Customer Reviews

The Kingdom by the Sea: A Journey Around the Coast of Great Britain

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

While many would find this book and it's author depressing, it very accurately describes Great Britain at the beginning of the 1980's. It appears drab because it was. This is not the same England of the 1990's because the country has changed radically since 1980. It is important to remember that this time was the nadir of a slump that began after WWII ended. The air of pessimism and drearyness has now been replaced with unbridled sophistication and optimism. The people are still eccentric and uniquely English but probably a lot better off. For anyone who is English (I am), this book is hysterial, poignant and above all an extremely accurate description of a time and a place. Buy it if you want to avoid the cliches of british life.

When the car radio/player went dead on my journey through Britain, Scotland, my companion and I opted to read aloud this brilliant book during fog stops. I purchased it along with a slew of walking tours and B&B guides not knowing what a jewel we had found. We laughed so hard and paused stopped by something profound hitting us right in the gut - This man is so intelligent and observant, most people would likely miss the world for photos, postcards and tshirts. As we'd approach a new town or village, we did with his keen eye ringing in our ears. After Scotland, we flew to Ireland and rented a car and didn't even bother to see if the radio worked. I'd wave the book and shriek, "he's right! he's soooo right!" - especially where he spoke of the punks riding the train to Margate. Jeez...Mr. Theroux picks through the social garbage of a country and finds the key to its heart, even if partially troubled.

This aspects of culture or personality can be "hard to read" or not pleasant or downright insane- he points this out beautifully. There is the great animal sadness to be found in those enigmatic places, especially for the traveler with his bag and notebook - connecting to our times - our own particular darknesses - Mr. Theroux is especially sensitive to this - next to Evelyn Waugh and all those greats, he's one of my favorite writer-writers. He's one of those writers you want to call up and thank.

I suppose this is a well-written, factual book and all that. The problem is with Paul Theroux. Number one, he has perversely chosen a "no sights" itinerary around Britain (i.e. no churches, museums, castles, or anything interesting), which leaves him little to do but tramp around and eavesdrop on people. Number two, he likes making sweeping statements about the British -- how they are class-bound, tradition-bound, negative, passive, stodgy, backward-looking and just all-round cretinous. He is looking for these traits, and of course he sees them in everyone he (briefly) meets.

The odd thing is that Theroux does not fit his own stereotype of the brash, positive, outgoing American. He doesn't like working-class people, and dismisses them by giving them silly names and labelling them "typically British." You can sense his relief when he gets to mingle with fellow artists and writers like Jan Morris. In his negative, class-conscious way, perhaps he is more "British" than he would care to admit.

So anyway, if sneering voyeurism is your thing, then maybe this book is for you.

Engrossing and amusing travelogue by world's crankiest traveler.

Some people really hate Theroux, accusing him of snobbery, self importance, and bigotry. I can certainly see why some readers wouldn't be able to deal with his style and opinions, but I must say that this volume might be a pretty good litmus test of readers' tolerance for the author's travel works. (If you can enjoy this one, you'll probably enjoy his other non-fiction works).

I, for one, totally enjoyed hearing about grunge-y has-been towns, obnoxious holiday camps, and seedy hotels. To me, the book was a real page-turner, and he writes so vividly of scenery. I felt he wrote about the worst bits of his trip with true humor, reminding us travelers that it's helpful to keep a sense of humor during the rough times.

I felt the book was a pretty decent scouting report for the island's shoreline, and I now know what to avoid there. I can definitely thank Theroux and his fussy standards!

If you like Theroux, it's a good bet you'll love this one.

People who read Theroux and then complain about how he's cranky are sort of like people who read Faulkner and then complain he's longwinded and a little confusing. Theroux is a dyspepetic grumbler who intentionally makes himself as miserable as possible while traveling, not only because he's probably clinically depressed but also because books about things going wrong are incredibly more interesting than books about things going right. Theroux was also traveling through Britain during a period in which the country was indeed a rather dingy place.

I found this book enjoyable but ultimately more evanescent than Theroux's other works. Although he occasionally trudges through one of the more remote (and by default more engaging) parts of Britain which pique the reader's interest, most of the book is taken up by a repetitive series of trailer parks, artillery ranges and commentary on the Falklands War. All in all, though, I'd rather read Theroux's travel guide than Lonely Planet's.

