Samps's blog

One summer I went to Rome with my mom, dad, and sister. I always resented going on these trips with my family because we would spend so much time together eventually we all wanted to kill each other. During our stay we decided to go to the Vatican city and see what there is to see. Outside the chapel there is a ring of statues of the sculptors fifty favorite saints. I was impressed that anyone knew fifty saints and their deeds let along have fifty favorites. Anyhow, we made our way through the masses of foreigners from every pocket of Earth interspersed with crowds of pigeons and up to the main entrance of the chapel.
Outside the entrance stood the Swiss Guard with stern facial expressions and halberd spears, yet dressed jester-like attire. The contrast was goofy and I chuckled to myself a bit. Inside the church I saw a lot of things that in retrospect are pretty amazing but at the time seemed sort of meaningless. I was too young to appreciate what went into the chapel. Along the walls of the entry hall were writings in Latin that appeared to be nothing special but apparently each letter of each word was two feet tall and chiseled all in completely uniform font. On the floor there were marks with names of other duomos throughout Italy, marking where they would end if they were placed within the Sistine Chapel and thus drawing attention to just how gargantuan a structure it is in comparison with all the other duomos in Italy.
My parents lapped everything up. They couldn’t help but be glued to everything their eyes latched on to. I got vertigo from looking at the art work on the ceiling and became very dizzy and uncomfortable with myself and couldn’t find a spot to sit down and my feet were starting to ache from standing around and standing in lines and standing in art museums days before and walking to and from everywhere we went. I was just a little guy. I didn’t have much endurance for this kind of thing. But my family was determined to teach me some patience as they kept me there in my state of self inflicted woe and whining while they poured over every detail of the building.
Finally my parents decided they had their fill and told me it was time to leave. We walked out of the chapel, past the goofy Swiss Guard again, and out into the heat of the Roman afternoon. It was so hot that we immediately sought refuge under the shade of the ring of saintly statues. In the shade my dad took out his map and travel guide and began the tedium of trying to figure out where to go next and exploring every potential detail of every potential place we could go that day. I sat for awhile, but then I got antsy and started pacing around. I then looked up at the statues above me and noticed all the pigeons roosting on the platform upon which the statues were mounted. I remember thinking, “Well that really is a lot of pigeons. I imagine if someone stood right there they’d run the risk of --” and just then pigeon shit spilled over the edge of the platform and splattered all over my head and onto one of my shoulders. My sister was in instant hysterics and continued to be so for many ensuing moments. My parents did their best to make me feel better but couldn’t because I knew they were suppressing laughter as well. That’s when it hit me. You can’t come into God’s house with a crappy attitude and not get crapped on yourself. I sought an immediate shower.

Not all epiphanies leave one feeling so much illuminated as aware of impending doom. In Ian McEwan’s The Comfort of Strangers Mary has a silent revelation that Colin is going to be killed by Robert and Caroline. When Caroline shows her the collection of pictures of Colin on the wall, Mary immediately comes to understand the grim fate that awaits Colin upon his return to the house with Robert. But there is nothing to be done because the drugs in her tea kick in and Mary is rendered dumb and immobile and is forced to watch Colin’s murder. Because she cannot speak or move Mary is unable to express herself in her epiphany, but the reader is still aware of the epiphany because of Caroline repeating, “You understand, don’t you?” And it is in that line that Mary comes to understand Colin’s death as the culmination of her vacation.
Mary and Colin go on vacation together in the hopes it would rekindle the dwindling passion in their relationship and found themselves more attracted to each other ever since they stay the night at Robert and Caroline’s house. The morning after they stay at Robert and Caroline’s they awake in night gowns that do not belong to them and did not put on themselves. This implies that either Robert or Caroline or both together undressed Colin and Mary and dressed them in the night gowns while they were unconscious. But Colin and Mary do not question their new clothes. Instead they shed the night gowns and have sex with each other. Later that morning Caroline tells Mary that she had watched the latter and Colin sleep to admire Colin’s beauty. Instead of questioning the motives of Caroline, Mary and Colin go back to their hotel room and have sex all day and whisper violent fantasies into each other’s ears while doing it.
Something about the sadomasochistic energy exuded by Robert and Caroline gets Mary and Colin all hot for each other. In this way they both find exactly what they were looking for by going on vacation. But, they get so wrapped up in each other and this new passion that they are blind to the truth that Mary comes to realize during her epiphany: Robert and Caroline are going to kill Colin in front of Mary and Mary, in a sense, enjoys it. It is the idea of there being something at stake that pulls Mary and Colin into bed together and Robert and Caroline provide that by being so openly and extremely violent in their sex lives. All along it was the threat that Robert and Caroline would harm them that revives Mary and Colin’s sex life. There is a sense of excitement Mary and Colin feel that they could be hurt or killed at any moment and the thought they might die in carnal embrace makes the sex seem all the more sinful, all the more taboo, and thus all the more appealing. Yet the sense that death is imminent during their love making is also suppressed by Mary and Colin; they do not address their feelings openly with each other and likely do not understand them fully. This is what makes Mary’s epiphany in that when she sees the pictures of Colin on the wall she comes to understand how the feeling of sexual excitement in the face of violence has played into her life and what the consequences will be as a result. Mary comes to realize that she had wanted more sexual excitement with Colin and she got just what she asked for and in this sense both expected and enjoyed Colin’s death. Of course she did not avidly want Colin to be murdered, but in her epiphany she realizes that she and Colin were reveling in a lion’s den and one cannot expect to come out unscathed.

