The Art of Travel, part one

I'm graduated! It's officially summer, which means my to-do list just got a heck of a lot longer and it feels like my room at home got a heck of a lot smaller.

My first literary endeavor for this project is The Art of Travel by Alain de Botton. I found it in a "little" bookstore in Uptown Minneapolis after finals were over. During senior week at St. Olaf, I made my way through the first chapters of the book between group meals, packing up my dorm room, paintball and laser tag trips, baseball games, nights on the town, a few parties (give or take a dozen)... oh and of course Graduation itself (cue annoying Pomp and Circumstance theme). 

A raspberry French soda (the author's current drink of choice) and de Botton at The Hideaway during a break from Senior Week shenanigans

De Botton's writing is very intriguing and I already have more quotes highlighted than I could possibly use on this blog, but one of my favorites so far comes from his section on the good and bad of anticipating travel. While on a long-anticipated vacation to Barbados, de Botton reflects: "I had inadvertently brought myself with me to the island... My body and mind were to prove temperamental accomplices in the mission of appreciating my destination. The body found it hard to sleep and complained of heat, flies and difficulties digesting hotel meals. The mind meanwhile revealed a commitment to anxiety, boredom, free-floating sadness and financial alarm"(19-21). (Please pardon the citations, I'm still definitely in research-paper-writing mode)

One of the most interesting aspects of de Botton's book is his integration of famous artists' and writers' work in connecting to various travel topics like "the exotic" or simply the process of "travelling places". In section two, which is "On Travelling Places," de Botton uses the work of American artist Edward Hopper, many of whose dark and captivating paintings "(and their resonant titles) suggest a consistent interest in five different kinds of travelling places: hotels, roads and petrol stations, diners and cafeterias, views from trains, and views inside trains and of rolling stock" (48-49). In describing the depth of Hopper's examination of train travel in Compartment C, Car 293 (1938), de Botton paints a written picture almost more descriptive than the painting itself, especially for those individuals familiar with train travel, like me: 

 "[Hopper] was drawn to the atmosphere inside half-empty carriages making their way across a landscape: the silence that reigns inside while the wheels beat in rhythm against the rails outside, the dreaminess fostered by the noises and the view from the windows - a dreaminess in which we seem to stand outside our normal selves and to have access to thoughts and memories that may not arise in more settles circumstances. The woman in Compartment C, Car 293 (1938) seems in such a frame of mind, reading her book and shifting her gaze between the carriage and the view" (54).

Compartment C, Car 293 

Edward Hopper, 1938

oil on canvas

This passage, among others I could have chosen for you, demonstrates a bit of why this book is taking me a while to get through, despite the fascinating topics: the language is so delicious it's practically edible, but being such, you really have to savor every sentence. 

So, more on The Art of Travel after a few lighter quick reads (some from "the list" and others notsomuch).

Note: If you're interested in reading what seems to be a re-publication of the Hopper section from The Art of Travel, it seems I stumbled upon it when I searched for the Hopper image for this post, so here it is: Alain de Botton on Edward Hopper