Product Description

The bestselling author of The Sex Lives of Cannibals returns with a sharply observed, hilarious account of his adventures in China—a complex, fascinating country with enough dangers and delicacies to keep him, and readers, endlessly entertained.

Maarten Troost has charmed legions of readers with his laugh-out-loud tales of wandering the remote islands of the South Pacific. When the travel bug hit again, he decided to go big-time, taking on the world’s most populous and intriguing nation. In Lost on Planet China, Troost escorts readers on a rollicking journey through the new beating heart of the modern world, from the megalopolises of Beijing and Shanghai to the Gobi Desert and the hinterlands of Tibet.

Lost on Planet China finds Troost dodging deadly drivers in Shanghai; eating Yak in Tibet; deciphering restaurant menus (offering local favorites such as Cattle Penis with Garlic); visiting with Chairman Mao (still dead, very orange); and hiking (with 80,000 other people) up Tai Shan, China’s most revered mountain. But in addition to his trademark gonzo adventures, the book also delivers a telling look at a vast and complex country on the brink of transformation that will soon shape the way we all work, live, and think. As Troost shows, while we may be familiar with Yao Ming or dim sum or the cheap, plastic products that line the shelves of every store, the real China remains a world—indeed, a planet--unto itself.

Maarten Troost brings China to life as you’ve never seen it before, and his insightful, rip-roaringly funny narrative proves that once again he is one of the most entertaining and insightful armchair travel companions around.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #326739 in Books
• Published on: 2008-07-08
• Released on: 2008-07-08
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 400 pages

Amazon.com Review
Amazon Best of the Month, July 2008: Maarten Troost is a laowai (foreigner) in the Middle Kingdom, ill-equipped with a sliver of Mandarin, questing to discover the "essential Chineseness" of an ancient and often mystifying land. What he finds is a country with its feet suctioned in the clay of traditional culture and a head straining into the polluted stratosphere of unencumbered capitalism, where cyclopean portraits of Chairman Mao (largely perceived as mostly good, except for that nasty bit toward the end) spoon comfortably with Hong Kong's embrace of rat-race modernity. From Beijing and its blitzes of flying phlegm--and girls who lend new meaning to "Chinese take-out"--to the legendary valley of Shangri-La (as officially designated by the Party), Troost learns that his very survival may hinge on his underdeveloped haggling skills and a willingness to deploy Rollerball-grade elbows over a seat on a train. Featuring visits to Mao's George Hamiltonian corpse and a rural market offering Siberian Tiger paw, cobra hearts, and scorpion kebabs (in the food section), Lost on Planet China is a funny and engrossing trip across a nation that increasingly demands the world's attention. --Jon Foro

Maarten Troost's Travel Tips for China

1. Food can be classified as meat, poultry, grain, fish, fruit, vegetable and Chinese. Embrace the Chinese. If you love it, it will love you back. True, you may find yourself perplexed by what resides on your plate. You may even be appalled. The Chinese have an expression: We eat everything with four legs except the table, and anything with two legs except the person. They mean it too. And so you may find yourself in a restaurant in Guangzhou contemplating the spicy cow veins; or the yak dumplings in Lhasa, or the grilled frog in Shanghai, or the donkey hotpot in the Hexi Corridor, or the live squid on the island of Putuoshan. And you may not know, exactly, what it is you’re supposed to do. Should you pluck at this with your chopsticks? The meal may seem so very strange. True, you may be comfortable eating a cow, or a pig, or a chicken, yet when confronted with a yak or a swan or a cat, you do not reflexively think of sauces and marinades. The Chinese do however. And so you should eat whatever skips across your table. It is here where you can experience the complexity of China. And you will be rewarded. Very often, it is exceptionally good. And when it is not, it is undoubtedly interesting. And really, when traveling what more can one ask for. So go on. Eat as the locals do. However, should you find yourself confronted with a heaping platter of Cattle Penis with Garlic, you’re on your own.

