Customer Reviews

The Royal Road to Romance: Travelers' Tales Classics

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As a child in Paris in the early 50's it was tough finding English-language books to read. Now and then my Dad would take me to a small library at the American embassy to check out books, and it was there he urged me to read Richard Halliburton. In my mind's eye I can still see that big thick book and the photo of Halliburton in front of the Taj Mahal.

Hardly anyone knows his name today, but in the 1930's Halliburton's name was well-known and his travel/adventure books were best sellers. My dad had read them in the depths of the Depression and they'd engendered in him a thirst for travel, which he fulfilled many times over with a career in the airline industry.

I guess the same thing happened to me when I read "The Royal Road to Romance" around 1952 and was permanently bitten by the travel bug. I was surfing around the net tonight and ran across a story on Richard Halliburton and thought I'd check to see if any of his books were still in print. I was quite surprised to see they are and people are still reading him.

Give this book to a kid with dreams, or read it yourself. Any book that sticks with you for 52 years has got to be very special.

As a young girl in the early fourties I had read my father's copy of Royal Road To Romance and wanted my grandchildren to share these wonderful adventures and travels to places we can only visit in our minds. When I couldn't find his copy I started a search of used book stores and libraries without luck. Last year a dear friend found an original edition and gave me this precious gift. I hope Royal Road To Romance is republished so I can buy copies for my children and grandchildren.

I was given this book in 1938 when I was 12. It has changed my life. Everywhere I have travelled, I have searched for adventure and romance and I have found it. During WWII in Europe, during business travel, and after retirement in trips all over the globe, retracing Halliburton's steps. Visits to the the Taj, and Petra were alive with the spirit of his words, which I carried with me on thie visits.

As israeli the book The royal road to romance, was the first english written book I ever read compleetly. Once I captured the essence of its spirit I never left it again. It set the general course of my life, proving the theory that first book a child reads will have tremendous effect on his lifes future. The simple truth of this book so shaked me that I became restless eversince. In order to release myself from its magic spell, exploded from ambitions I set myself,on 1974, on a personal Around the world trip which latter entered the Guinness book of world records (Hebrew edition) as the longest (253,934 km) around the world trip. I did it mostly by hitchiking with help of 1529 different vhicles. I did it that way in order to be, like Richard, always close to new friends and cultures. As Halliburton I spent night on top of Cheops pyramide, the Devils island and far more srange outposts than him. after climbing Mt. Fuji I felt I will never attempt such altitude again. But even than I knew his sometimes weird achivements will ever overshadow mine. Constant drive to chalange his bodis limits always frightened me. Whenever I come to an exotic place I asked myself what Richard would plot in such place? He prooved what young man can reach the seventh heaven if he funnel his sex energies to more constructive way. Especially in times when boundries was more virtual than real, and suspicion among fellow beings came always after givving help and use of humor, not before. Along my way I met other guy (one from Memphis) who traveled with Halliburtons myth as compas. We share togather ideas that the impression of that book will make it easily the Bible of our life. Today as a modern Wandering Jew with only one passport that so many contries like to refuse entry I tried to establish myself and forget traveling, but I feel that the battle is lost because in the other hand I keep folowing the conclusions of this memorable book which always lie near my bed. Whatever happened I jealouse Halliburton that unlike my bad luck he found happy publishers to have his talles get printed

Ever wanted to climb the Matterhorn? Swim in the pools of the Taj Mahal? Find the forgotten palaces of Angkor? Pirates, jungles, princesses, snakes, tigers, and native cultures obscure and forgotten - this 1920s traveler has enough adventures to amaze and delight well into the next century. As a child I found Halliburton's BOOK OF MARVELS, both the Orient and the Occident, and began my own personal quest to learn more geography and history and the adventure that goes along with it. Later, as I looked for my own copies I stumbled across this volume, and have scoured the net and bookstores for copies for friends. Absolutely delighted to see it reprinted. If ever I have the opportunity to really travel, some of Halliburton's destinations will be at the top of the list.

I first read this book as a child about 25 years ago. It was pure luck that I found "The Royal Road..." at a furniture store's going-out-of-business sale. The store was selling off books they used to decorate furniture displays. Although I'm not sure what prompted me to buy this book as a child, I am grateful to have found it. It gave me a sense of wonder about the world and a love for exotic places and peoples.

