In Patagonia (Penguin Classics)

When Bruce Chatwin’s classic and offbeat travel narrative “In Patagonia” first appeared in 1977, many readers didn’t know what to think of it. Its publication coincided with my sophomore year at seminary and—boggled down with theological tomes and a recently acquired fondness for the works of John D. MacDonald--I missed the event altogether. It was to be forty years before one of my children (they are all avid readers, God bless ‘em!) brought the book to my attention. Chatwin had been working with the (London) Sunday Times Magazine when an interview with the elderly architect Eileen Gray inspired him to see the varied and desolate area that lies at the southernmost tip of South America. The rumor (not exactly true) is that Chatwin left a note for his employer that read simply, “Have gone to Patagonia.”Gone to Patagonia! How often have we on a day-dreamy kind of afternoon wanted to make the same journey? Patagonia is a region whose struggles and eccentricities are richly woven into the historical fabric of the South American continent. In modern times, Patagonia has been the refuge of scoundrels, outlaws, misfits of all kinds and individuals orphaned by time or by fate.Nicholas Shakespeare’s introduction to the book is excellent and the book itself is one you will never forget. I read it this time for pleasure but will read it again someday to unravel some of its mysteries. There are too many names and dates and places to absorb on a first encounter with “In Patagonia.”If you haven’t read it—do yourself a favor. Put aside that book that is boring you and read about this place called Patagonia which lies at the very ends of the Earth.Reminiscent of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road” and William Least-Heat Moon’s “Blue Highways,” Chatwin’s “In Patagonia” will grip you and never let you go.

I started In Patagonia a few years ago, but put it down. I did not get the point. I didn't understand its relevance until I visited Patagonia on a 32 days trip. I picked up the book again and read it in my spare time on the road along the way. Now I get it. Once you travel the path Bruce Chatwin followed, you understand that Patagonia is a unique phenomena. Its expansiveness is breathtaking. It is desolate and yet also full of beautiful wonders. His book tells its human history in short vignettes that expose an ugly reality of plutocratic rule of the British mixed with a bit of the Wild West. This book is truly a treasure!

Befitting of a genius with an active and wide-ranging mind, Bruce Chatwin has a charm and intensity that might lead you to believe he has attention deficit disorder. Drifting from one narrative thread to the next between chapters (each just a few pages long), he delves deep into the story of each person he meets, and substantiates these stories with literary and/or historical references. Though a few themes recur (e.g., the search for the lost mylodon and the story of Butch Cassidy's escape to Argentina), this is a book that is easy to put down between fragmented sections. And yet, it is still overall an enjoyable work.Travelers are far more likely to go to Patagonia to avoid people than to learn about them, but Chatwin gracefully pulls of this challenge. Selflessly, he leaves himself out of the story- though Nicholas Shakespeare's introduction notes that Chatwin had a noteable love affair and was arrested in Chile. Unfortunately, Chatwin's narrative is short on dialogue and his description of people is typically terse and short on details, which prevents characters from coming to life. However, Chatwin shows traces of poetic brilliance ("music ghosted from the piano as leaves over a headstone"), an eye for metaphor (noting that in the obscure Yaghan language the word for depression is the same as the word for a crab's vulnerable phase after sloughing off a shell), persistence (evidenced by his uncovering of the origin of the name Patagonia), and bits of dry humor ("The Indian settlements were strung out along the railway line on the principle that a drunk could always get home.").

one of my favorite books ever. unclassifiable. enigmatic and lucid and strange and beautiful. nothing like it except maybe WG Sebald.

I bought this book to get a sense of Patagonia before a planned trip. Frankly, reading it was a slog. At places the sense of continuity from chapter to chapter existed, but not always. I found myself wanting more details about the area, a la Rick Steves. Now, having taken the trip to this incredibly beautiful land, I have re-read the book. On my trip, I learned most of the omitted details, so this time I found what was written made more sense. Like reading Shakespeare or Milton is enriched by a working knowledge of the Bible, having a personal knowledge of Patagonia makes Chatwin's stories more realistic. For example, Chatwin devotes several pages to the story of Jemmy Button. He wrote that Jemmy appeared in his native attire at an event in Great Britain and cleared the room. Such a description only makes sense if you know that Jemmy's native attire was his birthday suit. Similar lack of details occurs throughout the book. Like poetry requires the reader to bring as much knowledge to the language as possible, so this book requires a knowledge of Patagonia to be fully appreciated.