.
The first half of the book goes along brilliantly. Having recently visited some of the places mentioned in this part of the book, I found the description truthful (and funny).
But I found the second half somewhat plodding. I found myself merely skimming over the passages of the last chapter on the tugboat journey from Calcutta to the sea. It is full of maritime descriptions which were not of much interest to me.
I found Newby's descriptions of his journey honest and hilarious (in an understated British way). I have stayed in railway waiting rooms and taken trains at ungoldly hours of the morning. The author's descriptions of these rang very true to me.
As for the reviews that say that they wish the author delved more into Hindu mythology, Indian history, etc. - get yourself an encyclopedia. Throughout the week and a half I was reading this book, I found myself opening up Google Earth and slowly navigating down the Ganges (virtually) reading up on the places that the writer describes.
April 16, 2009
i love this book, it would be one of the reasons that i went to india, except that i read it after i went to india, but things could have easily happened the other way around.
October 25, 2017
Enjoyed this at first. Newby can be very funny while never being stupid. I also appreciated the snapshot of India pre-globalization and not too long after partition. But too much of it reads almost like a list of what he saw. For a journey that has a very defined start and end, it was absent any meaningful narrative structure. Perhaps that's his style, but by book's end I was long done.
That said, far be it from me to too heavily criticize anyone who undertakes a long trip like this. I'm grateful he went and will consider one of his better-liked books in the future.
That said, far be it from me to too heavily criticize anyone who undertakes a long trip like this. I'm grateful he went and will consider one of his better-liked books in the future.
June 16, 2008
After failing to secure an interview with a naked ascetic who was reputed to eat dung and human flesh, Eric Newby confesses, "It is difficult to be funny in India." And that's the problem with this book. It's just not funny. If you've read some of Newby's other travel books, you've certainly cracked a smile, and I bet once or twice you laughed out loud. But this book isn't like that. It's a slow, tedious read. The touches of humor that seep through are too often labored or muted by the author's frustrations and weariness.
Slowly down the Ganges traces the Newby's 1963 journey from Hardwar to the Bay of Bengal. In dry, almost dour language, he recounts their exhausting trip by boat, train, rickshaw, jeep, and oxcart through northern India, where received notions of logic and propriety differ markedly from his own.
Luckily, he has the companionship of his long-suffering wife, Wanda, whose cool head saves the day more than once. I really warmed to her ... until she intentionally left the onions out of the lamb curry, a culinary faux pas that revealed more cultural insensitivity than all of her husband's sardonic observations.
Slowly down the Ganges is a book written by a professional traveler who has learned to fill out his three-hundred pages with protracted historical summations, turgid descriptions of sunsets, water fowl and misty horizons, and long litanies of temples, shrines, and shipwrecks. What's lacking is the spontaneity and energy of Newby's previous books (The Great Grain Race, A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush), that held a reader's interest by their immediacy and uncontrived wit.
Slowly down the Ganges traces the Newby's 1963 journey from Hardwar to the Bay of Bengal. In dry, almost dour language, he recounts their exhausting trip by boat, train, rickshaw, jeep, and oxcart through northern India, where received notions of logic and propriety differ markedly from his own.
Luckily, he has the companionship of his long-suffering wife, Wanda, whose cool head saves the day more than once. I really warmed to her ... until she intentionally left the onions out of the lamb curry, a culinary faux pas that revealed more cultural insensitivity than all of her husband's sardonic observations.
Slowly down the Ganges is a book written by a professional traveler who has learned to fill out his three-hundred pages with protracted historical summations, turgid descriptions of sunsets, water fowl and misty horizons, and long litanies of temples, shrines, and shipwrecks. What's lacking is the spontaneity and energy of Newby's previous books (The Great Grain Race, A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush), that held a reader's interest by their immediacy and uncontrived wit.
March 28, 2016
The lack of background explanation for most of the places Newby visited made this a not-very-enlightening (no pun intended) book , and certainly not a very good introduction to India. To get the most mileage be prepared to Wikipedia lots of Hindu deities and events from the era of the British Raj. Also disappointing was the complete lack of research that went into this trip - Newby beings his journey in winter when the Ganges is at its lowest stage and spends less time sailing and more time dragging the boat through endless sandbars and shallows. I know what you're thinking - very exciting stuff.
While I understand this book was written more than 50 years ago and times have changed, I was somewhat put off by Newby's almost complete disregard for his wife (who accompanied him on the trip) except as a cook and an occasional nuisance when she threatens to leave. She had almost no lines of real dialogue and her thoughts and feelings about the voyage were completely ignored.
