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The Fearful Void
Used book, paperback, non-fiction, travel/adventure
288 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1974
About the author
Geoffrey Moorhouse
43 books14 followersGeoffrey Moorhouse, FRGS, FRSL, D.Litt, was an English journalist and author. He was born Geoffrey Heald in Bolton and took his stepfather's surname. He attended Bury Grammar School. He began writing as a journalist on the Bolton Evening News. At the age of 27, he joined the Manchester Guardian where he eventually became chief feature writer and combined writing book with journalism.
Many of his books were largely based on his travels. He was elected Fellow of the Royal Geographic Society in 1972, Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 1982, and received an honorary Doctor of Letters from the University of Warwick. His book To The Frontier won the Thomas Cook Award for the best travel book of its year in 1984. He had recently concentrated on Tudor history, with The Pilgrimage of Grace and Great Harry's Navy. He lived in a hill village in North Yorkshire. In an interview given at the University of Tuebingen in 1999, he described his approach to his writing.
All three of Moorhouse's marriages ended in divorce. He had two sons and two daughters, one of whom died of cancer in 1981. He died aged 77 of a stroke on 26 November 2009 and is survived by both sons and one daughter.
Many of his books were largely based on his travels. He was elected Fellow of the Royal Geographic Society in 1972, Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 1982, and received an honorary Doctor of Letters from the University of Warwick. His book To The Frontier won the Thomas Cook Award for the best travel book of its year in 1984. He had recently concentrated on Tudor history, with The Pilgrimage of Grace and Great Harry's Navy. He lived in a hill village in North Yorkshire. In an interview given at the University of Tuebingen in 1999, he described his approach to his writing.
All three of Moorhouse's marriages ended in divorce. He had two sons and two daughters, one of whom died of cancer in 1981. He died aged 77 of a stroke on 26 November 2009 and is survived by both sons and one daughter.
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Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
July 6, 2022
As one of the first Europeans to attempt the crossing of Northern Africa West to East, this book is perhaps better read before other, later books where other, similar journeys are undertaken.
This was 1972, and the purpose of the authors journey was fear - fear of undertaking this journey! Moorhouse doesn't portray himself as heroic, as brave or as fearless. He contemplates failure quite openly for the second half of the book, and the journey ends a little less than half way to his original goal. But it really is a journey fraught with danger, and the honesty with which the story is told makes it a gripping read, and well worth seeking out.
Really it makes the subsequent journey of Michael Asher (Two Against the Sahara: On Camelback from Nouakchott to the Nile) all the more remarkable.
This was 1972, and the purpose of the authors journey was fear - fear of undertaking this journey! Moorhouse doesn't portray himself as heroic, as brave or as fearless. He contemplates failure quite openly for the second half of the book, and the journey ends a little less than half way to his original goal. But it really is a journey fraught with danger, and the honesty with which the story is told makes it a gripping read, and well worth seeking out.
Really it makes the subsequent journey of Michael Asher (Two Against the Sahara: On Camelback from Nouakchott to the Nile) all the more remarkable.
March 5, 2021
Adventurer Moorhouse subjects himself to a camel-borne crossing of the Sahara, and the account records not just the physical difficulties, but the psychological chaos those difficulties can bring.