Seems to be something of a Miu situationDreams. Can anyone really distinguish a dream from anything else? Dreams don’t always seem like dreams; they can seem so real. And even if they aren’t real and are acknowledged as such, don’t dreams often affect our perspective and/or the way we act? Dreams, whether they are real or not are manifest in reality. For humans, dreams are a reality. The metaphysical world is filled with dreams, visions, sounds, ideas, and emotions and humans seem inclined to translate them into reality. Often this phenomenon manifests as art and language. Haruki Murakami’s Sputnik Sweethheart experiments with this idea a good deal. The story primarily follows the lives and dreams of K and Sumire, two young people who share dreams with each other. They do not necessarily talk about the dreams they had while sleeping, but about fiction books and music; they talk about things like Jack Kerouac and world class piano sonatas. Sumire even tells K about her sexual fantasies to some extent. This sets the tone for their relationship – one based upon art, language, thoughts, ideas, dreams. Sumire and K’s relationship is so steeped in sharing dreams that the story begins to mesh dreams with reality and it is no longer clear what is a dream and what is reality and eventually it does not matter what is a dream and what is reality because the characters find more value in their dreams than anything else. Murakami is able to accomplish this effect by omitting key details such as dates and locations. But Murakami also includes key details such as a phone call received at three in the morning; did the phone call even really happen or was it a dream? It does not matter. K’s love for Sumire is unrequited and so he dreams that they are together and falls in love with that dream. Eventually the dream becomes better than reality and seems more real and satisfying. Even in the end when it would seem that Sumire is recovered it is not entirely clear because she contacts K with another one of her three-am phone calls. Yet all K ever has is dreams and all he can hope for is that Sumire, if she will not love him physically, will love him as a friend that will dream with him. Yet how can we communicate in anything but dreams? It may very well be that dreams are responsible for everything we do and say. To do anything requires the will to do it and a will must dream in order to exist. If one does not dream, why would one choose to continue living? Dreams are what make life bearable. Dreams, fantasies, goals, desires, hungers longings; these are the things that drive us to make decisions, the keep ourselves alive. Isn’t it funny that a large amount, perhaps everything, that occurs pertaining to humans is caused by something generally considered to be distinct from reality? But there is logic; our perceptions allow us to experience reality but all perceptions are unique so reality is in question. So if reality is relative aren’t dreams just as believable as reality? In this way we are engaged in metaphysical symbiosis; we make our dreams a reality and our dreams make us a reality. Murakami’s understanding of dreams and how they integrate with reality has allowed him to dream art into existence that is intricately ridged and grooved with emotion. Sputnik Sweetheart is a dream manifest and thus the proof that dreams are real.