2. To really see China, go to the market. Any market will do. This is where China lives and breathes. It is here where you will find the sights, sounds and smells of China. And it is in a Chinese market where you will experience epic bargaining. The Chinese excel at bargaining. They live and breathe it. It is an art; it is a sport. It is, above all, nothing personal. If you do not parry back and forth, you will be regarded as a chump, a walking ATM machine, a carcass to be picked over. And so as you peruse the cabbage or consider the silk, be prepared to bargain. The objective, of course, is to obtain the Chinese price. You will, however, never actually receive the Chinese price. It is the holy grail for laowais--or foreigners--in China. Your status as a laowai is determined by how proximate your haggling gets you to the mythical Chinese price. But you will never obtain the Chinese price. Accept this. But if you’re very, very good, and you bargain long and hard, and if you are lucky and catch your interlocutor on an off day, you may, just may, receive the special price. Consider yourself fortunate.

3. Travelers are often told to get off the beaten path, to take the road less traveled, to march to a different drum. You don't need to do this in China. The road well-traveled is a very fine road. The French Concession in Shanghai is splendid. The Forbidden City is a wonder of the world. So too the Terracotta Warriors in Xi'an. Indeed, the Chinese say so themselves. There is much to be seen in places that are often seen. And yet... China is not merely a country. It is not a place defined by sights. It is a world upon itself, a different planet even. And to see it--to feel it--means leaving that well-traveled road. And China is an excellent place for wandering. From the monasteries of Tibet to the rainforests of Yunnan Province and onward through the deserts of Xinjiang to the frozen tundra of Heilongjiang Province, China offers a vast kaleidoscope of people and terrain unlike anywhere else on Earth. This may seem intimidating to the China traveler. Will there be picture menus in the Taklamakan Desert? (No.) Is Visa accepted in Inner Mongolia? (Not likely.) Still, one should move beyond the Great Wall. And if you can manage to cross six lanes of traffic in Beijing, you can manage the slow train to Kunming.

4. Hell is a line in China. You are so forewarned.

5. Manners are important in China. How can this be, you wonder? You have, for instance, experienced a line in China. Your ribs have been pummeled. You have been trampled upon by grandmothers who are not more than four feet tall. You have learned, simply by queuing in the airport taxi line, what it is like to eat bitter, an evocative Chinese expression that conveys suffering. This does not seem upon first impression to be a country overly concerned with prim etiquette. But it is. True, hawking enormous, gelatinous loogies is perfectly acceptable in China. And a good belch is fine as well. And picking your teeth after dinner is a sign of urbane sophistication. But this does not mean that manners are not taken seriously in China. It’s just that they are different in China. And so feel free to spit and burp, but do not even think of holding your chopsticks with your left hand. You will be regarded as an ill-mannered rube. So watch your manners in China. But learn them first.

From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. In his latest, veteran traveler Troost (The Sex Lives of Cannibals, Getting Stoned with Savages) embarks on an extended tour of "the new wild west," China. Troost travels from the megalopolis of Beijing to small, remote trails in the hinterlands, the fabled Shangri-La and all points in between, allowing for a substantive look at an incredibly complex culture. He does an admirable job of summing up the country's rich history, venturing to Nanjing to learn about China's deep-seated animosity toward Japan; he also visits the Forbidden City, and the tomb of Mao Zedong, still very much revered despite his horrific record of human rights abuses. Gross disparity in wealth, omnipresent pollution and the teeming mass of humanity that greet Troost at every opportunity wear on him and the reader alike; the sense of claustrophobia only relents when he gets into more remote areas. Throughout, Troost is refreshingly upbeat, without a hint of ugly American elitism; he often steps aside to let the facts speak for themselves, and rarely devolves into complaints over the language barrier or other day-to-day frustrations. Those looking for tips on Hong Kong night life or other touristy secrets will be disappointed-few names are named-but readers interested in a warts-and-all look at this complicated, evolving country will find this a rich education.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
Troost, who entertained readers in The Sex Lives of Cannibals (2004) with tales of life on a South Pacific island, now turns his attention to China. Settled in Sacramento, California, with his wife and two sons, Troost gets restless and floats the idea of moving his family to China. His wife is amenable, so he sets off to scout ahead. What he finds in Beijing is a crowded, smoggy city where something as simple as taking a walk can be a dangerous proposition, given the hazardous traffic. Troost visits one burgeoning industrial city after another, finding immense crowds, odd cuisine, piteous beggars, and masseuses offering sexual favors. He also discovers a country that firmly believes that it’s on the edge of something big; in spite of a great divide between poor and rich, China is undergoing a tremendous push toward modernity. Troost’s crisp, engaging prose invites the reader to experience his adventures right alongside him. At turns meditative, whimsical, humorous, and shocked, Troost is an excellent guide to the vast, multifaceted country that is modern-day China. --Kristine Huntley