Riding through the southwest Sahara, Moorhouse felt, “I was a caterpillar wriggling hopefully across an eternal nothingness from which all other life had apparently been extinguished.” The country through which he rode, approaching the Ahaggar Mountains of southern Algeria, was known by Arab travelers as “the country of fear.” Moorhouse discovered why: "Thrice now, sitting in an oasis just before departure, I had experienced a deep primeval fear of the void around. Not a quaking sensation; no more than an uneasy, feathery turning of the stomach. But there, distinctly there, as a warning and as a question mark I could not ignore." (p. 118)
When Moorehouse and his guide Ould Mohammed became lost somewhere in northern Mali, dehydration quickly began to affect their minds. The two men entered a contest as to whose judgment was sane. Moorehouse eyed Ould Mohammed suspiciously: “He had eaten little for two or three days and he was badly dehydrated. He had also been riding all morning with his bald head exposed to the fierce sun ...” Repeatedly Ould Mohammed tried to turn and ride back the way they had come. Moorehouse chased him down, arguing that water must lie in the opposite direction. Suddenly Ould Mohammed flung out his arm crying, “Look, there’s the town—that thing sticking up there.” Moorehouse told him there was nothing to be seen. The guide cursed him furiously, kicked his camel and rode on, leaving Moorehouse alone. Every now and then, Ould Mohammed appeared in the distance, driving his camel one way or another. Moorehouse sat against the trunk of a thorn tree: "My mind whirled with anxiety. What on Earth was my responsibility to Ould Mohammed? Somehow I ought to have prevented him from riding back suicidally into the desert, but I couldn’t see how I could have stopped him physically. " (p. 233)
Riding through the southwest Sahara, Moorhouse felt, “I was a caterpillar wriggling hopefully across an eternal nothingness from which all other life had apparently been extinguished.” The country through which he rode, approaching the Ahaggar Mountains of southern Algeria, was known by Arab travelers as “the country of fear.” Moorhouse discovered why: "Thrice now, sitting in an oasis just before departure, I had experienced a deep primeval fear of the void around. Not a quaking sensation; no more than an uneasy, feathery turning of the stomach. But there, distinctly there, as a warning and as a question mark I could not ignore." (p. 118)
When Moorehouse and his guide Ould Mohammed became lost somewhere in northern Mali, dehydration quickly began to affect their minds. The two men entered a contest as to whose judgment was sane. Moorehouse eyed Ould Mohammed suspiciously: “He had eaten little for two or three days and he was badly dehydrated. He had also been riding all morning with his bald head exposed to the fierce sun ...” Repeatedly Ould Mohammed tried to turn and ride back the way they had come. Moorehouse chased him down, arguing that water must lie in the opposite direction. Suddenly Ould Mohammed flung out his arm crying, “Look, there’s the town—that thing sticking up there.” Moorehouse told him there was nothing to be seen. The guide cursed him furiously, kicked his camel and rode on, leaving Moorehouse alone. Every now and then, Ould Mohammed appeared in the distance, driving his camel one way or another. Moorehouse sat against the trunk of a thorn tree: "My mind whirled with anxiety. What on Earth was my responsibility to Ould Mohammed? Somehow I ought to have prevented him from riding back suicidally into the desert, but I couldn’t see how I could have stopped him physically. " (p. 233)
August 3, 2015
When I traveled in the late 1960s, people sometimes commented that I was loco, fearless. No, those scary trips just happened. Not premeditated. But, Moorhouse deliberately took on an adventure way beyond what I'd consider reasonable! Perhaps the first travel book to leave a life lasting impression. When I subsequently tried his other books, they were on a different wavelength, not compelling.
Here's that copied and pasted review from "KIRKUS REVIEW
In 1973, Geoffrey Moorhouse decided to cross the great Sahara desert alone, by camel. Not merely as one of those because-it-was-there-challenges or indurating ordeals of courage, but partly ""to explore an extremity of human experience"" and even more to overcome that ""fearful void"" -- the fear which exists in all of us whether of loss or annihilation. The first phase to Tombouctou took ten disemboweling and exhausting weeks through a wilderness of sand with not only its glaring heat but gelid cold; lice and grit everywhere; basic rations of wheat and rice and fat (and worse) and unpotable water -- dung floating on a well. After a six day stopover in Tombouctou he proceeded to the next stop with the old, incontinent Mohammed; on the last stage of the attempted crossing, he not only gets lost but runs out of water. Throughout, the attempt (which to some degree triumphs over that void) is strengthened by a recently acquired religion -- God is the point of reference -- by images in the mind's eye or memories of the past which distract him from the foot-and-saddle sore prostration. . . . There is always an audience for that singular test of courage and in any case this stunning, stirring account ascends beyond physical endurance to those higher possibilities which sustain and justify and redeem.
Here's that copied and pasted review from "KIRKUS REVIEW
In 1973, Geoffrey Moorhouse decided to cross the great Sahara desert alone, by camel. Not merely as one of those because-it-was-there-challenges or indurating ordeals of courage, but partly ""to explore an extremity of human experience"" and even more to overcome that ""fearful void"" -- the fear which exists in all of us whether of loss or annihilation. The first phase to Tombouctou took ten disemboweling and exhausting weeks through a wilderness of sand with not only its glaring heat but gelid cold; lice and grit everywhere; basic rations of wheat and rice and fat (and worse) and unpotable water -- dung floating on a well. After a six day stopover in Tombouctou he proceeded to the next stop with the old, incontinent Mohammed; on the last stage of the attempted crossing, he not only gets lost but runs out of water. Throughout, the attempt (which to some degree triumphs over that void) is strengthened by a recently acquired religion -- God is the point of reference -- by images in the mind's eye or memories of the past which distract him from the foot-and-saddle sore prostration. . . . There is always an audience for that singular test of courage and in any case this stunning, stirring account ascends beyond physical endurance to those higher possibilities which sustain and justify and redeem.
