Salman Qamar Qamar itibaren 9217 Krivnya, Bulgaristan
I should add a review. If my ideas and outlook were a house, this book would be the sturdy staircase leading down into the foundation. It's a travelogue about a woman (Rebecca West) and her husband (referred to only as my husband) on a trip through the Balkans in 1938. It's also an exercise in extreme cultural and ethnic essentialism. And a history of the Balkans. And an amazing compilation of snark and wit. And stunning description of place and scene. Things I liked: West make a subtle argument throughout the book that historical events leave indelible marks on groups of people. It's a viewpoint that I believe we do not spend enough time analyzing. West is an amazingly enjoyable guide. She's comfortable delving into the history of countries you know nothing about (the tragedy of the Dalmation hillside?), the cookie eating habits of train travelers, and the beauty of simple domestic clothing. Her unnamed husband is hilarious (banker Henry Maxwell Andrews). Warning: Racist toward Turks and Germans. Well, okay, vaguely racist toward Turkey, and an outright attack piece on German culture of the 1930s. One might call it prescient.