Customer Reviews

Loved his earlier work, but this is a bit of a disappointment
I like Maarten: he's half Czech, I'm half Czech; he's actually lived in Port Vila Vanuatu with his wife, I've actually lived in Port Vila Vanuatu with my wife. In addition, he is much funnier than I am. His books about the South Pacific ("The Sex Lives of Cannibals" [SLC] and "Getting Stoned with Savages" [GSWS]) were hoots, and very accurate from what I can attest to from having spent time in some of the same places (Vanuatu and Fiji).

In "Lost on Planet China" (LPC) Maarten is still funny, but much less so in this book than in his two previous works. I counted five personal "laugh out louds" from LPC, as opposed to the dozens and dozens of "laugh out louds" I experienced from both SLC and GSWS. I found his personal opinions usually reasonable (having spent some time in China, I disagree with some of those other reviewers apparently offended by Maarten's honesty), but some of his jokes began to become repetitious (example: by the time he is blaming George Bush for not getting served meatballs in Xian I actually closed the book for a day - this was approximately tenth time a similar "W" attempt at humor was clumsily inserted). But mostly, the editing of LPC is horrible. He mentions at the end (in his Acknowledgements) that his editor was giving birth during the time she was editing one of his chapters. Actually, it reads as if she was giving birth during the last 1/4 of the book. This end section is disjointed, confusing (example: a reference is made to something that apparently happened earlier during Maarten's trip, but which seems to have been redacted out of an earlier chapter), and frequently just plain boring.

This book is like we've started on a very interesting trip of discovery together with a person you know with a reputation for being funny. Things start well, as time goes on you have some minor issues, but you are still enjoying yourself and learning. Then things begin to get disorganized and you actually start to wonder why you are still going along. It's not just that China is complex (as the author keeps pointing out), it's because the trip itself is beginning to seem pointless. You keep thinking it's got to get better, and despite a few brief respites, it does not get better. Even though the first 250-300 pages are good, the last 100 pages are a chore and leave you with a bad taste in your mouth. Or maybe it's the live squids.

One final thought: although I doubt that Maarten had anything to do with the map, it is rather interesting. Taiwan appears to be a province of the PRC - Broadway Books does not apparently consider the ROC as a separate country - yet Tibet appears (judging by the typeface) to be some sort of separate country. Complex indeed.

Traveling With Maarten...Nothing Better!
J. Maarten Troost has taken us to a small atoll in the South Pacific and to the volcanic Vanauatu in his previous books, Sex Lives of Cannibals and Getting Stoned With Savages. Now he turns his wit and observational skills on that great unknown,China, in his latest endeavor, Lost on Planet China, and what a marvelous travelogue it is!

Told with his trademark wry humor, Lost on Planet China follows Troost as he starts off in the big cities of Beijing (which has given me a whole new perspective on the 2008 Summer Olympics), Shanghai, and Hong Kong. I was flabbergasted at the amount of pollution in China; it seems its entry into the twenty-first century is coming at a very high price. But like Troost, it was the western travels through Tibet, Leaping Tiger Gorge, and Dunhuang that I found the most informative and interesting. Troost's writing is such that I could feel the thin air and experience the death-defying trails seemingly first hand; his interactions with the peoples of China were fascinating glimpses into lives that I doubt I'll ever experience. I love that Troost chose to visit not just the obvious tourist stops such as the Terra Cotta Warriors and the Great Wall, but also smaller islands like Putuoshan. I came away with a real flavor for the history and the feel of China.

I enjoyed this book immensely, though I do wish Troost had told me two things that continually popped into my mind throughout the reading: Where did he get the money for such an extended trip (not that it's actually my business, but I'm curious), and what was his reunion with his wife and two young sons like once he finally left Planet China? Other than those two minor points, I have to say that this is another engaging entry in Troost's repetoire, and I'll be eagerly looking forward to seeing where we'll be traveling next.

As an aside, do watch the short films on the homepage of this book on Amazon. Not only are they funny, they give a bit of insight into the scenery and conditions experienced in Lost on Planet China.