Finally *spoiler alert* there is one utterly deplorable section in which Newby recounts - with fond nostalgia and absolutely no irony or remorse - a moment during his WWII service in India in which he and a couple of other officers visited a brothel and enjoyed the pleasures of three 10- year old Indian girls. Revolting.
While I understand this book was written more than 50 years ago and times have changed, I was somewhat put off by Newby's almost complete disregard for his wife (who accompanied him on the trip) except as a cook and an occasional nuisance when she threatens to leave. She had almost no lines of real dialogue and her thoughts and feelings about the voyage were completely ignored.
Finally *spoiler alert* there is one utterly deplorable section in which Newby recounts - with fond nostalgia and absolutely no irony or remorse - a moment during his WWII service in India in which he and a couple of other officers visited a brothel and enjoyed the pleasures of three 10- year old Indian girls. Revolting.
April 29, 2009
Re-read it last night. If you like bone dry british humor and travel writing Eric Newby is your guy.
July 28, 2018
The view of India I am familiar with is the one portrayed by the commercial yoga industry. Overlooking the poverty, the violent past, and the 'unwestern' tenets of Hinduism leaves India painted in a positive light. Beneficial when you're trying to sell an ideology to someone.
Newby doesn't have the same goal as a modern yoga teacher. In Slowly Down the Ganges, Newby doesn't shy away from pointing out the other side of Hinduism and wider Indian culture. Holy men are put in front of the reader to judge, a memorable example interested only in acquiring alcohol to drink from his polished human skull in exchange for his brand of wisdom. Another holy man found lying naked in front of a local post office, an exhibitionist as explained by a passerby, and allegedly in the game of eating his own faeces. Other recurring characters are the hired boatman, seemingly an entity unto their own whether being paid or not. Another, the railway staff member, often purposely unhelpful, or at least this is how Newby paints them. Rats, sewage, food poisoning, and unscrupulous tradesmen, this is the India the reader is offered.
However, the conversations become more and more difficult to believe. During the course of the journey there are a number of conversations which if you were taking at face value would appear to end with neither party really understanding the other, but this doesn't stop the author painting his own conclusion, usually that he was being treated rudely or was trying to have the wool pulled over his eyes. (Newby takes with him on this journey a letter from the then current Prime Minister of India. The document eventually having to be preserved in a plastic wallet as he has attempted to use it at every leg of the journey as a bargaining chip for help from the locals). Conversations which are clearly innocent misunderstanding require patience and an understanding of cultural difference to get past, rather than blame of the other party.
There are parts of this journey where the history of the British occupation is apparent, and apparent how destructive the occupation was to certain civilisations within the country. There are a number of stories along the journey, stories of Newby's time with the British army in India. One of which involves him and his army companions dressing up as locals to gain entry to a local brothel, describing an encounter with a 12 year old prostitute. It is in no way apologetic, the meeting portrayed as awkward rather than anything else, but nonetheless inexcusable.
Despite the positive parts of the journey, which are few, (the occasional times the party are offered special services or guidance, it isn't positively received), it's hard to see past the arrogant colonialism. I hope India is a more wonderful place than this misunderstood view. There is the occasional comic relief in the authors witty responses to 'difficult' people he meets, though hopefully these were lost on their Indian recipients as much as the communication is lost in the rest of the encounters.
Newby doesn't have the same goal as a modern yoga teacher. In Slowly Down the Ganges, Newby doesn't shy away from pointing out the other side of Hinduism and wider Indian culture. Holy men are put in front of the reader to judge, a memorable example interested only in acquiring alcohol to drink from his polished human skull in exchange for his brand of wisdom. Another holy man found lying naked in front of a local post office, an exhibitionist as explained by a passerby, and allegedly in the game of eating his own faeces. Other recurring characters are the hired boatman, seemingly an entity unto their own whether being paid or not. Another, the railway staff member, often purposely unhelpful, or at least this is how Newby paints them. Rats, sewage, food poisoning, and unscrupulous tradesmen, this is the India the reader is offered.
However, the conversations become more and more difficult to believe. During the course of the journey there are a number of conversations which if you were taking at face value would appear to end with neither party really understanding the other, but this doesn't stop the author painting his own conclusion, usually that he was being treated rudely or was trying to have the wool pulled over his eyes. (Newby takes with him on this journey a letter from the then current Prime Minister of India. The document eventually having to be preserved in a plastic wallet as he has attempted to use it at every leg of the journey as a bargaining chip for help from the locals). Conversations which are clearly innocent misunderstanding require patience and an understanding of cultural difference to get past, rather than blame of the other party.