The best book to read before your trip to Britain! On your first trip or your 50th, this book will provide fascinating insights into the people, land, and culture that you won't get in any travel guide. Read it before your 1st trip to Britain and you'll find yourself thinking back to it again and again. You'll recognize little things in Britain that would otherwise be a mystery or go unnoticed (like "caravans" and "promenades"). Once you've been to Britain, you'll laugh out loud at the incredibly accurate descriptions of the people, their language and out-look on life. Even the bleaker portraits of the run-down coastal towns and old mining villages are fair, accurate, and will make you appreciate this island even more - for its depth, complexity and tenacity.

If you've never been to Britain, you'll feel like you've been there after reading this book. If you've been, you'll see it in a whole new way.

I thought that his insights into the British character were hysterically funny. After having lived in the UK for a year, even more so. However, his descriptions of the scenery were disappointing. For example, he spent 2 pages on the caravan parks on the Welsh coast but only spent one sentence on the beauty of Cader Idris. He seemed definitly focused on the negative aspects that any trip would entail. Unfortunatly, he did not present a very endearing picture of one of the most beautiful coastlines in the world. Yet, in some parts, the beauty of the landscape did seep through regardless of his belly aching. An interesting read whether you come out hating it or loving it.

People who moan about how dismal the author makes Britain look obviously aren't acquainted with the UK of the early 80's. It was a dump!! If you want someone cooing over scones or gurgling with rapture over English gardens look elsewhere. 1982 Britain was grey, dreary, and poor. The book captures the essence of Britain at the time.

Stereotypes may often be quite cruel, but they also may hold kernels of truth that are quite funny if we can laugh at ourselves. Paul Theroux's The Kingdom by the Sea affectionately recounts his experiences with the wonderful and slightly eccentric subjects of the British Isles.

Theroux had lived for years in London, but he had never really got out into the countryside to meet the "real" people. So he decided to walk the coastline starting in Margate and then going clockwise on the map along the edges of England, Wales and Scotland (with a brief foray into Northern Ireland)and winding up back in London. It was 1982, and the prime subject of conversation in the pubs, B&Bs, and on television was the invasion of the Falklands by the "dastardly" Argentines.

Theroux observes the raucous behavior of leatherclad and shaved-head youths on the train to Margate, and how most of the other passengers studiously ignore them. He notices that ! ! the average Britons are so excessively polite that they are the only people in the world who say "sorry" to you if you step on their toes. Theroux doesn't know quite what to make of this, but he begins to wonder if British shyness and reserve may be rooted in depression. Every where he goes, people seem to be depressed. They probably have plenty reasons to be depressed, but getting them to tell the reasons is next to impossible. Instead, the wry, ironic wit that has become a stereotype of the British keeps showing up. The love of "small passions" and the sublimely ridiculous are apparent from the thousands of lined-up "chalets" on the shore to the shabby "holiday camps."

Although, Paul Theroux can come across as crabby, he is wonderfully observant, and you get the feeling that he is not only vastly amused by the British "national character," he has great affection for the people.

Although this book is fascinating and readable, it is a downer. It is hard to escape the impression that Theroux was in very low spirits when he made this journey.

Brighton was "full of disappointed and bad-tempered visitors;" Bognor "was empty; they could look awful when they were empty." The Butlin's holiday camps "had the feel of a concentration camp."

Over and over again he will describe a town as looking lovely from a distance, then dreary when he gets to it. "All these villages looked better from the water."

And in one startling piece of ambivalence, he says at one point "I always felt I was safe--everything would be fine--if I stayed on the coast." Yet just a few pages later, he remarks: "I was the only person on this stretch of beach. It was deserted and full of cracks and corners, another of the places where I expected to find a corpse, a murder victim, a suicide, or more likely someone who had been accidentally drowned and washed ashore. I had never had this spooky feeling in a wild country, in Asia or Africa, but on the British coast, whenever I was in a lonely place, I looked down and expected to see a dead man."

Theroux takes you on an interesting trip, but he is an awfully crabby companion.