A Condescending and Exaggeratedly Negative Picture of China
Let it not be said that Maarten Troost is not an entertaining, humorous guy who's seemingly willing to try almost anything for the adventure, if not for laughs. Unfortunately, the price for trying so hard to be glib in travel writing is that it can too easily devolve into exaggeration and a (perhaps unintentional) condescendion toward the people and places the writer encounters.

Thus it is with LOST ON PLANET CHINA, reportedly Troost's third travel book and the first I've read. This book regrettably comes across as half dabble, half slumming, and all for effect. Troost begins his journey in Beijing, where he repeatedly insults his translator tour guide Miao Miao by spelling her name Meow Meow and suggesting her name is that of a Bond girl). He then moves in a more or less circular fashion around the country to Tai Shan, Qingdao, Nanjing, Shanghai, Hangzhou, Putuoshan Island, Hong Kong/Macau, Guangzhou, Dali, Lijiang, Lhasa, Lanzhou, Dunhuang, Chengdu, Xi'an, Harbin, and finally Dandong at the North Korean border. Troost samples a number of China's most famous sites and places on the cheap, as it were. This of course affords him the opportunity to travel on ultracrowded trains, sleep in crummy hotels, and generally experience a bit of the country's less fulsome underbelly.

All of this adds up to what we might call, with full ironic intent, a "pretty picture." China isn't just dirty, it's a veritable pigpen of dirt, dust, human and animal feces, and garbage. Chinese people don't just spit, they shower each other and Western visitors in a continuous barrage of what Mr. Troost charmingly calls "loogies." Chinese people aren't just without manners, they're positively animal-like in their incivility. The country isn't just heavily populated, it's a nightmare of human gridlock that would have confirmed Malthus's worst imaginings. The air isn't just polluted, it's visible, it's brown or gray or both, and it can kill you in a matter of weeks.

While these extreme representations serve a peculiar form of disparaging, Animal House-like juvenile humor, they hardly serve the reader who really wants to learn about or understand China. Yes, these behaviors and problems exist, and many are pervasive if not tragic, but they hardly make the country the tourist nightmare Mr. Troost would have us believe. Having traveled moderately extensively in China, lived in the Shanghai area (in Suzhou) for most of three years in a standard apartment block building, visited a number of the same cities and locales Mr. Troost describes, and ridden on trains in several parts of the country, I barely recognized the China I know in this author's descriptions. I've seen and experienced all the same things this author disparages, but they pale in comparison to the warm, positive experiences I've had with Chinese people and culture. If all I had to go on were LOST ON PLANET CHINA, I would never want to visit the country he describes. To the extent that this book's readers might reach that unhappy conclusion, the loss would be theirs. Shame on you for that, Mr. Troost.

Imagine for a moment that an educated, culturally jaded Chinese citizen spent the better part of the year mimicking Mr. Troost's travels, only in the United States. That individual could then sit down and pen a travel book about traffic jams, fundamentalist churchgoers, strip malls, professional wrestling and car-crushing events, people weighing 350 pounds and carrying 75% of it in their hips and posteriors, dirty streets in major cities, gun-slinging NRA'ers, decaying roads and falling bridges, a train system that is the embarrassment of the industrialized world, fanatical, hate-spewing political talking heads, and the like. New York City could be reduced to its dirty streets and aging subways, Washington D.C. to its crime rate and failing schools, and so on. That, in a nutshell, is what Mr. Troost gives the reader about most of China - a view through dirt-streaked (as opposed to rose-colored) glasses.

Curiously, for all his close-to-the-people travel experiences, Mr. Troost has very little to offer from individual Chinese people beyond a few tour guides. We never really meet China through it people or experience its culture except through the cynical, Seth Rogen eyes of the author. And that's not the real China any more than the description above is the real America. Elements of truth yes, but exaggerated for negative, albeit perhaps humorous effect. It's a sad type of humor though, one that has numerous ugly predecessors in American history - the colonialist attitude of nineteenth century Westerners in Shanghai, treatment of Chinese coolies as little more than slaves, the buck-tooth caricatures, the Chinese Exclusion Act, and much more. Mr. Troost travels the very edges of this prejudice, stopping just short of calling out 1.3 billion people as little yellow monkeys. Humor through gross exaggeration and racial condescension is really not very funny. It's just hurtful and unfortunate.