There are parts of this journey where the history of the British occupation is apparent, and apparent how destructive the occupation was to certain civilisations within the country. There are a number of stories along the journey, stories of Newby's time with the British army in India. One of which involves him and his army companions dressing up as locals to gain entry to a local brothel, describing an encounter with a 12 year old prostitute. It is in no way apologetic, the meeting portrayed as awkward rather than anything else, but nonetheless inexcusable.
Despite the positive parts of the journey, which are few, (the occasional times the party are offered special services or guidance, it isn't positively received), it's hard to see past the arrogant colonialism. I hope India is a more wonderful place than this misunderstood view. There is the occasional comic relief in the authors witty responses to 'difficult' people he meets, though hopefully these were lost on their Indian recipients as much as the communication is lost in the rest of the encounters.
May 27, 2026
Dry humour and full of adventure
July 29, 2018
Eric Newby's Slowly Down the Ganges is a travel classic written more than half a century ago. It is not a work of exploration, as several hundred million people lived along his route. It is just that the Ganges is not easily navigable for much of its length, as it is a river of shifting silt almost as much as it is of water. There are many stretches where, boating on the river, the author's party ran aground more than ten times a day. Other places, they had to go by train because there were no boats or there was no riverine navigation possible.
What surprised me most about this book is that the author traveled the whole two-odd months with his wife, with her threatening to leave him at several points of extreme discomfort. Remember this, travelers, do not take your loved one(s) on an expedition on which they will be tempted to hate you.
I was surprised to read that the Ganges is surprisingly potable, despite the thousands of cholera-ridden bodies that are burned in ghats along much of its length. Based on newspaper stories written after Newby's book, it seems that, far from being potable, the Ganges is dangerously polluted and that the Indian government is concerned. It is possible that the pollution has grown by stages since the book was first published in 1966.
What surprised me most about this book is that the author traveled the whole two-odd months with his wife, with her threatening to leave him at several points of extreme discomfort. Remember this, travelers, do not take your loved one(s) on an expedition on which they will be tempted to hate you.
I was surprised to read that the Ganges is surprisingly potable, despite the thousands of cholera-ridden bodies that are burned in ghats along much of its length. Based on newspaper stories written after Newby's book, it seems that, far from being potable, the Ganges is dangerously polluted and that the Indian government is concerned. It is possible that the pollution has grown by stages since the book was first published in 1966.
April 5, 2021
I usually feel I can't go wrong reading travel books, especially during a pandemic when we have been forced to stay put, but this book was hard to enjoy. The title is accurate in that it is a "slow" book. So much of this book seems strange. Eric Newby and his wife, Wanda, wanted to travel down the Ganges River in India from near its start in northern India to its end, just south of Calcutta. They even had a letter from the Prime Minister of India to help them on their way, but most of the trip is spent negotiating travel on rickety boats with their overabundance of luggage or riding trains when no boats were available. The history of most towns they pass through is told in excruciating detail. It seemed that they could have traveled lighter or planned their trip better, but I found it all very frustrating. I found myself skimming a lot. Like them, at the end of the trip, I was glad to see this trip done.
July 10, 2019
‘Slowly Down The Ganges’ has many meanings, not the least of which is the pace of reading this book. Unlike some of his other books this one doesn’t have the same light-hearted feel to it. There is more a sense of dogged determination to see it through to the end in spite of the hardships, miserable conditions and often unpleasant surroundings (floating corpses and human waste) which put a strain on his relationship with his wife, Wanda. As well as giving a description and history of the various places they visited, he expounds on some of the bewildering mythology of Hinduism, its many gods and their various squabbles and wars.
While there are undoubtedly some beautiful sights to see, I was quite happy to leave Newby to the heat, the stench, the mosquitoes, the filth and the food poisoning. India is definitely not on my bucket list.
While there are undoubtedly some beautiful sights to see, I was quite happy to leave Newby to the heat, the stench, the mosquitoes, the filth and the food poisoning. India is definitely not on my bucket list.
April 1, 2009
I was disappointed in this author. This book chronicles a trip down the Ganges in the mid 1960's. And, as Newby's trip was slow, this book is slow. I did not get from this book the colors and the life that I experinced in my travels in India. While the author makes a lot of the sights and sounds and smells, he does it in a way that feels like a complaint, not a description of wonder. He does not get it, India. Maybe it is his British heratige that clouds his perspective because I feel he has a different attitude in his book "A small place in Italy." Anyway, I loaned the book to a person who is embarking on a cruise down the Ganges, one who has never been to India before. Thinking back, I would rather him read "holy cow" the best India travelogue I have read to date.
