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The Dream That Wouldn’t End

I was asked not-so-recently by a publicist to review a book.  I have no idea why she asked me, I have to assume it was because this is a blog about motorcycling and the book is about a guy riding a motorcycle, so…  Well, here’s my review, such as it is.  I think the publicist may regret having asked me.

Back in 1973 a guy in his 40’s named Ted Simon rode a motorcycle around the world.  It took him four years to do it, and when he was finished he wrote a book about it: Jupiter’s Travels.  The book has become a cult classic and has inspired hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of people to go on similar journeys.  Ewan MacGregor and Charley Boorman of Long Way Round and Long Way Down fame cite Simon as an influence, for example.  Nearly thirty years on, at the age of 73, Ted decided to do it again, and he wrote a book about the second journey: Dreaming of Jupiter.  This is the book I was asked to review.

Let me say first of all that I am fascinated by the idea of riding a motorcycle around the world.  I’ve said before here how much I’d like to ride through Mexico; doing the same thing around the world could only be bigger and better.  So I love the idea of what Ted has done and I have all kinds of respect for him for having done it not once, but twice.  But oh my god, I hated this book.  It started out slow, never got better, and the overall impression I came away with was that it is an unending stream of complaints.

Here’s the review in a one-line nutshell for you:  Ted Simon traveled the world by motorcycle, went back and did it again thirty years later, and found that everything had changed — and he didn’t like it.

Time and time again in this book he’d talk about his fond memories for a place he’d traveled through on his first trip in the 70’s, painting a rosy picture of unspoiled beauty and warm-hearted locals welcoming him with open arms, and then he’d complain bitterly that it was ruined when he came through again the second time around.  Landscapes were spoiled, buildings were torn down or decrepit or had been remodeled, people had died or moved or didn’t remember him — every place he went was a disappointment.  400-plus pages of this got to be a bit much.   And the roads…  Good lord, don’t get him started on the roads.  I don’t think Ted has ever met a road he couldn’t find something wrong with, and there are only a few of them he hasn’t managed to drop his bike on.

I hate to come down as hard on this book as I am, but I found it to be unpleasant to read and a great disappointment in terms of its glossing over of sharing the experience.  It’s not that he doesn’t describe what he sees and experiences, it’s more the disconnected and negative way he does it.  I was hoping to live the journey vicariously through the book, but there’s something about the way it’s written that keeps any sharing of the experience at arm’s length.  The only thing you really feel of his experiences are his bitterness and disappointment at how much everything has changed.

On the other hand, maybe it’s just me.  Positive reviews of this book abound, so it may just be that I don’t “get” it.  That’s possible, it’s not the first time I’ve missed the popular bandwagon (I’m looking at you, Dane Cook, Angelina Jolie, the Harley-Davidson Rocker), but Dreaming of Jupiter just put me to sleep.  Your mileage may vary.

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