J. Maarten Troost
Author of The Sex Lives of Cannibals: Adrift in the Equatorial Pacific
About the Author
Series
Works by J. Maarten Troost
Getting Stoned with Savages: A Trip Through the Islands of Fiji and Vanuatu (2006) 919 copies, 43 reviews
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Birthdate
- 1969 or 1970
- Gender
- male
- Education
- George Washington University (MA|1995)
Boston University (BA|International Relations) - Occupations
- consultant (World Bank)
author
anthropologist
essayist
travel writer - Organizations
- World Bank (consultant)
- Short biography
- Jan Maarten Troost (known professionally as J. Maarten Troost) (born 1969 in The Netherlands) is a Dutch-American travel writer and essayist.
From 1992-94, Troost worked as a correspondent for The Prague Post, where he wrote about everything from the dissolution of Czechoslovakia to the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina. He has also worked as a consultant to the World Bank.
Troost was born in Groningen, The Netherlands in 1969, and is of Dutch-Czech descent. He was educated at Boston University (B.A.) and The George Washington University (M.A.). He has lived in the Netherlands, Canada, the Czech Republic, Kiribati, Vanuatu, Fiji, and the United States, where, after a long stint in California, he presently resides in the Washington D.C. area with his wife and children.[from
J. Maarten Troost in Wikipedia retrieved 11/25/17] - Nationality
- USA (resident)
Netherlands (birth) - Birthplace
- Groningen, The Netherlands
- Places of residence
- Netherlands (birth)
Tarawa, Republic of Kiribati
Fiji Islands
California, USA
Prague, Czech Republic
Canada
Members
Discussions
Memoir-couple move to isolated tropical island atoll in Name that Book (May 2012)
Reviews
Troost—somewhat addicted to travel—jumped at the chance to move to Kiribati (pronounced kir-ee-bas) when his girlfriend got a job there. Troost is funny—and he can put a hilarious spin on just about the worst things imaginable (except he’s very serious about the tribute to the victims of one of the worst WWII battles there). Thankfully he has this outlook on life because Kiribati sounds about like the worst place on the planet to live. One of the most surprising things to know is show more that this island surrounded by beautiful blue ocean tends to be subjected to years-long droughts. Be aware the dogs are brutal, and are treated in kind unless they are eaten. So big trigger warning there. This is an excellent book, though, about what it’s really like living in so-called paradise. show less
Troost—somewhat addicted to travel—jumped at the chance to move to Kiribati (pronounced kir-ee-bas) when his girlfriend got a job there. Troost is funny—and he can put a hilarious spin on just about the worst things imaginable (except he’s very serious about the tribute to the victims of one of the worst WWII battles there). Thankfully he has this outlook on life because Kiribati sounds about like the worst place on the planet to live. One of the most surprising things to know is show more that this island surrounded by beautiful blue ocean tends to be subjected to years-long droughts. Be aware the dogs are brutal, and are treated in kind unless they are eaten. So big trigger warning there. This is an excellent book, though, about what it’s really like living in so-called paradise. show less
Lost on Planet China: One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation by J. Maarten Troost
Lost on Planet China, Troost’s third book, is a disappointing travel memoir, complete with ugly Westerner moments and a whole lot of post-modern displacement syndrome. There are a few redeeming moments of grace, and humor that does not come at the expense of the Chinese however, and these were strong enough for me to give this one three stars.
Troost’s first two books take place on islands in the South Pacific, where he lived off and on for a decade. The switch to writing a book about show more six months of travel within another country (and a large one, at that) rather than about living in/getting to know a foreign country seems to have been a bumpy one for Troost. In the first hundred pages or so he veers sharply from the past (South Pacific) to his present (Sacramento, CA) to China and back again. And again. I found myself wishing the book was about Troost’s move to Sacramento after 10 years in the South Pacific, because his writing about California was funnier and much deeper than his writing about China. He admits to having little background on China, and he doesn’t speak the language. And so, how to write a book about an enormous country that one knows almost nothing about?
Sigh. Troost falls into some common travel writing pitfalls. Particularly in the first half of the book, he sinks to describing every little cab ride, meal, and hotel he stays in. He seemed to be grasping for a way to add texture and knowledge to writing about a country he had simply dropped into. There are long passages of history and other information dropped in between cab rides or meals to flesh out chapters. I read a lot of books about China, and I didn’t think much of this information covered new ground or offered a unique perspective.