October 3, 2016
Four months crossing half the Sahara on a camel, and all Moorhouse saw and heard was himself. Somehow, he managed to emerge from the experience with all his prejudices and preconceptions miraculously unscathed.
December 18, 2012
Brilliant!
January 9, 2015
An immersive experience. Brilliant armchair travelling with vicarious thrills from Moorhouse's mad adventure.
January 28, 2022
Sometimes, the books that describe failures are more interesting than the successes. Geoffrey Moorhouse in The Fearful Void describes a trip from Nouakchott in Mauretania across the Sahara, hopefully ending in Egypt on the Nile. Except that he doesn't make it. We are not talking about a large expedition using a convoy of Land Rovers, but a single Englishman accompanied by one or two local guides on camels. In the end, he gets only halfway to the Nile, ending at Tamanrasset in Algeria. And he barely makes it that far:
Yet his book is really excellent and deserves to be read. Ultimately, we learn far more from our failures than from our victories, and Moorhouse's journey was not something that I would have undertaken even when I was young and in relatively good shape.
I had, at last, discovered beauty in the desert. It was around me now, the familiar beauty of mountains. But all I could feel was agony, suffering, pain, mindlessness, endlessness, futility. Under the dreadful, drilling heat of this appalling sun I had become an automaton that marched. I was scarcely recognizable as a human being, with the responses that alone distinguished us from the animals. I wondered whether I had forfeited a little of my soul to the desert—maybe the greater part of it.Not all of the author's guides were honest or even capable, and long stretches were without water holes. Two of his camels died of exhaustion or starvation.
Yet his book is really excellent and deserves to be read. Ultimately, we learn far more from our failures than from our victories, and Moorhouse's journey was not something that I would have undertaken even when I was young and in relatively good shape.
May 30, 2020
I have seriously never been so glad to finish a book. I had to force myself through it. 286 pages of this guy riding a camel through the desert. I fell asleep every time I started reading it.
June 1, 2008
To really enjoy a travel/journey book, the author must either remain solely a keen observer about the culture or must reveal enough intimately personal details to interest the reader. What would entice a man to travel across the Sahara in the modern age (well, the 70s) was never explicitly explained. The writing was fraught with bulky words, at once charming and ostentatious. However amusing the author's personality conflict with the main cohort was, it smacked of colonialism at its worst.
October 27, 2015
Interesting read of Moorhouse enduring extreme hardship and loneliness during an impossible attempt to journey across the Sahara by camel. An interesting insight into cultural differences and into what it truly feels like to be an outsider.
February 15, 2020
This book has been on my mother's bookshelves as long as I can remember, and this Christmas I finally picked it up. As a geographer, environmentalist, and introspective person, I found a great deal to chew on. The book is part travelogue, part self-discovery.
The descriptions of the various forms the desert takes were breathtaking. They convey not only the look of the landscape but also the physical and mental challenges of existing in it without "modern" conveniences might take. In addition to the landscape are the personal interactions, and the fundamental necessity and simultaneous challenges of relying on other humans. His experience of his final arrival at Tamanrasset, re-emerging into civilization, starkly highlights the divide between the requirements survival and the frivolous nature of much of what we consider civilization.
I really wish I knew more about how the experience shaped the rest of his life, for it seems to flay him to his soul. Yet looking him up on the internet, he proceeded to write many more books on a wide variety of topics before dying at 77 in 2009.
The descriptions of the various forms the desert takes were breathtaking. They convey not only the look of the landscape but also the physical and mental challenges of existing in it without "modern" conveniences might take. In addition to the landscape are the personal interactions, and the fundamental necessity and simultaneous challenges of relying on other humans. His experience of his final arrival at Tamanrasset, re-emerging into civilization, starkly highlights the divide between the requirements survival and the frivolous nature of much of what we consider civilization.
I really wish I knew more about how the experience shaped the rest of his life, for it seems to flay him to his soul. Yet looking him up on the internet, he proceeded to write many more books on a wide variety of topics before dying at 77 in 2009.
