Customer Reviews

The Road to Oxiana

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

In the crepuscular post-September 11 world I find myself in, I thought I would go and read some of the classics of travel in the Middle East back when the going was good. Byron's OXIANA looked promising, so I curled up with it for a few enchanting days.

Byron was no lover of pre-packaged tourist sights. He begins by slurring Venice, where he begins his journey. Later, he slams the Taj Mahal and the Alhambra as examples of what he did NOT want to see in the Middle East. At first, I was not sure where the book was going: Byron comes across at first as one of those hypereducated upper class twits who pop in and out of Evelyn Waugh's novels. Fortunately, it turns out to be just one of the author's favorite personas he assumes from time to time.

Over half a century ago, he saw clearly what would happen to Palestine when the British pulled out, namely, that the Jews and Arabs would be at each other's throats. As he reaches Iran we finally begin to see what Byron is really after: He travels from one old mosque or ruin to another. Although none of places he describes in such loving detail are known to me, it was easy to see that here was a man who wanted to be one of the first to see some marvel of architecture and capture it in photographs and in prose before the forces of time would destroy it utterly.

In the process of going from place to place, he describes the Europeans and locals he meets with humor and shrewdness. The Middle East was not the easiest place to travel in the 1930s, and Byron ran into some almost insurmountable obstacles which he typically surmounts. One such is his arrival in Aghanistan's high country too late in the season. He backtracks to Persia and waits six months until he could return in the spring.

I highly recommend ROAD TO OXIANA to all who wish the world was safe and innocent enough for us to pursue our own Oxianas, wherever they may be.

I first read Byron's best travel book in 1982 whilst in the midst of an epic year long trip myself. I now have about 4 copies of the book and an original signed copy with Byron's pictures in it(which are equally brilliant as his prose).His book kindled in me a desire to see all that he had seen and to further explore Islamic architecture and archaeology. After numerous forays into the Near East and a Masters in Near Eastern and Middle Eastern cultures--I am still searching. One can't really appreciate Byron's description of the Sheikh Lutfallah Mosque in Isfahan unless you actually have been there--standing under the immense dome in subdued yellow light. I had that priviledge last year and Byron's description does justice to the magnificent structure. Byron's eye for detail is unmatched in most other travel books and his humour is endless. I had the luck to find "Four Loyalties" by his travelling companion--Christopher Sykes in a book sale in Dubai, UAE. Sykes paints a wonderful portrait of Byron. It's a pity that Byron died so young as I think he is one of the better travel writers--definitely my favourite. Unfortunately, as Bruce Chatwin pointed out in one introduction to "The Road to Oxiana" that you won't be able to drink green tea and eat mulberries under the shade of a plane tree in Istalif, Afghanistan. Those halcyon days that Byron and Sykes experienced and later by Levi and Chatwin are the stuff of legends. "The Road to Oxiana" is a good starting point. Go there now. Good reading.

In my opinion this book belongs to the aristocracy of travel literature, that old tradition beginning with Erodoto's 'Historiai'. You can see all the nuances of the sky over the islamic temples and the ancient babylonian ruins the author decribes so well, taste the flavour of the tea offered around the fire, hear the whispers in the moonlight or the loud voices of an oriental market, feel the sandy wind blowing on your face. I think no modern traveller was as able as Byron to blend together such cunning observations about society, history, landscape, art and people of the countries he travelled, without being pictoresque, or self-centered. You often feel yourself travelling with the author. Don't miss it!!!!

The Road to Oxiana was popular when it was first issued, but gradually dropped out of sight, only to be revived when Bruce Chatwin and others rediscovered it. Chatwin in particular was heavily influenced by this book. It is the story of Robert Byron's efforts to see large brick burial towers located in Persia. Or at least that it was what Byron said he was looking for. The book is more a depiction of his misadventures -- he was suspected of being a spy by most who met him, although there was no truth to this. The style of this book is highly innovative; rather than presenting a straight narrative, it is (or appears to be) a collection of diary entries, newspaper stories, anecdotes, and cultural analysis. This makes the book sound themeless, but Byron's personality holds it together. This book should be on a short list of the best travel books in the English language.

I don't understand one of your other reviewers comments that he found the book "as dry as toast". For me it was an experience that I savoured and prolonged as long as I could as I took in the descriptions of the various cities and ruins and enjoyed a very understated delivery style. I particularly enjoyed the fact that he didn't attempt to talk up his experiences but instead let his enthusiasm, especially for the architecture, appear without him having to emphasise it. Once I'd finished it I knew I wanted to go, copy in hand, to Iran for myself and see what had remained and what else had been destroyed since it was written. Both for the prose and the subject matter, this was definitely one of the best books I have read in the last five years. I'm leaving in two months to try and find my own Road to Oxiana.

