This work constructs a piece of social history to convey what it was like to travel the world in the 100 years leading up to World War I. By becoming an imaginary 19th-century armchair tourist, the author discovers such dangers as alpine climbing in Switzerland and the gaming houses of Germany.
Alan Sillitoe was an English writer, one of the "Angry Young Men" of the 1950s (although he, in common with most of the other writers to whom the label was applied, had never welcomed it). For more see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alan_Sil...
Readers who are familiar with literature of the eighteenth, nineteenth and early twentieth centuries have probably heard about the Grand Tour, a kind of educational right of passage for the young and wealthy. Some readers could probably even name the titles of some of the guidebooks these travelers used to support their appreciation of the countries they happened to be visiting. E.M. Forster perhaps makes one of the most memorable accounts of their use in his novel, A Room with a View:
If you will not think me rude, we residents sometimes pity you poor tourists not a little—handed about like a parcel of goods from Venice to Florence, from Florence to Rome, living herded together in pensions or hotels, quite unconscious of anything that is outside Baedeker, their one anxiety to get 'done' or 'through' and go on somewhere else.
As shown by Forster, travel guides like Baedeker’s did not have universal appeal, especially for those who believed that such books took away from the traveler’s ability to actually see and experience the culture of the countries they visited. While there is some truth in this, as Alan Sillitoe illustrates in this work, these travel guides can also provide some fascinating insights and anecdotes, as well as some potentially useful information and tips for the inexperienced traveler.
The chapters of Sillitoe’s book focus on prominent locations for the Grand Tour, providing overviews of how various guidebooks of the time presented these locales, referencing local cultural legends, prominent landmarks, as well as informational tips concerning passports (when they should be obtained and where), how to approach customs agents (be prepared to offer a tip/gift), hygiene management (the addition of spirits into drinking water to ward off disease, warnings to stay indoors at night to avoid insects) and the like. The guidebooks are quite engaging through Sillitoe’s presentation; and it is interesting to observe how local legends change over time with the added sensational embellishments that give those original tales their legendary status. Sillitoe’s inclusion of guidebook quotes allows readers to gain insights into the conversational tone of these books, which most likely enhanced their popularity. As well, the quotes also provide strong evidence of the Victorian imperialistic ideology that was heavily present during the time…the superiority of the educated foreigner over the primitive and potentially uneducated natives and peasants of the land.
Overall, Sillitoe’s history provides an intriguing overview of nineteenth and early twentieth century guidebooks. His engaging presentation could interest any reader and perhaps encourage them to pursue a more scholarly study of the original source materials.
As some of you may know, I absolutely love travelling. And although I love travelling to faraway places, there is simply something about travelling around Europe which I simply love. Perhaps because the cultures feel so close to home and yet so different, the beautiful architectures and landscapes which, as a European, feel like they were made for me... basically I'm a Europhile. And as a non-Brit living in Britain I've grown increasingly intrigued at how us Europeans are viewed by the islanders. So when I saw Alan Sillitoe's Leading the Blind I was immediately interested. Thanks to Netgalley and Open Road Media for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Travel has been a crucial part of British culture, for the upper classes that is, since the Napoleonic wars. Once relative peace arrived in Europe, the Brits started venturing out. And for that, they needed guide books. Some of the most famous British novels, such as A Room with a View for example, not only show protagonists on these travels but even make reference to such famous guide books as Baedeker's ones. Initially this took the form of the Grand Tour in the 17th and 18th centuury, during which young heirs, and sometimes heiresses, were let loose on the Continent to soak up as much culture and learning before settling down in their country manors. Sillitoe gives his readers access to a more commercialised type of travelling, sharing excerpts from different types of guidebooks which he humorously surrounds with his own thoughts, bringing together the process of going travelling as well as different locations. I loved reading some of the thoughts Victorian Brits had about France and Spain, or how different European countries were compared.
Leading the Blind is an incredibly fun and interesting read. Those two things don't often fit together as nicely as Sillitoe makes them fit in Leading the Blind. It's a perfect holiday read, especially if you're visiting Europe, but also great for those of us who have to remain at home. I'd recommend this to people interested in social history.
I requested this book from Netgalley because I was intrigued about tourism in the nineteeth and early 20th century. And I wasn't disappointed, this well researched book details several of the popular travel guides of that period and highlights how little the vagaries of travel have changed, and yet how much it changed the world.
After the industrial revolution created an affluent middle and upper class with spending money, tourism to Europe steadily increased in the nineteenth century. Despite filthy lodgings, poor roads, and culture clashes, the popularity of traveling abroad grew, fed largely by the many travel guides published during the 1800s. I thought it was very interesting to see how the influx of tourists and travelers improved many aspects of life in Europe. Early in the 1800s there were few inns, particularly outside of the major cities. Those rest stops that were in business were usually squalid rooming houses with poor sanitation. By the end of the 1800s, the hospitality industry improved by leaps and bounds, no doubt spurred by the bad write-ups in travel guides and the lucrative competition for tourist money.
Leading The Blind is a fascinating look into the history of travel and its social impact all over the world. Great for lovers of history, geography or sociology, it will enlighten readers today as much as the original guidebooks did for the Victorians.
Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is an author’s witty compilation of some of the most interesting, bizarre, quirky or hilariously biased and outdated bits from 19th century guide books to continental Europe, with a select few parts of the Middle East thrown in for good measure. These guide books were tailored to wealthy British travelers doing trendy Grand Tours across Europe, and were full of warnings and tips for navigating the quirks of these foreign countries. Sillitoe was a connoisseur of some of the genre’s popular classics, and sifted through the volumes for some of the highlights and consolidated them in narrative form, grouped by country.
It’s very amusing to see what exactly concerned travelers – some things never change, apparently, but some are very indicative of the time. Plus lots of amusing observations and anecdotes – like how many gallons of wine are allegedly drunk in Paris in one year, what’s appropriate or not for any “ladies” traveling, and what oddities to expect from innkeepers and hotels along the well-traveled routes. Absolutely worth a read for the subtle sense of humor and a portrait of those places and their perceptions.
Advanced review copy courtesy of the publisher via Netgalley
The Grand Tour! Who can resist the call of traveling through Europe in the late 1890s? I've been lucky enough to bring several of the grand tour guidebooks referenced in this book to Project Gutenberg where they are accessible by another generation of readers. A really delightful book.