March 7, 2013
A refreshing read. Many autobiographical exploration/adventure books depict the author as a brave soul who faces hardship (and even death) without fear. This was not one of those books.
Instead of encouraging us to marvel at his heroism, the author invites us to experience what it's really like to undertake such an adventure - the constant worry of having enough food and water; the day-to-day agony of dealing with lice, sores and chafing; and issues of trust with those he's hired to accompany him. In doing all of this, he exposes his vulnerability and highlights some of his character flaws.
I've never had an adventure approaching the scale of Moorhouse's, but have found myself in remote areas in a precarious position, missing my family and wondering "what the hell am I doing here?" I've never been able to articulate the answer well. It would be nice for Moorhouse to have given it a try.
Instead of encouraging us to marvel at his heroism, the author invites us to experience what it's really like to undertake such an adventure - the constant worry of having enough food and water; the day-to-day agony of dealing with lice, sores and chafing; and issues of trust with those he's hired to accompany him. In doing all of this, he exposes his vulnerability and highlights some of his character flaws.
I've never had an adventure approaching the scale of Moorhouse's, but have found myself in remote areas in a precarious position, missing my family and wondering "what the hell am I doing here?" I've never been able to articulate the answer well. It would be nice for Moorhouse to have given it a try.
May 18, 2020
I loved this book because it so accurately expressed much of what I felt and yearned for when I lived in a desert village in northern Sudan for a year. This book is brilliantly descriptive, offering long, reflective passages — best read slowly — on what were surely equally long, reflective, and slowly accomplished crossings of empty and yet powerfully impressive landscapes. This book took me back to Sudan. But what I found equally engaging was Moorhouse’s honesty and introspection about his insecurities, and the challenges he had with his guide, who was from a radically different culture than his own. All of that is a typical of a cross-cultural experience in such an extreme environment like this, and it’s what made the story of his journey as interesting to me as the beautiful lands Moorhouse traveled through.
December 17, 2017
Very surprised to discover this corny-looking solo travelogue has quite fine, lively, zippy prose writing. Much better than I expected. There are so many other titles of this same ilk, which do not measure up. But this hum-drum, staid Brit bobs peppily along with spirit and verve. He gets really, really detailed as to every little nuance of the trip. It winds up being one of the best and most graphic accounts of daily life among deep-desert dwelling arab muslims you could ask for. Food--bathroom habits--cleanliness--dress--water--sex--camel handling. The mindset of nomads: opportunistic and duplicitous; warm and embracing; suspicious and treacherous; lusty and chauvinistic. It's a fun, fun reading experience, no doubt about it.
March 11, 2023
Geoffrey Moorhouse wanted to face his deepest, primeval fears by crossing the Sahara desert on camel-back accompanied only by a native guide. Without question, he accomplished this. In the process, he found insights with spiritual sustenance, but they came to him slowly, through a haze of suffering that nearly killed him.
THE STORY OF AN ORDEAL
Mr. Moorhouse was a journalist of some note (he died in 2009) when he decided, in 1971 at the age of 40, to cross the Sahara Desert from Nouakchott in Mauritania on the Atlantic Ocean, to Luxor on the Nile River in Egypt. In the opening pages of The Fearful Void, his account of his journey, he describes his motivation:
I would use this journey to examine the bases of my fear, to observe in the closet possible proximity how a human being copes with his most fundamental funk.
Once decided to do this thing, he began studying the records of previous explorers who had accomplished the crossing (de Foucauld and Tielhard de Chardin) and in consulting with a couple who were still living (Wilfred Thesiger and Theodore Monod). He spent time learning the dominant Arabic dialect (Hassaniya) of the region he would cross. Then he bid goodbye to his wife, girlfriend, and children in England to begin his pilgrimage at winter’s onset in 1972 (because in the summer it would be impossible to travel by camel).
Once in Africa, he began preparations for an October start, but had to delay until the end of the Ramadan celebration (because guides would not work until that Islamic holiday was over). In the meantime, he lived among the nomads in Mauritania, learning their ways and how to handle and ride camels. Then in November, when Ramadan was done, he borrowed camels and hired his first guide, and started out from the oasis of Chinguetti.
