Innocents Abroad

I finally finished Mark Twain’s travel diary, written in 1867.   Original name Samuel Clemens, and best known for Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, Twain went on an extended tour of Europe and the Middle East, then came back to write about it.  It was his best selling work during his lifetime.

By the way, this is not his ONLY travelogue.  Roughing It covers 1861-67 but was published after Innocents.  It covers his travels in the American Wild West.  A Tramp Abroad (1880) covers travels in Germany, Switzerland, France, and Italy.  Life on the Mississippi (1883) covers… life on the Mississippi.  This guy was on a river boat, it seems.  Who knew.  Following the Equator (1897) covers… the British Empire.

The trip left from New York City, traveled across the Atlantic to the Azores, to Gibraltar, and to Marseille.  From Marseille they took the train north to Paris.

Paris, France.  He attended Napoleon III’s Exhibition which was the French Emperor’s formal unveiling, as it were, of the new Paris he and Baron Haussmann had spent the last 15 years or so renovating.  He seemed impressed with N3 but less so with the Ottoman Emperor who accompanied his French counterpart.  Mind you, the Eiffel Tower was still 20 years away (1889 exhibition). 

England, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Scandinavia?  Nope – at least not in this book.  

Italy.   Venice, Florence, Rome, Naples and Pompeii (no Pink Floyd).  Lots of art, lots of museums, etc.  He enjoyed messing with the guides by professing ignorance of Christopher Columbus.  Also, they called all the guides “Ferguson” regardless of actual name or nationality.  He did find it odd that many churches all claimed to have relics of saints, sometimes the SAME relics.  Guides tried to tell tourists what they wanted to hear – imagine that.

Greece.  The ship was quarantined off the coast at Athens.  Fortunately, at night, he and a small group succeeded at sneaking ashore to visit the Acropolis.  So his tour of Athens, as it was, ended up being a sneakfest in the dead of night. 

Russia.  He actually met Tsar Alexander II in Odessa.   Since no one in the tour group was a celebrity, aside from him, and he didn’t consider himself important enough to merit the personal attention of a reigning monarch, this impressed the hell out of him.  He had a highly favorable impression of the Tsar.

Turkey.  Constantinople, as Istanbul was called back then.  They sampled the famous Turkish baths.  Smyrna, Ephesus and other places also got the Twain Treatment.

Holy Land.  Damascus.  Jerusalem.   The biggest thing which struck Twain was how small it was.  I’ve heard Israel described as being the size of New Jersey (i.e. not that big) and sure enough everything seems close by.  For my part, I was struck at how pious and believing Twain was.  For a guy as acidic and cynical about everything, he displayed none of that on the substantive issues of Jesus, Mary, and basic tenets of Christianity.  He seemed to shine his beam of cynicism on the pilgrims who accompanied the group:  overworking the animals to make a three day journey take two days, and knocking off bits of masonry as souvenirs.  Also, the guides threatened that the local Bedouins were hostile to pilgrims, so that guards were necessary for protection, but they never seemed to be in any danger – he suspected it was overstated to spread the wealth to guards personally related or acquainted with the guides.  Twain got a major kick out of visiting all the places mentioned in the Bible – for real.  WOW.  Mind blown.  Etc. 

Egypt. The Sphinx and the Pyramids.  Remarkably similar to what I saw in Egypt on a class trip during high school (1985).  As usual the locals try to fleece the tourists.

Back home.   By way of Tanger.   By that time everyone was so burnt out they just wanted to get home again.  Nothing much would faze or impress them – least of all Twain himself. 

I read it on Kindle – itself a swindle, as despite being described as “illustrated” there were NO illustrations included; I had to observe them online. 

It took me awhile to read and wasn’t nonstop action, fun, or wit.  He stops short of being completely full of himself, so I never lost patience, but it was somewhat of a lengthy digestion, not a book to be quickly devoured over a single weekend.  Nonetheless, being personally familiar with much of the area he was covering, and vicariously familiar with the rest, I certainly enjoyed the journey. 

The most important element is – as I’ve noted – his delicious cynicism and skepticism.  He frequently quoted contemporary guide books, all of which put the places in improbably positive lights.  “I’m not sure we visited the same place,” muses Twain.  If he saw shit, he’d tell us – and not totally ignore it.  I found Bucharest (which he didn’t see) to be extremely dirty.  Hell, aside from Barra da Tijuca and some parts of Ipanema and Leblon, Rio de Janeiro is very dirty.  And I’m not even talking about the favelas.  But he has such a clever way of knocking things that it’s entertaining in its own right.  So enjoy the travel diary of a man who wasn’t afraid to tell it like it was.