Bird SongWhile reading Xiaolu Guo’s A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers I could not help but notice how poetic Chinese language is. The fact that Chinese has changed so little as a language over so much time is a testament to how its poetry has held a lasting influence over the society; and how could it not? The language is fairly simple in practice such that it would not need to be changed, yet since each character is a picture, a representation of thought, it being simple does not prevent it from being an insufficient means of expression.
English is so far from the Chinese manner of communication. While there are many virtues to English (it is a very malleable language in that one can use arsenals of synonyms, create one’s own metaphors and figures of speech, even make up new words), I feel that Chinese has English beat in the category of representation. All language tries to represent thought. Represent is the key word because thoughts are essentially wordless and are only translated into language for purposes of communication, thus people cannot really share their thoughts so much as a linguistic representation of them. Chinese being a pictorial language is much more effective and efficient in representing thought than English because a picture is to be taken as a whole and so the connotation, history, mythology, poetry, and overall meaning of the thoughts represented are implied by those pictures.
I really like the idea of pictures as a form of communication because the culture that brought the language into existence is reflected in every character. There is a rich history just in everyday language and numerous parallels drawn from natural surroundings such as the way to greet someone in Chinese directly translates into, “Birds have their bird language, beasts have their beast talk,” (pg. 7). Of course, I have no clue what this is supposed to really mean because I am totally unfamiliar with Chinese culture, however I can tell it is a metaphor. This talk of birds and beasts is representative of some form of thought. Perhaps you would say this as a way to say “good morning” for in the morning birds and beasts begin to make the noise implicit in their daily activities? I don’t know. But I like it. I like that there is an inherent closeness to nature in Chinese because we are of nature, surrounded by nature (to some degree); it only makes sense that our thoughts should be conveyed in terms of nature because that should be something everyone can relate to.
English tries too hard sometimes. I love that English can be manipulated so easily, but that is also why the language changes so much and lacks readily apparent meaning or cultural background. While in English it is still possible to speak in reference and allusion to nature in a poetic fashion, it is considered flowery language that is considered to be embellished upon; not the standard form of communication. The standard form of English is usually cut and dry and to the point, but in doing so I believe it often misses the point of language. Language is a representation and the very direct nature of English that tires to pin down ideas can lose sight of that. Chinese does not; it embraces the fact that language is representative to the fullest extent and applies sounds to metaphorical drawings; artwork really. Is one better or worse? No. But all this makes me want to never speak in anything but figurative language, for that is the only true language as all language is representative; anything else is an attempt to ignore this truth. I want to speak art… the bird that only sings.

Jump around. Do a bunch of stuff. Be happy.Naguib Mafouz’s The Journey of Ibn Fattouma is a travel story that engenders the idea that all things are transient and fleeting and thus the world can often seem very sad. Fattouma wants to find a way to overcome this sadness so he goes journeying in search of a way to live happily, yet finds there is no way of stopping sadness altogether. But for one’s self there is the choice to invest oneself fully in any ambition. By making one’s existence into a course of action one must concentrate fully and in this state one will be completely unconscious of anything but the given action, including sadness. This notion is a source of constant hope and inspiration for me. I know that if I feel down the best way to not be sad anymore is to invent something really engaging for myself to do so I’ll get totally distracted. I’ve come to realize that being sad doesn’t make sadness go away any faster or really remedy anything at all; it is just a wallowing act. In this way, happiness and sadness are not so much conditions as choices. Surely we do not inflict things that make us sad upon ourselves, yet when sadness comes our way it is totally our choice to either wallow in it or to do something to take our minds off the pain. In this light, everything is good and happy, for one only has to choose to perceive it such. While this is not always an easy thing to do, it is infinitely more rewarding and satisfying that letting sorrow weigh us down. That is why, in the spirit of this great notion, that I have invested myself fully in the creation of this little ditty that captures not only the essence of my life at the moment, but also the memory I have from a trip I took with all the best people I know.
“Bunny-Fox Ballad”
I ain’t got no time
To get old
No, no
I ain’t got, ain’t got
Ain’t got, ain’t got
No time, no, no, no (x2)

Summer days, Andrew Molera
Purple haze, you put your hair up
Pigtails, Big Sur, red wine
Back at home, redwood trees
Can still feel that ocean breeze
Oh, don’t you know we’ll do just fine?

I ain’t got no time
To get old
No, no
I ain’t got, ain’t got
Ain’t got, aint got
No time, No, no, no
I ain’t got no time
Girl it ain’t no lie
Don’t you know my love is true?

The bunny will hop and the fox will run
Top of the hill, obscure the sun
Don’t you know I’ll make that climb?
Even though I’m in a different scene
Each day’s closer to Halloween
Oh, don’t you know we play in rhyme?