Mr. Moorhouse recounts his journey chronologically, though the included pictures are only approximately so. The journey very soon becomes grueling for him. Not only because of the heat, cold, and general hardships of the desert, but also from the sometimes annoying and incomprehensible attitudes of the nomads (including his guides). At least some of this hardship was part of the “fish out of water” aspect of a European in Arabic Africa. He knew enough of their language to communicate, though he was ridiculed at times for his lack of linguistic command. But he seems to have quickly become adept enough at camel-handling to need little coaching.
The first part of his journey was reaching Timbuktu (spelled properly in the text as “Tombouctou”). By that time, he was physically suffering and ready to give it up. Timbuktu refreshed him, however, and he continued. The second part of his journey was far worse. He encountered bureaucratic delays, threats from bandits and military, lice, blisters, dysentery, conning from his guides, and the death of three camels. Very often, only thoughts of his family in England sustained him.
He ended up going only half as far as he had intended. Journey’s end for him was late February 1973 at the big oasis town of Tamanrasset in Algeria (rather than Luxor, Egypt). Still, that was two thousand miles of incredibly grueling terrain. By the book’s end, I was amazed that he made it as far as he did.
LEARNING THROUGH TRYING AND SUFFERING
I love pilgrimage stories where the protagonist undertakes an ordeal in search of enlightenment (usually these are “journey” stories such as walking the Camino or hiking the Pacific Crest Trail). That element is definitely here, but is expressed as a story of survival--physically and mentally. Mr. Moorhouse’s slant is how his insights were mitigated by the pain incurred in obtaining them.
Where The Fearful Void also shines is in its elegant prose. Mr. Moorhouse’s account is factual and straightforward, but with nuance and layers evoked as well as in any novel. The narrative is compelling and driving. The author is presented as the protagonist fighting extreme hardships and complications to reach his goal. The narrative never dragged for me and my interest never waned.
Most interesting also is Mr. Moorhouse’s relationship to the people and society of the region. He bounces between hating and loving both. In trying to “fit in with” the nomads, his Western upbringing often clashed with their culture. He stood out as European (“Nasrani” in the local dialect) even as he dressed and ate like the nomads. His attempt to “blend in” resulted in revulsion for their food, their clothing, and the harsh aspects of their culture. It seems to me that he would not have lost anything by retaining his Western clothes and food as much as he could.
But then there are passages where he is moved by the native’s kindnesses, rescued by them, becoming acclimated to their food, and admiring their physical toughness along with their devotion to their religion (Islam). In a nutshell, he found the good, bad, and nuttiness among the nomads as is found among people everywhere.
In reading The Fearful Void, I had little doubt of the author’s intelligence and erudition. For example, the distractions he brought with him for his journey included classic books and a chess set that facilitated his playing out matches in his mind. Such a mind launches easily into introspection, and Mr. Moorhouse does so with elegance. But it is not a contrived elegance. He tells of his journey as he experienced it, with all the inspirations and horrors.
WELL-WRITTEN AND HONEST ACCOUNT
I very much liked Mr. Moorhouse’s narrative prose and the linear structure of his story. His ruminations and his frankness regarding his sufferings lent an insightful reality to his. The narrative was engrossing; the maps and pictures interesting and helpful.
Some readers may not care for the starkness of his descriptions of death, fear, and deprivation. Even the beauty he found was mitigated by pain. So be aware that Mr. Moorhouse’s story is not one of saccharine feel-goodness about an interesting trip. It does contain enlightening inspiration, but the reader must expend some effort to see it.
A POWERFUL NEW FAVORITE
I have added The Fearful Void to my canon of favorite “pilgrimage” stories. Though its graphic depiction of Mr. Moorhead’s suffering threatens to overshadow its inspiration at points, it remains a powerful account of the cost in pain of learning from an ordeal.
THE STORY OF AN ORDEAL
Mr. Moorhouse was a journalist of some note (he died in 2009) when he decided, in 1971 at the age of 40, to cross the Sahara Desert from Nouakchott in Mauritania on the Atlantic Ocean, to Luxor on the Nile River in Egypt. In the opening pages of The Fearful Void, his account of his journey, he describes his motivation:
I would use this journey to examine the bases of my fear, to observe in the closet possible proximity how a human being copes with his most fundamental funk.
Once decided to do this thing, he began studying the records of previous explorers who had accomplished the crossing (de Foucauld and Tielhard de Chardin) and in consulting with a couple who were still living (Wilfred Thesiger and Theodore Monod). He spent time learning the dominant Arabic dialect (Hassaniya) of the region he would cross. Then he bid goodbye to his wife, girlfriend, and children in England to begin his pilgrimage at winter’s onset in 1972 (because in the summer it would be impossible to travel by camel).