February 4, 2018
I suppose I should of judged the book by its title a little better. 'Slowly' is definitely guaranteed here. The 'Ganges' excited me but unfortunately the book did not.
Nothing really happens in the story, not really - it's just Newby and his wife heading downstream in a boat with a few trials & tribulations kicked in, but nothing out of the ordinary. The book was readable and occasionally interesting, but not enough.
Perhaps I just don't bode well with this author, I know his books are generally well received. Alas, not for me.
Nothing really happens in the story, not really - it's just Newby and his wife heading downstream in a boat with a few trials & tribulations kicked in, but nothing out of the ordinary. The book was readable and occasionally interesting, but not enough.
Perhaps I just don't bode well with this author, I know his books are generally well received. Alas, not for me.
April 24, 2012
I was disappointed that the writing was not as interesting as I would guess the journey was. Not enough about the on-the-water part of the journey. Not enough about the end of the journey - seemed like the author lost interest in his own story long before he reached Calcutta.
May 25, 2020
Love most of Newby's work but hated this. Unbearably slow and uninteresting; even the occasional spot of humor couldn't bring me back. I'm just glad I made it to the end.
December 27, 2021
I was beyond delighted when I found Slowly Down the Ganges in a little free library. I had read it over 20 years ago and loved it then, along with Eric Newby's other books I had read. I loved it then, and I love it now. Slowly Down the Ganges is an account of a trip Newby and his wife Wanda took by whatever boat was available in 1963 from Hardwar, in the foothills of the Himalayas, to the mouth of the Ganges. This was a journey of some 1,200 miles. My recollection was that they accomplished this mostly by train, but that was incorrect. Newby and Wanda did take trains occasionally when there were no boats to be had, but primarily they went by boat; leaky boats, boats with jerrybuilt oars that scarcely moved the boat at all, boats with recalcitrant boatmen, but by boat.
Newby has a wonderful eye for the scenery and life of India, and describes it with loving detail. Now, I have to say here, he was born in 1919, and so grew up in the very last stages of the British Empire. Sometimes, his descriptions of Indian life are less than respectful. My daughter dislikes him because he makes fun of the people he sees. I think he is hilariously funny. You make up your own mind on the matter.
But if you want an account of India that in many ways had not changed for thousands of years, written by a western author who with an impressive command of both the history of the subcontinent and the religious significance of the river read this book. "...to millions of Hindus, it is the most sacred, most venerated river on earth. For them it is Ganga Ma--Mother Ganges. To bathe in it is to wash away guilt. To drink the water, having bathed in it, ad to carry it away in bottles for those who have not had the good fortune to make the pilgrimage to it is meritorious." And so on.
The book opens with an introduction concerning the significance of the Ganges and the 108 names of the river. Some reviewers apparently found this boring and silly. Some of the names may strike us as silly, such as Born from the lotus-like foot of Vishnu or Dwelling in the matted locks of Siva, but these names are important to those who venerate the river.
The voyage begins with a prolonged argument with a man who owns a boat, but does not wish to rent it to the Newbys. Finally he agrees to let them take it 100 miles down the river where the boatmen who came with the boat would return it to Hardwar on a truck. All this would cost 500 rupees, 40 pounds sterling in British money, or $112 US. This may not seem like much to us, but 50 years ago, it was a lot, especially if every boat they hired would cost as much. Despite the cost and the apparent leakiness of the boat, the Newbys took it, and were on their way, running aground on the Ganges sandbars, and suffering through the boatmen's desire to camp in unsuitable places.
I found this to be a beautifully written and funny book. I hope others will like it as well.
Newby has a wonderful eye for the scenery and life of India, and describes it with loving detail. Now, I have to say here, he was born in 1919, and so grew up in the very last stages of the British Empire. Sometimes, his descriptions of Indian life are less than respectful. My daughter dislikes him because he makes fun of the people he sees. I think he is hilariously funny. You make up your own mind on the matter.
But if you want an account of India that in many ways had not changed for thousands of years, written by a western author who with an impressive command of both the history of the subcontinent and the religious significance of the river read this book. "...to millions of Hindus, it is the most sacred, most venerated river on earth. For them it is Ganga Ma--Mother Ganges. To bathe in it is to wash away guilt. To drink the water, having bathed in it, ad to carry it away in bottles for those who have not had the good fortune to make the pilgrimage to it is meritorious." And so on.