I ain’t got no time
To get old
No, no
I ain’t got, ain’t got
Ain’t got, ain’t got
No time, no, no, no
I ain’t got no time
Girl you know why
All I wanna do is be with you

Inner peace; not to be found in our charactersIn A Phenomenology of Tourist Experiences, Erik Cohen explores the main modes of travel that humans exhibit either completely or in some combination when setting out from their homes. While reading the explanations of each of the five types I could not help but draw parallels between the types of tourism and the characters from the books we have read for class so far this semester. That is until I came upon the bit about the existential mode. It became apparent that none of the books we have read in class so far follow the events in the lives of existential travelers.
The closest any character comes to traveling in an existential mode is Winterbourne from Henry James’ Daisy Miller. Winterbourne, being an expatriate, has clearly found a “center” that speaks to him for otherwise he would still live in America and would not live in Geneva. But while he may find Europe suits him better than America, there seems to be a lack of evidence that Winterbourne finds spiritual nourishment from living there. A large part of truly being in an existential mode of travel is that one feels religiously and/or spiritually enlightened and/or refreshed. If one does not attain this state than one cannot truly be classified as being in an existential mode. Winterbourne may have such a sense from being in Europe, but it cannot be gleaned from the text with any confidence for it seems that he is much more concerned with social mores and the clashing of new and old generations.
It can also be argued that the expatriates of Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises are in an existentialist mode for they have adopted a new home in Paris that suits them better than America. However, much like Winterbourne, there is no sense of spiritual and/or religious growth, development, or stimulation of any kind. Instead there is a lot of drinking and sexual tension. It seems that Jake falls more into the experiential mode, for he lives vicariously through bullfighters, the only men he considers to actually live life to its fullest potential. He is true to his experiential mode because he takes great meaning and enjoyment from watching bullfights, but he never becomes a part of it himself.
Besides that, there really aren’t any characters that can truly be considered traveling in an existential mode. Sophie in The Evening of the Holiday travels in the recreational mode for she has every intention of returning back to her home once her vacation is over and she does just that. Marlow in Heart of Darkness travels in a bit of an experimental mode as he tries out the whole imperialism thing and finds it not to his taste and moves on to the next thing. Port in The Sheltering Sky is in a deep diversional mode as he sees no meaning in anything and his traveling makes that dearth of meaning just barely tolerable,, but even that does not last as he dies practically at his own will. Sal and Dean in On the Road are very experiential/experimental as they have adopted the lifestyle of making constant search the very meaning rather than drawing much from the ends of that searching. Furthermore, wherever they go they seek to “dig” everybody there to see what their up to, perhaps to live vicariously for a moment or so. This is also why Sal asks every girl he meets what she wants out of life; he hopes that one will tell him that she takes great meaning from life and thus will be living proof that such meaning does exist in the universe. Aschenbach in Death in Venice travels in a recreational mode so that he may “re-create” himself and go back to his duties at his “center” but is foiled by the alluring charms of Tadzio. Mary and Colin too fit into the recreational mode in The Comfort of Strangers as they hope to “re-create” their relationship with each other.
I think it is too bad we have not read anything about a traveler who exhibits the characteristics of a true existential mode. I consider myself to be an existential traveler who lacks the means to make my true center of authenticity my permanent residence. Given this I would love to have read some books that yield insight into the lives of those who found peace of mind upon arriving in a particular place and circumstance and how that shaped their lives and personalities.

Praying mantis engaging in sexual cannibalismWhy? Ian McEwan’s The Comfort of Strangers has left me chilled. I cannot get over the idea that someone would ever find another person who enjoys being essentially raped. Why does anyone want that? Beating your lover in the midst of sex is a mistake – completely inexcusable behavior. And letting anyone, lover or not, attack you is pathetic. The notion that Robert and Caroline play these roles for each other as a fantasy seems a symptom of utter insanity. McEwan also goes the extra step in suggesting that, despite their less extreme fantasies, Colin and Mary harbor similar emotions towards each other as do Robert and Caroline. While making love, Mary whispers to Colin about how she’d have a surgeon amputate his limbs so he’d be her sex slave. In response Colin whispers back that he’d have her captive in a cage with a mechanism that very slowly fucks her to death. Both of these are violent fantasies, though it is likely that Colin and Mary would never actually carry out them out. Perhaps they enjoy the just idea of violence in their love making. Maybe it provides a sense of contrast to the affection they show for each other. Maybe they feel vulnerable in showing affection and are compelled to introduce violent ideas to compensate.