Once in Africa, he began preparations for an October start, but had to delay until the end of the Ramadan celebration (because guides would not work until that Islamic holiday was over). In the meantime, he lived among the nomads in Mauritania, learning their ways and how to handle and ride camels. Then in November, when Ramadan was done, he borrowed camels and hired his first guide, and started out from the oasis of Chinguetti.
Mr. Moorhouse recounts his journey chronologically, though the included pictures are only approximately so. The journey very soon becomes grueling for him. Not only because of the heat, cold, and general hardships of the desert, but also from the sometimes annoying and incomprehensible attitudes of the nomads (including his guides). At least some of this hardship was part of the “fish out of water” aspect of a European in Arabic Africa. He knew enough of their language to communicate, though he was ridiculed at times for his lack of linguistic command. But he seems to have quickly become adept enough at camel-handling to need little coaching.
The first part of his journey was reaching Timbuktu (spelled properly in the text as “Tombouctou”). By that time, he was physically suffering and ready to give it up. Timbuktu refreshed him, however, and he continued. The second part of his journey was far worse. He encountered bureaucratic delays, threats from bandits and military, lice, blisters, dysentery, conning from his guides, and the death of three camels. Very often, only thoughts of his family in England sustained him.
He ended up going only half as far as he had intended. Journey’s end for him was late February 1973 at the big oasis town of Tamanrasset in Algeria (rather than Luxor, Egypt). Still, that was two thousand miles of incredibly grueling terrain. By the book’s end, I was amazed that he made it as far as he did.
LEARNING THROUGH TRYING AND SUFFERING
I love pilgrimage stories where the protagonist undertakes an ordeal in search of enlightenment (usually these are “journey” stories such as walking the Camino or hiking the Pacific Crest Trail). That element is definitely here, but is expressed as a story of survival--physically and mentally. Mr. Moorhouse’s slant is how his insights were mitigated by the pain incurred in obtaining them.
Where The Fearful Void also shines is in its elegant prose. Mr. Moorhouse’s account is factual and straightforward, but with nuance and layers evoked as well as in any novel. The narrative is compelling and driving. The author is presented as the protagonist fighting extreme hardships and complications to reach his goal. The narrative never dragged for me and my interest never waned.
Most interesting also is Mr. Moorhouse’s relationship to the people and society of the region. He bounces between hating and loving both. In trying to “fit in with” the nomads, his Western upbringing often clashed with their culture. He stood out as European (“Nasrani” in the local dialect) even as he dressed and ate like the nomads. His attempt to “blend in” resulted in revulsion for their food, their clothing, and the harsh aspects of their culture. It seems to me that he would not have lost anything by retaining his Western clothes and food as much as he could.
But then there are passages where he is moved by the native’s kindnesses, rescued by them, becoming acclimated to their food, and admiring their physical toughness along with their devotion to their religion (Islam). In a nutshell, he found the good, bad, and nuttiness among the nomads as is found among people everywhere.
In reading The Fearful Void, I had little doubt of the author’s intelligence and erudition. For example, the distractions he brought with him for his journey included classic books and a chess set that facilitated his playing out matches in his mind. Such a mind launches easily into introspection, and Mr. Moorhouse does so with elegance. But it is not a contrived elegance. He tells of his journey as he experienced it, with all the inspirations and horrors.
WELL-WRITTEN AND HONEST ACCOUNT
I very much liked Mr. Moorhouse’s narrative prose and the linear structure of his story. His ruminations and his frankness regarding his sufferings lent an insightful reality to his. The narrative was engrossing; the maps and pictures interesting and helpful.
Some readers may not care for the starkness of his descriptions of death, fear, and deprivation. Even the beauty he found was mitigated by pain. So be aware that Mr. Moorhouse’s story is not one of saccharine feel-goodness about an interesting trip. It does contain enlightening inspiration, but the reader must expend some effort to see it.
A POWERFUL NEW FAVORITE
I have added The Fearful Void to my canon of favorite “pilgrimage” stories. Though its graphic depiction of Mr. Moorhead’s suffering threatens to overshadow its inspiration at points, it remains a powerful account of the cost in pain of learning from an ordeal.
