Product Description

From the master of literary reportage whose acclaimed books include Shah of Shahs, The Emperor, and The Shadow of the Sun, an intimate account of his first youthful forays beyond the Iron Curtain.

Just out of university in 1955, Kapuscinski told his editor that he’d like to go abroad. Dreaming no farther than Czechoslovakia, the young reporter found himself sent to India. Wide-eyed and captivated, he would discover in those days his life’s work—to understand and describe the world in its remotest reaches, in all its multiplicity. From the rituals of sunrise at Persepolis to the incongruity of Louis Armstrong performing before a stone-faced crowd in Khartoum, Kapuscinski gives us the non-Western world as he first saw it, through still-virginal Western eyes.

The companion on his travels: a volume of Herodotus, a gift from his first boss. Whether in China, Poland, Iran, or the Congo, it was the “father of history”—and, as Kapuscinski would realize, of globalism—who helped the young correspondent to make sense of events, to find the story where it did not obviously exist. It is this great forerunner’s spirit—both supremely worldly and innately Occidental—that would continue to whet Kapuscinski’s ravenous appetite for discovering the broader world and that has made him our own indispensable companion on any leg of that perpetual journey.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #33794 in Books
• Published on: 2007-06-05
• Released on: 2007-06-05
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 288 pages

From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com
Reviewed by Tahir Shah

A year ago, while on an official visit to Ethiopia, I was given a tour of the Imperial Palace in Addis Ababa by the president. He showed me the treasure vaults in the basement where ancient Ethiopian crowns sit alongside other national treasures, including a vial of moon dust presented by NASA and a signed portrait of JFK, furnished by Jackie O. And I was taken into the bedroom of Emperor Haile Selassie, which has been left untouched in the decades since he was smothered with a pillow during a coup d'etat. On the nightstand were the emperor's medications, and in his closet a line of starched white uniforms, all in extra small. As I stood there, amazed that the palace's interior could have escaped the anarchy that had swept the surrounding capital, I found myself wishing that a certain unassuming Polish journalist could be there with me to share the experience.

His name was Ryszard Kapuscinski, and he was a character right out of a Graham Greene novel.

As World War II slipped into the Cold War, developing nations were lured fervently by Washington and Moscow. The front line was often a despotic African state such as Angola or Zaire, or a tumultuous Central Asian republic such as Afghanistan. "Third World" guerrilla conflicts were covered by a hardcore group of Western reporters, most of them backed by legendary expense accounts. But Kapuscinski lived in a world apart. A correspondent for the Polish News Agency, he could hardly afford to file his stories by Telex, let alone hire helicopters or personal security. But unlike his suave competitors at the international networks, he became known for treating the stories he was sent to cover with a gentle sensitivity that was almost unknown in the business. Africa was the cornerstone of his writing life. He considered it his second home. During his long career he observed 27 coups and revolutions and reported from a roll call of hotspots -- among them Uganda, Zanzibar and Ethiopia.

Kapuscinski famously kept two notebooks -- one for journalism and another for his own form of reportage-based literature. His unique style won him many awards, translations and an enormous international following. He died in January of this year, and his last book, published posthumously in English, is called Travels with Herodotus. The Greek's 5th-century B.C. Histories, presented to Kapuscinski by his editor as he stepped out on his first foreign assignment, was his traveling companion on almost all his journeys.

Travels with Herodotus is a work of art: so eloquent, so simple, that you find yourself marveling at its prose, its gentle observation and the rhythm of the words. And you find yourself applauding such good translation as well. Kapuscinski reminisces on his first view of the Nile, back in 1960; on his great love, India; and on the time he watched Louis Armstrong play to a bemused audience in the Sudan. "He greeted everyone," Kapuscinski writes, "raising into the air the hand holding his golden trumpet, and said into the cheap, crackling microphone that he was pleased to be playing in Khartoum, and not only pleased, but downright delighted, after which he broke into his full, loose, infectious laugh. It was laughter that invited others to laugh along, but the audience remained aloofly silent, not quite certain how to behave."

