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Slowly Down the Ganges (1966)

par Eric Newby

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457354,354 (3.39)9
'Slowly Down the Ganges' is seen as a vintage Newby masterpiece, alongside 'A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush' and 'Love and War in the Apennines'. Told with Newby's self-deprecating humour and wry attention to detail, this is a classic of the genre and a window into an enchanting piece of history. On his forty-forth birthday, Eric Newby sets out on an incredible journey: to travel the 1,200-mile length of India's holy river. In a misguided attempt to keep him out of trouble, Wanda, his life-long travel companion and wife, is to be his fellow boatwoman. Their plan is to begin in the great plain of Hardwar and finish in the Bay of Bengal, but the journey almost immediately becomes markedly slower and more treacherous than either had imagined - running aground sixty-three times in the first six days. Travelling in a variety of unstable boats, as well as by rail, bus and bullock cart, and resting at sandbanks and remote villages, the Newbys encounter engaging characters and glorious mishaps, including the non-existence of large-scale maps of the country, a realisation that questions of pure 'logic' cause grave offense and, on one occasion, the only person in sight for miles is an old man who is himself unsure where he is. Newby's only consolation: on a river, if you go downstream, you're sure to end up somewhere...… (plus d'informations)
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» Voir aussi les 9 mentions

3 sur 3
Great book if you have an interest in foreign travel on your own, often unconventional, terms. Anything dealing with India will fascinate me. And if there is a journey involved, even more so. ( )
  ben_r47 | Feb 22, 2024 |
so. many. ghats. ( )
  farrhon | Oct 31, 2020 |
I really enjoyed reading this book, yet another great travel narrative from an excellent writer, and, once again, Eric is accompanied by the indomitable (even by India and its casual and common berri-berri) Wanda, his wife and fellow adventurer. It turned out to be a very slow journey indeed, fraught with those difficulties that only India can create – but that just gives us, the readers, even more details, stories and evocative descriptions to enjoy – in fact you can find yourself wishing it slower.

The idea was considered easy and enjoyable by the then Prime Minister, Gandhi – who armed Eric with a letter of commendation that did not much help – as it was the Ganges itself, that was the problem, a river without much water for the first 100 miles. They ran aground 63 times in the first six days and, frustrated, turned to train to bullock cart, bus, hiking, portage and back to boat again.

Eric’s ‘motive’ for returning yet again to India is his simple like for the country and its people from his time as a “very junior” officer in the British Army - he never was an elite, plundering member of the Raj. One lyrical chapter covers their visit to Eric’s old Army Post, now an Indian Army centre with the original mess hung with the records of two Sepoy who won the VC (Victoria Cross for Extreme Bravery) and a letter, rightly framed and accorded a honored placing, from another who, despite being a Prisoner of War in Germany writes back to his Battalion and requests that seven Rupees a month be stopped from his accumulating pay and donated to the International Red Cross.

Far from reflecting condescending attitudes or trashing the endlessly varied and fantastic cults of Indian religions and their sometimes bizarre rituals, Eric finds time to see, hear, record, and appreciate it all, and finds everything fascinating. Thankfully, when he does start to get a little too detailed about these extraordinary Kings that are a mile high and fight battles lasting a thousand years, we can rely on Wanda to add some pithy comment.
Rather than reflecting the perhaps expected 1980 Euro-Christian viewpoint, Eric contrasts one modern Indian mall, with its up-market restaurants, US Baptists Church and vendors of Christmas Cards and Scotch with the narrow lanes of the old ‘native city’ where “here the atmosphere was friendly and there was an air of excitement and animation lacking in the European part”.

How this talented pair of travelers manage to counter the frustrations and infuriations of India that I experienced I can only wonder at, admire and applaud and I look forward to reading more accounts of their ever-readable journeys together.
2 voter John_Vaughan | Jun 12, 2011 |
3 sur 3
In the end, what impresses is Eric Newby’s openess to experience. He is the sort of man that defaults to a “yes”. Unlike so many post-modern ironics there is nothing below him. He goes to India with a big heart and applies it broadly. True, he can be wry but within that tone, there is a sense that he would always rather have what is happening happen, no matter how distracting, grotesque or off-putting. He is the archtypical traveller; the sort you and I should wish upon ourselves.
ajouté par John_Vaughan | modifierOpen Critic Review (Jul 15, 2011)
 

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'Slowly Down the Ganges' is seen as a vintage Newby masterpiece, alongside 'A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush' and 'Love and War in the Apennines'. Told with Newby's self-deprecating humour and wry attention to detail, this is a classic of the genre and a window into an enchanting piece of history. On his forty-forth birthday, Eric Newby sets out on an incredible journey: to travel the 1,200-mile length of India's holy river. In a misguided attempt to keep him out of trouble, Wanda, his life-long travel companion and wife, is to be his fellow boatwoman. Their plan is to begin in the great plain of Hardwar and finish in the Bay of Bengal, but the journey almost immediately becomes markedly slower and more treacherous than either had imagined - running aground sixty-three times in the first six days. Travelling in a variety of unstable boats, as well as by rail, bus and bullock cart, and resting at sandbanks and remote villages, the Newbys encounter engaging characters and glorious mishaps, including the non-existence of large-scale maps of the country, a realisation that questions of pure 'logic' cause grave offense and, on one occasion, the only person in sight for miles is an old man who is himself unsure where he is. Newby's only consolation: on a river, if you go downstream, you're sure to end up somewhere...

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