November 16, 2020
In case I ever had the fantasy - even for a minute - of traveling across Mali to Egypt - this book made me realize that I didn't want to do 5 minutes of that journey! This is a compelling account of Moorhouse's journey by camel and foot across Mali, ending miles from his original goal. His descriptive prose definitely gives a feel for every bit of discomfort and fear. He is open about how difficult his relationships were with his guides, how hard it was for him to need to depend on these men for his life, men with whom he had little ability to communicate. Learned a lot about camels, and sand.
June 26, 2009
So, then. Let's ask ourselves: crossing the Sahara alone by camel to Timbuktu--- doable, but...well...why? There's no sane answer, but then...should there be one? An insane project, but an engrossing travel book. Moorhouse at least did his research--- lessons in sextant-and-compass navigation, Arabic lessons at SOAS, even camel-riding lessons. And he wrote an account that's good enough to make me thrilled with the idea of a solo camel trek to Timbuktu while still letting me know that I don't ever need to do it in the flesh.
February 4, 2015
great detail of desert travel experience, some nice insight. an honest and somewhat outdated outsider's perspective of desert culture. still, some valuable resource for experience.
November 16, 2025
In 1972 Geoffrey Moorhouse’s plan was to travel overland from the Atlantic coast on the west coast of Africa to the Nile River at Luxor. He made it as far as Tamanrasset in Algeria – less than halfway. Given the circumstances, many a traveller would not have made it thus far. The account of this journey is suitably titled The Fearful Void. The paperwork – travel documents, the Arab guides, camels and the climate and topography, made the journey frustrating as well as extremely arduous – and painful. However, Moorhouse manages to maintain a self-effacing tone throughout the narrative. There is humour: mounting a camel, the Arab cuisine. More so than other desert travellers, Moorhouse, writes about his state of mind – including reminiscing about his home life in Great Britain. There are references from the Forest of Arden and Treasure Island to the movie The Last Picture Show. Of the three Arab guides he employs two give him trouble and one – the last one – on parting after they had experienced life-threatening situations – “we hugged each other farewell, impulsively. It was the first time we had touched, and there was much warmth in our embrace.” Inshallah.
February 3, 2023
I've read a few of Moorhouse's travel fiction books now, and each one is a sublime exploration of a land I have never seen but desperately want now to explore. In 'The Fearful Void' Moorhouse travels by camel through the Sahara of Mauritania, Mali, and Southern Algeria, all in an attempt to rid himself of the fear that he feels is welling up inside. His ultimate goal is the Nile, though soon he learns that he has zero chance of attaining the river. However, it does not matter - in terms of the literary output - that he cannot reach his target; the book that results from his (mis)adventures should rightly be considered one of the treasures of literature, and it is only a shame and a pity that his work is now known more to the minority than the masses.
March 16, 2022
One quarter star. Terrible book. No wonder it is a Reader's Digest Condensed Book. Moorhouse does the trip to test himself but frankly if I hadn't read this book I wouldn't have known about it. Locals rip him off at every turn, Africa is portrayed as a flea ridden s**thole and he goes on constantly about his marriage back home. Yes so why aren't you there??? My conclusion: There is no quality control in RDCB.
April 18, 2026
Moorhouse tries to be the first person to cross the Sahara from West to East.
It's a dry book full of camels, that regularly die, and the desperate feeling of thirst beyond anything almost any of us will ever have experienced.
Moorhouse is accompanied by paid helpers, some ignorant, some rapacious, some wise.
By the end he is gaunt and the Sahara has shown him that wild ambitions are for fools.
It's a dry book full of camels, that regularly die, and the desperate feeling of thirst beyond anything almost any of us will ever have experienced.
Moorhouse is accompanied by paid helpers, some ignorant, some rapacious, some wise.
By the end he is gaunt and the Sahara has shown him that wild ambitions are for fools.
Read
July 7, 2022I read 170 of the 286 pages. That was enough to get the gist.
August 10, 2022
This book seems hard to find nowadays, but it's a great true adventure story.
February 4, 2023
Evocative desert frustration
February 23, 2025
I would love to rate this higher, the physical struggles and mental battles one goes through for a real adventure of a lifetime kept me reading. But this book just didn't really do it for me.
March 31, 2025
Pretty good for a gimmick travelogue
Read
October 13, 2017Finally finished reading this after purchasing several years ago. The desert is a very harsh environment to attempt crossing. It was fascinating to read about his experiences. A braver person than I would be. But I do love the desert having taken the lazy tourist was to go out in the deserts in Egypt.
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