This is the only book I’ve ever read about China that made me NOT want to go. (And that’s saying something, because I *really* want to go.) Troost’s sarcasm and witty asides were somehow endearing in his first book, but I found him negative and cynical in this one. He wasn’t having a good or easy time in China, and while that’s OK – you obviously don’t have to like everywhere you travel to – as a reader, I had a hard time wanting to continue reading. The China Troost was describing was awful, and he was not really likable in that China, either.
While various friends and acquaintances pop in and out, Troost is traveling alone for much of the book, which makes his job that much more difficult: He’s got to make something actually happen. I give him credit for this. He goes out of his way to sacred mountains and islands, markets and temples, and eats (usually) whatever waitresses decide to serve him. But one gets the sense that it’s all for the sake of the story, that maybe his heart's not in it.
The interminable subtitle of this book “The Strange and True Story of One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation, or How He Became Comfortable Eating Live Squid,” reveals one of the major problems with this book, and (Sorry, Mr. Troost, you’re about to become a scapegoat) with some others I’ve read about China (and other Asian countries) in the recent past. What happens is this: Westerner who knows little about China drops in, armed with all kinds of preconceived notions. In the case of China, these tend to revolve around Mao, Communism, bicycles, isolated mountain villages, and sometimes martial arts. What said Westerners tend to find upon arrival (and remark upon ad nauseam) are thriving, crowded, ultra-modern, monied cities. Cities not unlike what one might find in the West, with all their problems and contradictions, only bigger. And Chinese. So thoroughly confused are these writers by the realities of modern China that we get strange comparisons: Beijing is like Washington DC with six beltways, for example. Troost unfortunately also has trouble reconciling the China he wants to see with the China he’s seeing. After some time in Beijing he flees for the site of a sacred mountain temple, hoping to find peace and serenity, only to discover that there is little peace and serenity in China these days. He seems to feel completely confused by this displacement and is constantly seeking some frame of reference. China at various points in this book gets compared to: Washington DC, Sacramento, Vermont, Japan, Tijuana, Russia, Mars, and more. No wonder he thinks the China is “the world’s most mystifying nation.”
All that said, Troost seems to come into his own, and this book, after he takes a break from the “real China” and visits Hong Kong. Hong Kong operates, in Troost’s mind, more like a Western city, and therefore he’s more comfortable and relaxed. He drinks in bars with other Westerners. He believes that going to Hong Kong is like taking a vacation from China. All of this somehow makes Troost appreciate mainland China more when he returns (partly because he’s got a buddy with him he can play off of) and the rest of the book is a little more fun to read. Troost actually seems to enjoy his travels in Southwestern China (away from the growing megacities of the east) and I did, too. He ventures to cities not often written about and those experiences seemed much more substantive than the meals and transportation woes he detailed in the first half of the book. Alas, Troost cannot hold on to whatever tentative peace he makes with China. Instead he comes to the realization that things could be worse, and that’s about as close as he can get to affection for the place. show less
Troost’s first two books take place on islands in the South Pacific, where he lived off and on for a decade. The switch to writing a book about show more six months of travel within another country (and a large one, at that) rather than about living in/getting to know a foreign country seems to have been a bumpy one for Troost. In the first hundred pages or so he veers sharply from the past (South Pacific) to his present (Sacramento, CA) to China and back again. And again. I found myself wishing the book was about Troost’s move to Sacramento after 10 years in the South Pacific, because his writing about California was funnier and much deeper than his writing about China. He admits to having little background on China, and he doesn’t speak the language. And so, how to write a book about an enormous country that one knows almost nothing about?
Sigh. Troost falls into some common travel writing pitfalls. Particularly in the first half of the book, he sinks to describing every little cab ride, meal, and hotel he stays in. He seemed to be grasping for a way to add texture and knowledge to writing about a country he had simply dropped into. There are long passages of history and other information dropped in between cab rides or meals to flesh out chapters. I read a lot of books about China, and I didn’t think much of this information covered new ground or offered a unique perspective.
This is the only book I’ve ever read about China that made me NOT want to go. (And that’s saying something, because I *really* want to go.) Troost’s sarcasm and witty asides were somehow endearing in his first book, but I found him negative and cynical in this one. He wasn’t having a good or easy time in China, and while that’s OK – you obviously don’t have to like everywhere you travel to – as a reader, I had a hard time wanting to continue reading. The China Troost was describing was awful, and he was not really likable in that China, either.
