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A review by nhnabass
The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot by Robert Macfarlane
3.0
This was a beautiful account of the value in wayfaring, wandering, and simply walking in our world. Macfarlane writes in some of the most beautiful prose I’ve ever read— I’d go so far as to say he really wants to be a poet, but has too much to say and can’t figure out how to get his point across concisely. The images he paints are stunning and sometimes perfectly encapsulate the wanderlust feeling of wanting to reconnect to our earth. However, far too often many of the stories he recounts are bogged down with unnecessarily weighty descriptions that led me to the dictionary every other page.
I do appreciate that in this account he does recognize the privilege one has to freely explore, especially when he acknowledges those in Palestine. He waxes about the importance of going back in time through walking old paths but glosses over how few people have the privilege and place to do that.
In his accounts from walking abroad, I will admit it was refreshing to see such a story localized in the east, told from a Palestinian native to refute the western perspectives of them. However, I still found myself wanting more from his stories abroad and wanting less of his native land at home as Macfarlane falls into that same trap.
The descriptions of nature felt so much more beautiful and ethically deep when he recounts walking in Europe rather than abroad— even in the chapter that takes place in Spain is so much more deliberate than the way he wrote about Palestine and Tibet- both felt they had elements of barbarism. He takes care to describe the primitive nature of living in these places: warfare, savagery, wild animals, dangerous roads all stood out compared to his seemingly idyllic journey in Spain. Where are the beautiful reminiscences of historical thinkers from these places?
Finally, despite the charming, thought-provoking nuggets that I have gained from this book, it felt too heavily weighed down by referencing others. He often quotes and refers to many a historian, artist, philosopher, environmentalist, thinker, etc. who has written nobly about the value of walking the old paths— yet not one was a woman or person or color. This work almost feels ekphrastic in how loyally it follows Edward Thomas. I didn’t care for the heavy handed bibliographical dumps and history, I understand the muse is there but it knocked a star off as I found myself losing interest in those sections.
I do appreciate that in this account he does recognize the privilege one has to freely explore, especially when he acknowledges those in Palestine. He waxes about the importance of going back in time through walking old paths but glosses over how few people have the privilege and place to do that.
In his accounts from walking abroad, I will admit it was refreshing to see such a story localized in the east, told from a Palestinian native to refute the western perspectives of them. However, I still found myself wanting more from his stories abroad and wanting less of his native land at home as Macfarlane falls into that same trap.
The descriptions of nature felt so much more beautiful and ethically deep when he recounts walking in Europe rather than abroad— even in the chapter that takes place in Spain is so much more deliberate than the way he wrote about Palestine and Tibet- both felt they had elements of barbarism. He takes care to describe the primitive nature of living in these places: warfare, savagery, wild animals, dangerous roads all stood out compared to his seemingly idyllic journey in Spain. Where are the beautiful reminiscences of historical thinkers from these places?
Finally, despite the charming, thought-provoking nuggets that I have gained from this book, it felt too heavily weighed down by referencing others. He often quotes and refers to many a historian, artist, philosopher, environmentalist, thinker, etc. who has written nobly about the value of walking the old paths— yet not one was a woman or person or color. This work almost feels ekphrastic in how loyally it follows Edward Thomas. I didn’t care for the heavy handed bibliographical dumps and history, I understand the muse is there but it knocked a star off as I found myself losing interest in those sections.