This is the story of a man who travels the United States in the 1980s and records his observations with his sardonic wit. When viewed strictly in this sense, I was very disappointed. His comments about the people and places he visits are biting, harsh, and downright mean. Even when I agreed with him (and I did, a lot, especially his dismay at the lost places of his youth, the urban sprawl and same stores, the same roadside fast food joints, and so forth), it was at times, too much. About the only thing that made me avoid putting down the book altogether was that he was frequently insulting to himself - at least he is an equal opportunity offender.

Compare it to Blue Highways, a classic book of traveling across the country in search of a people, a place, and oneself. That author wrote with genuine affection for all of the people he met and places he visited.

However, the book is not about a man's trip around the US. It is about a man's search for home. He lived abroad for years, only to come home and find his homeland has changed dramatically. To come home and find your neighborhood changed, your grandmother's house demolished, etc, must be quite a shocker. Not that I excuse him for the nastiness, but it does make it easier to understand. It must be part of his grieving process. Though I have a sneaking suspicion he wrote it for a non US audience and this book is him making fun of us behind our backs.

When I put aside his disdain for all the people he met along the way, I found the book decent. I liked hearing about places I've been, and though I didn't care for the way he expressed it, I mourned along with him for the bits of lost American culture. ( )

I have been reading many travelogues lately and The Lost Continent was next on my list. I have read a few books by Bill Bryson before and I was looking forward to read his view of small town America.

I stopped at page 55 after Mr. Bryson's diatribe on how people in America do not pronounce the names of cities correctly, as if you have to pronounce Cairo like the city in Egypt and if you don't you are a "backward, undereducated shitkicker." I am not from a small town, but I found this to be the final negative comment I could stand to read. I decided that Mr. Bryson will most likely complain through the rest of the book, so I decided to stop.

"Blue Highways" by William Least Heat-Moon was a far better read about small town America both in prose and scope.

Two stars because I did enjoy a few pages, but otherwise it is just complaint after complaint for very little reason, if any. He tried too hard to be funny by being negative, but it did not work. ( )

Good but not his best. It was his first book and funny in parts not to the level of some others. ( )

Sometimes I read a book and think to myself "I could have written that," but I could not have done justice to small town travels the way that Bryson has. Admittedly, there are slow moments. Overall it was such a fun read and, in true Bryson tradition, I laughed out loud and forced my husband to listen excerpts as I went along. ( )

For those of us who live in large cities and dream of a bucolic life in small town America, this may serve as a cautionary tale. Or Bryson could be being overly snarky....... ( )