But these are all just speculations. It cannot be known with any certainty why people have sadomasochistic fantasies and it is not clearly elucidated at all in this story. Also of note, the way the two couples’ hand-holding is juxtaposed shows similarity in the way both couples touch at each others’ fingers. Of course many couples hold hands in this way and it doesn’t necessarily mean anything pertaining to violence, but the parallel is still drawn for some reason. Mary and Colin may very well be the example of a common relationship and they are thrown alongside the unconventional Robert and Caroline in order to show that more than just those who have sadomasochistic relationships still fantasize about them anyway. It is also possible that McEwan is implying that all people cannot help but want to combine sex and violence to some degree, even if it is all metaphysical – any hints of violence come from voice, gaze, and body language – rather than physical. For that is just it; sex and violence are such physical things that they cannot help but be bound by their nature in our cognizance. This truth manifests itself in grey areas of pain and pleasure such as hickeys. Many women describe the pain experienced in losing their virginity as a good kind of pain.

But of course there is a threshold that most people do not cross, which Robert and Caroline certainly have. It is made very clear that it would be to their mutual pleasure if Caroline was obliterated by Robert. They come very close to doing so, but something prevents them from going all the way. Likely it would not only be the death of Caroline, but the death of the fantasy. So they cannot have their cake and eat it too. But they can still try. And they do so with Colin. Whether or not killing him fulfilled their fantasy is unknown, but likely only increased their appetite, for there seems to be a general trend of unrestrained behavior between the couple.

The ContinuumWe are all going to die one day. That notion is the driving force behind Thomas Mann’s protagonist, Aschenbach, in the story Death in Venice. That notion is also the impetus for the actions of many of the protagonists in the books we have read in class so far. Examples include Jake in The Sun Also Rises, Port in The Sheltering Sky, and Sal in On the Road. They are all are driven by this notion of unavoidable doom to make something of their lives while they still have them. While it can be debated that these characters were productive, lazy, right, wrong, good, bad, or otherwise, there is still a common thread for all of them. They want to forget or otherwise become unconscious of the fact that their death is destined, yet each has a different means of getting there. In Death in Venice Aschenbach has done the same thing all his life as a writer; a creature of routine and habit. In his growing age he begins to come to grips with this notion that he has created a cyclical lifestyle for himself and decides to break it by going to Venice. In doing so he seeks to have something different in his life and he finds it in his beloved Tadzio. In Tadzio Aschenbach sees a beauty that infatuates him to the extent that he cannot stop thinking about him and in these moments he gains a sensation of time-suspended, thus he has overcome the cognizance of his demise which he otherwise knows is ever approaching as does the reader given the story’s title. In The Sun Also Rises Jake is impotent because he fought for a cause he no longer believes in, he has a woman he loves but she won’t stay with him, he hangs out with guys like Robert who he doesn’t even like very much, and he cries at night because he knows he will die and likely unhappily. But he does not give up hope to live through his days despite it all. He takes solace in activities like fishing where a great deal of time must be devoted such that time cannot be considered; the fish bite when they do or not at all and one must wait and see to find out. Thus he overcomes a consciousness of his death for when fishing one cannot be concerned with the passing of time. He drinks quite a bit of alcohol as well, likely to subdue thoughts about his future death and a great deal of other thoughts as well. In the nothingness of his thoughts there is beauty that elates him past a focus on his death. In The Sheltering Sky Port is a man who attaches very little or no meaning to life. He privately romanticizes and revels in the idea of his death and in doing so feels he has overcome its approach because he does not fear it, but embraces it, perhaps even eggs it on. But he does not kill himself. He makes his death a thing of beauty, fashioning himself the fearless traveler who does not charge, but calmly and evenly strolls right into the core of the abyss as if he is above the impulse of self-preservation which cannot help but eventually fail. In On the Road, Sal, in the atomic age, has no reason to feel that his existence is in any way permanent and decides to live it up while he can. So he heads out on adventures with crazy man Dean to have crazy man times. Despite moments of utter self-loathing and feeling purposeless, Sal also has moments where he feels time has been suspended and thus that death is in no way near or even exists. He accomplishes this by taking drugs, having sex, and by being en route to a destination because it is in those times that his concentration can only be present and all else, especially death, become irrelevant. So that’s that. We all paradoxically face death and come closer constantly as we live. So I ask you: are you living or dying?