Growing up in the 70s with the war and demonstrations and Watergate, I think I felt jaded about the world from an early age. The world seemed kind of a seedy, drab and dingey place to me at the time. Every great accomplishment had already been done and every once-wonderous place on the planet had long ago been explored, commercialized...used up. Royal Road to Romance changed my world view and made me really hunger to see the wonderous, beautiful places Halliburton describes. I think there are probably many kids in this generation with similar feelings who might really benefit from this book.

Most of Halliburton's stories are happy-go-lucky tales about traveling with friends, meeting interesting and charming people, and generally making life into an adventure. They make you wish you could have been there with him. Or at least follow in his footsteps.

At the beginning of the book, Halliburton talks very eloquently about the choice he made to travel and see the wonders of the world instead of pursuing a traditional career after college. How he rebelled against what was expected of him and decided to Live and Enjoy Life while he was young. I think most people have felt the desire to run off at some point in their life -- to abandon the mundane life they are expected to lead and go where the wind leads. I know that I have felt that often, and many times, I have thought of Richard Halliburton and his thoughts and life. Although, yes, the book is dated in attitudes and much has changed in the world, I believe that people who read it can find a sense of fun and wonder they never knew they were missing.

"Name and occupation?"

"Halliburton - horizon chaser."

So self-identifies Richard Halliburton, author and protagonist of this story of glorious adventure.

One of my weaknesses as a reader is for travelogues. I read many of them, relishing the accounts of the obscure as well as the renowned. But truly, it's not my weakness so much as the genre's strength. Travel somehow turns unexceptional literary talents into Hemingways and Nabokovs; the experience of the exotic turns us all into wide-eyed children again, while simultaneously equipping us with powers of description and evocation that we never otherwise master.

I have wondered where so many great travel writers learned their craft. Having now read Halliburton, I see that his was clearly the forerunner of much of the great traveloguing of more recent decades.

Halliburton begins the story in his dorm room at Princeton, where his classmates are poring over various snooze-inducing studies. Halliburton, feeling stifled and bored, ventures outside to escape, and feels his youthful spirit calling to him in the night: "I wanted to swim in the Hellespont where Lord Byron swam, float down the Nile in a butterfly boat, make love to a pale Kashmiri maiden beside the Shalimar, dance to the castanets of Granada gypsies, commune in solitude with the moonlit Taj Mahal, hunt tigers in a Bengal jungle. . ."

And so begins an unsurpassable story of true-life adventure. Halliburton crosses the Atlantic, scales the Matterhorn, gets himself arrested on Gibraltar, wanders through the Alhambra, sleeps atop the Great Pyramid, hikes through the Himalayas, hides in the Taj Mahal at night, explores the temples of Angkor, survives a pirate attack in the South China Sea, and much more. He accomplishes all this while leading the life of a vagabond, paying his way by teaching dancing classes here, publishing articles there, sometimes not paying his way at all but rather stowing away, and charming many a new friend, sometimes of the opposite sex.

We today live in the Lonely Planet age - an age where global travel has been democratized, and there are few corners of the world that any American with a modest amount of money and a reasonable amount of determination can't easily get to. But that is not the world of Halliburton; in his time, the temples of Angkor and the Taj Mahal were fantastic conceptions that countless Americans would never witness even in a photographed image, let alone in person. Halliburton's stories thus transmit a palpable sensation of romantic adventure, fully as great as a story of space travel might today.

I would have loved this book for the travel tales alone, but what makes it a true classic in my opinion is the way that it conveys the spirit of its age - the Jazz Age. Halliburton is a high-spirited character, practically jumping from the pages of an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. The world is his oyster. He seems to move through it without fear, with the confidence emblematic of a high-spirited young America, prosperous, bemused, flexing its muscles and stretching its legs.

Even better, the book is written in a classic old sensational journalist's style, now long extinct. It rather reminded me of the writing of his contemporary Robert Ripley. They are each writers who brought the wonders of the world to the kitchen tables of Americans, splendors to be digested in the comfort of home along with their morning coffee and eggs. At a time when cinema did not yet have sound, and television did not yet exist, it's compelling to reflect on how wondrous all these stories must have seemed. This book is thus not just a travelogue, but a cultural document. I personally love the persistent tone of exhilaration and wonder, which contrasts with the jaded cynicism of so many journalists today.