The book opens with an introduction concerning the significance of the Ganges and the 108 names of the river. Some reviewers apparently found this boring and silly. Some of the names may strike us as silly, such as Born from the lotus-like foot of Vishnu or Dwelling in the matted locks of Siva, but these names are important to those who venerate the river.
The voyage begins with a prolonged argument with a man who owns a boat, but does not wish to rent it to the Newbys. Finally he agrees to let them take it 100 miles down the river where the boatmen who came with the boat would return it to Hardwar on a truck. All this would cost 500 rupees, 40 pounds sterling in British money, or $112 US. This may not seem like much to us, but 50 years ago, it was a lot, especially if every boat they hired would cost as much. Despite the cost and the apparent leakiness of the boat, the Newbys took it, and were on their way, running aground on the Ganges sandbars, and suffering through the boatmen's desire to camp in unsuitable places.
I found this to be a beautifully written and funny book. I hope others will like it as well.
August 15, 2018
This is truly a book that you have to appreciate reading while in India, or having visited the country at least once. In his slyly humorous but informative style, Newby paints a very personal portrait of mid-60's India by River, in this case being the highly revered and symbolic Ganges, the heart of India's Hindi belt. This book is an eclectic mix of experiences with colorful (and sometimes duplicitous) characters, ruins, palaces, mosques, boats, and a good deal of mud, silt and water. This is not a guidebook, and while the narrative follows a progression, is also a collection of many different sub-adventures and escapades. The book is aptly divided into chapters that illuminate a certain leg of the author and his wife's journey down the river, and while not appealing to all readers, does tend to progress at a leisurely, measured, pace. Much in the manner of the sacred Ganges itself. This is a very human narrative, as there is very little high adventure or exotic experience to be witnessed, but the manner the author portrays the rather mundane aspects of river travel and cultural India is such that a reader is compelled to at least be humored a bit by aspects of mankind that transcend borders and cultures. As I mentioned in the first paragraph, a reader having been to India will have a greater understanding of some of the Indian specific cultural elements profiled in the book, especially those relating to Hinduism, and its influence on Indian ways. Overall an enjoyable read, fit for slow consumption and contemplation.
4/5 stars pros: humor, lighthearted, offers personal perspective on lesser known Indian locations cons: requires some experience of India to appreciate book, pacing is slow at times
4/5 stars pros: humor, lighthearted, offers personal perspective on lesser known Indian locations cons: requires some experience of India to appreciate book, pacing is slow at times
December 9, 2021
Larry McMurtry, who owned thousands of travel books, and presumably had read many of them, called this a classic. So I was predisposed to liked it. And there were aspects that I loved, but not as much apparently as McMurtry. Published in 1966, it is the story of a journey - mostly by boat, but sometimes by train, foot, and rickshaw - down the Ganges. It did not sound like fun. In many ways, it was a journey from another time, for Eric Newby and his wife Wanda did it the hard way -- with little planning, no boat of their own, and without the modern gear that would have made the journey so much easier. (They did have a letter of introduction from Prime Minister Nehru, which open a few doors, but not many). There were the usual travails of visitors to India including food poisoning, miserable accommodations, and curious customs. (Newby spends way too much time telling you about his countless visits to ruins and holy shrines.) But travel on Ganges brought unique challenges - not least of which was eating, drinking, and sleeping on a river that was used as a burial site. On a number of occasions, they commented on corpses caught in eddies and only partially cremated.
For Newby, this was in part a nostalgic trip, for he served briefly at an English fort on the Ganges during World War II. You should be warned about his recalling of a trip with his Army buddies to a local brothel, where both young girls and boys were provided to clients. To him, it was a funny story. To the modern reader, it is appalling.
For Newby, this was in part a nostalgic trip, for he served briefly at an English fort on the Ganges during World War II. You should be warned about his recalling of a trip with his Army buddies to a local brothel, where both young girls and boys were provided to clients. To him, it was a funny story. To the modern reader, it is appalling.
May 11, 2020
It is very funny. And it does accurately describe what it's like to travel in India, even though sixty years have passed. I recognised a lot of the culture and the beauty and the joy.
But it is also quite poorly written, especially towards the end. Poor Wanda, Eric's wife, has very little space, and she has to do all the cooking. There's quite a lot of rambling - the book can't really decide if it wants to describe the culture of where they're going, focus on their thoughts and feelings, or just be about the British rule in India.
