According to Mr. Paul Theroux a travel writer should be able to make a decent living if he's capable of making breezy generalizations. This I inferred from a paragraph about Prince Charles, one of the many people you meet as you journey across Asia through Mr. Theroux' wonderful travelogue. The author does not refrain from sweeping declarations himself, from "a country's pornography offers the quickest insight into the culture and inner life of a nation" to "Ugly and soulless, China represented the horror of answered prayers, a peasant's greedy dream of development".

I found myself agreeing with much of Mr. Theroux' impressions of India, especially the ones about modernity and development and what those concepts translate into on the ground. In other parts of Asia, in Sri Lanka and Vietnam for example, the author does sometimes display a bit of the western liberal's tendency to romanticize when confronted with the untouched countryside and laidback village life, but he then walks back, cognizant.

The book takes you from London, to Paris, Romania, Turkey, Mary, Tashkent, Amritsar, Mumbai, Chennai, Colombo, Rangoon, Bangkok, Hanoi, Kyoto, Vladivostok, Perm and then back to London through Berlin. Some of those cities are close friends of mine, some are mere acquaintances, most I will probably never meet. It is nice then to have an observant and tireless guide like Mr. Theroux show you around. He also is kind enough to take the time to sit down and talk to two of my favorite authors, Mr. Orhan Pamuk in Istanbul and Mr. Haruki Murakami in Tokyo. On the way we meet other colorful characters, an obnoxious environmentalist in the train to Jodhpur ("a gargoyle in horn-rimmed glasses") and a creepy pimp in Lee's Singapore. Speaking of Singapore, the writer gives the country a scathing treatment, portraying it more as an Orwellian dystopia than as the uber-efficient city state we all hear of.

Ghost Train to the Easter Star is an eminently quotable book, with several interesting thoughtful observations, both original and borrowed. It is also, like many books ambitious in scope, sometimes flawed in its generalizations. But that's okay. This is not a book on economics or sociology, it is a book of impressions, and impressions filtered through perspective are imperfect by definition.

An enjoyable read. Recommended.

Enjoyed 95% ( )

Kind of dragged at times but overall a great read... especially the chapters in India... great visuals presented ( )

His usual good stuff. ( )

Theroux retraces the route (with some exceptions) of his first train travel book [The Great Railway Bazaar] to muse on changes, both in places, and incidentally himself. The NYT published a scathing review of this book today. Much of it was an ad hominem attack on Theroux, and perhaps his tone, rather than his writing. I think he is an excellent writer, which flows from his powers of observation. He also is widely read which permits historical asides that enrichen the travel. Unlike the Times reviewer, I do not find Theroux arrogant, He is extremely competent and self confident and does not shade his opinions. People who are not comfortable in their own skins may mistake this for arrogance. He certainly has grown somewhat as a writer. His earlier writing was aptly described by some as relentlessly cranky. This book is less cranky; however, at one point he does react crankily to a description of his writing as caustic. In any event I do not mind crankiness as long as it is informed crankiness and Theroux's writing is well informed. The book gives you some additional insight into what he reads and what he thinks about other writers (other than Naipal). He visits Pico Iyer in Japan and they trade quips about other travel writers. If you enjoy travel writing then this is a great book by one of the best travel writers extant (I even enjoy his quirky fiction although I am not sure why) at the top of his game. ( )