There is, it must be said, a downside. Halliburton has an aspect of his personality that can only be accurately described as racist. He tells a story early on of competing with some fellow travelers in a rickshaw race, in which they find it amusing to beat their Chinese drivers to compel them to go faster. I had written that one off as a disturbing fabrication on his part, but later there were too many examples of clear racism for me to ignore. Halliburton thinks he is above riding in coach class with Indians or Japanese - even when he himself is a stowaway! At one point he strikes an Indian train conductor simply for doing his job, and tells the story later with pride rather than shame. This book will definitely help the modern reader to understand why much of the world came to resent the prosperous westerner. There is certainly some "Ugly American" in here.

So, to enjoy this book, you must be willing to compartmentalize. If you are like me, you will find it 95% fascinating, 5% deplorable. You need to be comfortable with the best aspects of the American character of the 1920s co-existing with some awful ones. If you aren't able to look past these elements, you might find yourself turning against the author and his book about two-thirds through.

Count me in the camp that loves it. I felt nine years old again while reading it, dreaming of every adventure I someday wanted to have. A window not only into the exotic travel adventures still available in the 1920s, but also into the psyche of 1920s America, and into the styling of then-popular writing. Long live the vagabond!

I have collected books from the early 1900's and late 1800's, not for money or collecting books for future gains, I truly enjoy a good tale. and If you can read any book read a book by Haliburton, he was truly a great adventurer. Sorry I am drunk off Sake, but this book is a true book of early adventre that rings out, ADVENUTRE!!@!!!!!
When I die I want this book to fuel the fire that burns my body becase it is a beautiful book. Read it and enjoy the zadventure of a man that is full of romance that has been lost to the 21st centry.

As a five year expatriate who's home will always be Memphis, I felt like I was reading the words of a long lost little brother from a prior existance. I read this book a year ago while briefly home in northwest Mississippi, as a friend of my fathers suggested it. Sure, the way he treats some of the locals make me want to pull his hair or tell him to go sit in the corner, but the "big picture" is simply that of a naive 22 year old whose eyes are in awe of the possibilities offered him and the romantic beauty of the road. Halliburton chooses instead of a deluxe trip through Europe paid for by his parents, to instead
"starve and try to carve a future of his own" (Kristofferson) and, for such, my hat is off to the kid. So many people hit the road to "say they've done it", and certainly not all but many become cynical and judgemental and when I meet these
"intellectuals" i just want to tell them to go home and leave the road for the optimists like Richard Halliburton.
A prior-poster has somewhat critisized Halliburton for returning home with the same grab-life-by-the-balls attitude that he left with. However, I feel that is the highest praise and is a hell of a lot better than returning home to share one's cynical wisdom with whoever is bored enough to sit there and nod. The road did not make Halliburton wise and old before his time but, rather, kept him naive and young after his time.
*** Incidentally, I found myself roaming the Ruins of Ankhor in Cambodia a couple months ago, and this place has Halliburton all over it. At the time I was there, I could not recall whether he had gone but, in reading some reviews, I now know why I kept thinking to myself as I climbed about the ruins "I'm sure Richard Halliburton came here! I can almost feel his presence..." I suggest this book to anyone who loves independent travel and youthful observation, but I discourage it to anyone who feels they've "seen it all"...

First, let me congratulate the publisher for reprinting this book. Until now it has been a collector's item.

In this book, young Richard Halliburton realizes his dreams by traveling around the world with very little money. I can't summarize here all the places he goes nor all the adventures he sees, but the book is a page-turner from start to finish. Halliburton climbs the Matterhorn, bums train rides in Spain, gets thrown into jail in Gibraltar, replenishes his empty wallet in Monte Carlo, narrowly escapes incineration on the Indian Ocean, comes face to face with a poisonous snake on the Malay Peninsula, and determines to climb Mount Fuji in winter despite the fact that "it couldn't be done" . . . and, in the end, comes home to Memphis and his mom and dad.

One of the previous reviewers raised troubling questions about Halliburton's place in the twenty-first century. It's true that the author loves India, and every page in which he describe his travels through that country reflects that love. It's also true that he didn't respect individual Indians in the way which we all ought to respect each other today. This is a disturbing question, but my appeal to everyone who reads this review is that people who want a period piece, a description of what it was like for a young man to travel around the world in the 1920s, read this book as a whole and decide whether or not they like it on this basis.

Halliburton wrote about India as a whole. If we read what he wrote about as a whole, Calcutta and Udaipur and Agra and everything else, we will realize that whatever his faults, he loved the country. Furthermore, I think that if you read this book as a book of history, a description of a world that no longer exists, you will like it or love it for what it is.