And speaking of the British rule in India, that left a nasty taste in my mouth. Newby is very appreciative of the Empire in a way that I, as someone with modern sensibilities, feel uncomfortable with. I suppose Partition had hardly been twenty years ago when he wrote this - but it was discomforting to read about all that stuff.
NB - Slowly Down the Ganges makes it sound like it's an artful, relaxing, sophisticated book. It's not. Slowly really is the operative word.
But it is also quite poorly written, especially towards the end. Poor Wanda, Eric's wife, has very little space, and she has to do all the cooking. There's quite a lot of rambling - the book can't really decide if it wants to describe the culture of where they're going, focus on their thoughts and feelings, or just be about the British rule in India.
And speaking of the British rule in India, that left a nasty taste in my mouth. Newby is very appreciative of the Empire in a way that I, as someone with modern sensibilities, feel uncomfortable with. I suppose Partition had hardly been twenty years ago when he wrote this - but it was discomforting to read about all that stuff.
NB - Slowly Down the Ganges makes it sound like it's an artful, relaxing, sophisticated book. It's not. Slowly really is the operative word.
January 29, 2023
Repetitively down the Ganges.....
I don't want to be harsh, but this was awful. Or my experience of reading it was awful at least. I read this book very slowly so perhaps that is slightly to blame, I persevered despite its lack of merit to the bitter end much akin to how Newby and his wife travelled down the Ganges. Even in the final pages I was tempted to discard this. Newby disconnects the reader from the experience by giving very little insight into if he took any significance from this journey. I expected some form of reflection towards the end but just got a detailed rundown of the Calcutta waterways instead.
They seemed to have the same experience again and again each chapter and there was little in the way of themes or portrayal of self-development. It gives a fairly detailed history of areas they travelled through but doesn't attempt to string their experiences together in anyway but the linear matter-of-fact journey.
There was one chapter about cannibals that was interesting. For that, I give the star.
I don't want to be harsh, but this was awful. Or my experience of reading it was awful at least. I read this book very slowly so perhaps that is slightly to blame, I persevered despite its lack of merit to the bitter end much akin to how Newby and his wife travelled down the Ganges. Even in the final pages I was tempted to discard this. Newby disconnects the reader from the experience by giving very little insight into if he took any significance from this journey. I expected some form of reflection towards the end but just got a detailed rundown of the Calcutta waterways instead.
They seemed to have the same experience again and again each chapter and there was little in the way of themes or portrayal of self-development. It gives a fairly detailed history of areas they travelled through but doesn't attempt to string their experiences together in anyway but the linear matter-of-fact journey.
There was one chapter about cannibals that was interesting. For that, I give the star.
October 28, 2021
Fun adventure but perhaps too much historical and technical detail for my taste - hard at times to take it all in. The upside to this is an understanding of the place, offering a snapshot of India that has probably disappeared, with development and modernisation - also incredible he was given a letter by the prime minister to ease his progress, and that he felt he could (and did) just rock up to some mansion on the way and ask to be shown around. Offered descriptions of some of the many societies within India, albeit often by quoting other Westerners' takes on them, but clearly he has a love for the place and people. Newby goes on adventures I wouldn't know how to start, so it was fun to live vicariously.
March 1, 2021
You could be forgiven for mistaking him for a non river lover despite what it says on the tin - he seems to find the whole thing a total grind from start to finish, other than one blessed life moment which is perfect & he wants it to stay still forever. Wanda too. Strange hearing the narrator doing Indian accent for the locals dialogue - a bit like black face on the radio - seems odd these days though he does Hindi well, very fluent on place names etc. Apparently this was recorded in 1960s by go blurb says this production 2019 so that may explain it.
I liked the bits where he went back to where he served in 1941 and the uprising historical details, was very glad that after initial 1,000 names of Ganga we didn't get too much of Rama, Sita & co in their various incarnations which seemed a risk.
I liked the bits where he went back to where he served in 1941 and the uprising historical details, was very glad that after initial 1,000 names of Ganga we didn't get too much of Rama, Sita & co in their various incarnations which seemed a risk.
December 3, 2022
I have had this book on my shelf at home for some time but I decided to find the audiobook and I am so glad I did as I really believe that the reading experience was so much better as there was plenty of words and phrases that were amazing pronounced and explained. So I definitely recommend reading the audiobook over the book. It was so interesting and well wrote that I actually felt like I was experiencing everything the author described. It was so close to getting 5 stars. What's more I learnt so much from reading it. I definitely can't wait to read more from this wonderful author.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 76 reviews