All through the book, Herodotus is by Kapuscinski's side, a traveling companion, mentor and trusted friend throughout a long career. He reflects on the Greek historian's vision of the world he knew, and of the lands through which he himself traveled. My only criticism is that such fine writing doesn't need a gimmick, if the use of Herodotus's great work could be construed as that. And of course some may consider this yet another work by an author sometimes regarded as being loose with his facts. Even if Kapuscinski did meddle with the truth from time to time, I would say he understood the subjects of his reportage and their environment in a way that's rare. For me, this is a travel book that all students of writing and of literature ought to read, not so much to learn what to put into their writing, as to glean what to leave out.

The deeper, tacit message in Travels with Herodotus is surely that journalism now, with its celebrity roving correspondents who jet in and out of conflicts, misses the point. This new brand of reporting never connects with the subtleties and with the people on whose land trials and tribulations fall. Kapuscinski will be remembered for a kind of writing and a standard seldom present in the reportage we read today; just as he will be remembered for a humility, a selflessness, that touched every word he wrote.

Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

From AudioFile
Ryszard Kapuscinski hadnt traveled much before he took a job with the Polish newspaper THE BANNER OF TRUTH. A trip to India--with a Polish translation of Herodotuss works given to him by an editor--changed that. Nicolas Coster reads with a genuine sense of joy that creates all the excitement of a first trip. Coster captures Kapuscinskis depiction of the love of reading that often comes with seeing the world, as well as the tension between the real world and Communist teachings about it. Written from a rare Eastern Bloc perspective, Kapuscinskis book introduces listeners to the joys of reading and learning, and to journalism new and ancient. J.A.S. © AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine

From Booklist
In 1955, just starting his career as a reporter, Kapuscinski wanted to travel just beyond the border of Poland. His editor sent him on assignment much farther afield, to China, Iran, and Africa, with a gift of Herodotus' Histories. In this amazing memoir, Kapuscinski compares his own wanderings to those of the Greek historian. He wonders about the motivation behind Herodotus' journeys, recounting how his own were spurred by unrest in Poland. Calling Herodotus the "first globalist," Kapuscinski uses his volume as comfort, solace, guide, and inspiration. He intersperses Herodotus' writings throughout his own musings at the modern world, comparing ancient Persia's Darius with the then shah of Iran. As he reads about and dreads the war between the Greeks and Persians, he covers the war in the Congo. Liberated by his travels, Kapuscinski nonetheless feels the impenetrability of the "Great Wall of Language" in China and all the barriers to overcoming xenophobia and nurturing an appreciation for diverse cultures. Kapuscinski's recollections are intimate and vibrant in his embrace of a broader world. Bush, Vanessa

Customer Reviews

socio-political reporter
Kapuscinski reports on the people and political culture of the third and fourth worlds( the third being countries like Iran and the fourth countries like the Congo).

He is very humble to recognize that it is difficult if not impossible to report on a country if a reporter does not speak the foreign country language such as India and Iran.

He laments the total chaos of countries in Africa, the total anarchy !

He also made us realize through Herodotus Histories that a good reporter is more than the reporter who provides snippets of sound and images clips for immediate daily consumptions.

He forces us to realize that men in their psychological makeups are still the same as in Herodotus times.

Through the Histories of Herodotus underatand today's events.

Meander through history
This book steals the reader away from the present in a journey through time. Although his own stories and narratives are fascinating, Kapuscinski's enlivening of Herodotus becomes what holds you. You can't help but feel excitement for the reading journey ahead when you pick the book up after having put it down for a break. Furthermore, his analysis of a certain type of "traveler" (versus tourist) will haunt (or inspire) any of those who find themselves more the former than the latter. In the realm of memoirs, this book is of par excellence.

Worthwhile for the first half.
A poetic view into the experiences of a Polish man raised with Stalinist-era values, and how he deals with these values' total deficiency in helping him understand and cope with the rest of the world. A little-kid-in-big-city book. I can't dissociate myself from my classicist leanings enough to know what to do with his expansive interpretations of Herodotus, though. Try to enjoy them as fiction, as musings? Tough to do!

Sadly, the book seems to me to lose steam halfway through: it becomes a regurgitation of Herodotus's stories about war (the LEAST interesting bits of Hdt., I think), literally paraphrasing Hdt. for chapters on end. I'm not enough of a literary gal to sustain the attention necessary to make these expansive retellings interesting as new literature. If I wanted to read Hdt., I would. And it would be far more interesting, because I'd get the neat ethnographic and mythological excurses mixed in with the boring accounts of battle formations.