How did I come to read this book? It is a period that I am interested in Central Asia history and else, because I became aware that European culture has long ignored this part of the world. I was talking with my father who has an encyclopedic knowledge on almost every topic (sic!) and he asked me if I had read this book. After a long search we found it in his library in an italian translation and a Bruce Chatwin presentation. He had read it because interested in Islamic architecture and art. This breif introduction is to underline how this book is not only a great travel book in the line of those written by foreign travelers in the 1930's, but also an original, well-documented and researched book on islamic architecture of the medieval and modern period. Actually, the author who was an amatuer historian of the arts (read his other books on Mount Athos and Byzantine art) intended this book to be a first-hand report on islamic architecture that had not been seen and described as a whole in those times at least in european countries. The english had a "great game" vision of Central Asia that consisted essentially of folklore, customs, a little history and much adventure with the fiend represented by the russians. What Byron went looking for instead was the the expression of the concept of space that had taken place in the east. He identifies the subtle transitions from roman-greek architecture to the islamic revolution, that will be successivelly reimported to Europe years later in the Romanic period. He is particularly fascinated by the arch and the dome and their evolution, and he is probably the first to identify the "iwan" as an architectural feature. As to tiles, that are the other main feature of islamic decoration, he captures the hues of the blues and turquoises, yellows and browns and the way they respond to light and mesmerizes the reader with their description.
The book can also be read on another level, that of the cultural background of its characters: Robert Bryron and Christopher Sykes, two of "the Bright Young Things" that populate Evelyn Waughs novels, the cultural elite of the London of the 1930's. What gives us still today a great "gusto" is the humor and, let's say it, the sarcasm of the outlook on life, manifested by this generation of authors. We get plunged into the life of the english abroad, the embassies, the consulates, the interplay with the other europeans (Herzfeld comes out pretty bad, with his jelousy on the discovery of Persepolis) and Asians (the afghan ambassador is unforgettable).
A book that is all this naturally becomes a classic, so no mystery as to the Bruce Chatwin's great preference. I highly reccomend it to esthetically minded virtual travelers. There is a beatiful closing remark on the Author's mother that conveys the concept of education that was true then and now!

A wonderful book: some of the best descriptions of architecture in English; comic dialogue; observations on the politics of the countries he travels through - and the sense of a robust, awkward, narrator throughout.

This wonderful account by Robert Byron of his travels through Persia and Afghanistan is spare when it should be spare: "Lifar came to dinner. Bertie mentioned that all whales have syphilis" (a complete paragraph from page 19) and effusive when it should be effusive: "Here the green resolved, not into ordinary grass, but into wild corn, barley, and oats, which accounted for that vivid fire, as of a life within the green. And among these myriad bearded alleys lived a population of flowers, buttercup and poppies, pale purple irises and dark purple campanulas, and countless others..." (from a paragraph on page 200). Never mind the country he was traveling through, I just love his prose. They are never trite, never cliché. It's almost as if when a hackneyed phrase would have done, he sought hard for something bright, fresh, new.

But don't never mind the country he explored (stony deserts, mountains, steppes, caves, rivers) or the people he encountered (generous peasants, officious police, frightened guides, accommodative local governors, obstreperous archaeologists, clueless tourists, declamatory larger than life ambassadors whose words are accompanied by appropriate dynamic markings...) - he makes them all fascinating. His dry British wit pervades much of the manuscript. And, oh, how he waxes eloquent on architecture, a subject which in the abstract seems excruciatingly boring to me, but is never so within this book, as he documents the features of mosques and mausoleums and ruined cities.

In the 30's when Byron made this trip Iran was Persia and under the autocratic rule of the Shah (AKA Marjoribanks) instead of being strangled by fundamentalist clerics. Afghanistan was a poor underdeveloped country under (what in Afghanistan passes for) the benign rule of its royal family. Now that country has been destroyed by 30 years of internal strife, war with the Soviet Union, Taliban depravity, war with the US, and more internal strife. Whatever the consequences for the peoples of these countries, the time is long gone when an English speaking traveler could make their way from Persepolis to the feet of the Hindu Kush or the Pamirs. How sad. But at least one can read Byron's book. I'd also recommend Dervla Murphy's Full Tilt: Ireland to India with a Bicycle. It's not as cerebral , but just imagine the idea of anyone, let alone (gasp) a woman, bicycling all the way from Eastern Europe, through Azerbaijan, Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan into India. That was in 1963. Wow!

In the 1930's this part of the world was far, far away from Britain and the United States. Recent events have placed these countries and people in the forefront. In some ways, Byron's experiences are not much different than those of today. Some of his observations seem quite prescient, but really just help give us a clear picture of an area that has seen a lot of history, and is the stage for more of the same today.

This is an interesting read, not only for a portrait of the lifestyle in this part of the world, but of the world-view of the pre-war British. Good travel writing often exposes more about the writer than the countries and people visited, and this book is no exception. While they are writers of different backgrounds and attitudes, this book reads a bit like those of Fermor, whose books I highly recommend.

Overall, well worth the read.

When this book was written (mid 1930's), the world appears to have been a much simpler place. Our intrepid author moved fairly freely around the Middle East, even as far as Afghanistan. It's refreshing, but sad, to note that in those days there was relative peace in that region, and folks could travel unmolested around many countries, and across many borders. Our author is interested in ancient architecture, but his caustic wit and lyrical descriptions of the people and places he met and saw make this a book out of time, but well worth reading, if only for its nostalgia quality.