The road and chaosOften among especially good friends, certain words or phrases find their way into conversations repeatedly. These words and phrases often serve to capture the essence of the friendship or cause those involved in the friendship to recall shared past experiences. In this way, these words and phrases are something of an inside joke and thus much more meaning is attached to the words than just their definitions. It’s best when the words and phrases are vague or general or generally nonsensical to outside appearances because then the only people who can get in on the “catch” words or phrases are those that the originators of the words or phrases would want to befriend anyway. In this way, friends can determine who contributes best to their friendship. A great example of this “catch word/phrase” phenomenon of friendship is that which is shared between Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty in On the Road: to “know time.” Dean more than Sal goes on about knowing time, so of course it doesn’t make too much sense because Dean doesn’t make too much sense, yet, just like Dean, there is some method to the madness. When first mentioned, knowing time seems a very abstract concept that leaves more questions than answers. What does Dean mean when he says “we know time,”? How can one know time? Is it “know” on a factual basis or in regard to a sense of familiarity? But Dean uses the phrase more and more in context and it becomes clear that he regards the words as some sort of advantage or positive attribute that not everyone has; in fact only a small amount of people seem to know time. It also becomes apparent that one either knows time or does not know time. One must be born with some aptitude for knowing time, for knowing time cannot be taught and only learned. This must be true because no one, especially Dean, who throws the term around most, can really explain what knowing time is. However, it is likely that knowing time is like having IT. Dean goes on about how one horn player has IT and explains it has something to do with making a block of time into one moment such that people cannot help but give their undivided attention for life has become a simultaneous eternity and instant; while IT is happening IT is all there is and next thing you know IT is over and never to be had again. Ever. And that’s what travel is all about for them. Being on the journey, on the road, is like hearing awesome music, like eating a good meal and taking a nap after days being awake and starving, like feeling the infinite moisture of good sex. It’s living in moments of such intensity that it feels like everything at once, that the whole world is in one’s immediate presence and that even though there might be troubles and consequences it’s no reason to feel down and even though the end is always constantly growing nearer -- the end of a meal, the end of a high, the end of having sex, the end of a road, the end of life – it’s all worth it because the process was so damn unpredictable. Out on the road, the potential for everything is there and they know IT because they know TIME.

Here we find three entities in conflict, a dramatization of the story's charactersThe Sheltering Sky is a beautifully written and imagined tale about a group of three people traveling in North Africa. However, nothing good happens to them. Time after time these people encounter circumstances that, due to their self-conflicted personalities, they feel compelled to make complicated and generally unfortunate.
Port Moresby is a sad person. While not explicitly stated in the story, it is suggested that the death of his father was also the death of his motivation. He seems to want nothing from life but to travel, perhaps in the hopes that he will leave his troubles behind by outrunning them. Of course this idea is completely folly, but one can still try and that he does. Kit, Port’s spouse, is always afraid of the notion that the future is unknowable. She is constantly fretting about what will happen next in life because she doesn’t want to be responsible for anything bad. However, by fretting in such a manner she creates a self-fulfilling prophecy and becomes responsible for all her own pain. Because of this she seems hell-bent on having a bad time. Tunner is something of a straight man; while good-looking and charming, he is also very vain and accustomed to an American level of comfort and has his complaints about the African climate and living conditions.
Together, these people get along terribly. They are all afraid to speak their mind to each other and sexual tension runs high as both Port and Tunner vie for Kit’s attention. The characters’ lack of understanding about picking good travel partners is glaringly apparent. While one could argue that the social conflict between the three makes for interesting reading that is only true if one identifies with at least one of the characters. Personally I found all of the characters extremely immature and generally detestable, thus I found it quite fitting that they all had an ugly experience together; however that is not to say I found the process by any means enjoyable. Perhaps I am too blessed or have not lived long enough to experience the pains and suffering of life that Paul Bowles frequently evokes in this story, but it seems perfectly clear to me that his characters desperately needed to be open and honest with each other and themselves, confront their personal issues head on, and stop sleeping around.
In the case that this book is to serve as a cautionary tale, Bowles does an excellent job. From this story readers can learn a number of things to keep in mind while traveling: (1) travel with people you can be honest with, (2) in the case you cannot get along with the people you are traveling with, arrange a separation; don’t just ditch them without a word, (3) refrain from sleeping with whores, (4) refrain from committing adultery, (5) if you catch a deathly disease, cut your trip short and find a hospital, (6) don’t let random Arabs take turns fucking you in the desert, even if they give you sustenance and shelter, and finally (7) you cannot run from your personal problems by traveling – you’re you no matter where.