While various friends and acquaintances pop in and out, Troost is traveling alone for much of the book, which makes his job that much more difficult: He’s got to make something actually happen. I give him credit for this. He goes out of his way to sacred mountains and islands, markets and temples, and eats (usually) whatever waitresses decide to serve him. But one gets the sense that it’s all for the sake of the story, that maybe his heart's not in it.
The interminable subtitle of this book “The Strange and True Story of One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation, or How He Became Comfortable Eating Live Squid,” reveals one of the major problems with this book, and (Sorry, Mr. Troost, you’re about to become a scapegoat) with some others I’ve read about China (and other Asian countries) in the recent past. What happens is this: Westerner who knows little about China drops in, armed with all kinds of preconceived notions. In the case of China, these tend to revolve around Mao, Communism, bicycles, isolated mountain villages, and sometimes martial arts. What said Westerners tend to find upon arrival (and remark upon ad nauseam) are thriving, crowded, ultra-modern, monied cities. Cities not unlike what one might find in the West, with all their problems and contradictions, only bigger. And Chinese. So thoroughly confused are these writers by the realities of modern China that we get strange comparisons: Beijing is like Washington DC with six beltways, for example. Troost unfortunately also has trouble reconciling the China he wants to see with the China he’s seeing. After some time in Beijing he flees for the site of a sacred mountain temple, hoping to find peace and serenity, only to discover that there is little peace and serenity in China these days. He seems to feel completely confused by this displacement and is constantly seeking some frame of reference. China at various points in this book gets compared to: Washington DC, Sacramento, Vermont, Japan, Tijuana, Russia, Mars, and more. No wonder he thinks the China is “the world’s most mystifying nation.”
All that said, Troost seems to come into his own, and this book, after he takes a break from the “real China” and visits Hong Kong. Hong Kong operates, in Troost’s mind, more like a Western city, and therefore he’s more comfortable and relaxed. He drinks in bars with other Westerners. He believes that going to Hong Kong is like taking a vacation from China. All of this somehow makes Troost appreciate mainland China more when he returns (partly because he’s got a buddy with him he can play off of) and the rest of the book is a little more fun to read. Troost actually seems to enjoy his travels in Southwestern China (away from the growing megacities of the east) and I did, too. He ventures to cities not often written about and those experiences seemed much more substantive than the meals and transportation woes he detailed in the first half of the book. Alas, Troost cannot hold on to whatever tentative peace he makes with China. Instead he comes to the realization that things could be worse, and that’s about as close as he can get to affection for the place. show less
I kind of wondered what happened to J. Maarten Troost. I devoured The Sex Lives of Cannibals when it came out, and then every other year or so, I had another delightful dip into his blend of humor and travel. Then two years became three, became four ... and I kind of lost him on my radar.
Then I happened to bump into this on a "Recommended For You" list, and my wondering was answered.
This book is different from those first three. In the intervening years, he went from boyfriend to married show more with son, and more significantly, to an alcoholic. In this book, a retracing of Robert Louis Stevenson's journeys to the South Seas, Troost is not even a year into recovery, and he returns to the part of the world where he was happy. It's a travelogue that is more about his addiction than the islands, though they are certainly present. He walks us through the slippery slope, the cravings that still beset him, the justifications the non-rational part of his mind comes up with.
On one hand, I miss the funny, free-spirited expat. On the other hand, this has a different type of appeal, more somber and thoughtful. We see gorgeous sights. We meet some colorful characters: the man posing as a doctor seeking alternate medicine who's really trying to bilk the locals out of gold, the former French Foreign Legionnaire exuding violence as he serves his patrons, the Shark Boy who takes him swimming with hundreds of the same. But at the same time, we have reflections on the destruction of the environment and cultures. He looks at how global warming is literally disappearing his former home (the country of Kiribati).
It's a good book. I hope we see more from him, even though the lighthearted tone of his youth is probably gone.
But I do see that his subsequent book was expected to be published six or seven years ago, but hasn't been. That fills me with sad foreboding. show less
Then I happened to bump into this on a "Recommended For You" list, and my wondering was answered.
This book is different from those first three. In the intervening years, he went from boyfriend to married show more with son, and more significantly, to an alcoholic. In this book, a retracing of Robert Louis Stevenson's journeys to the South Seas, Troost is not even a year into recovery, and he returns to the part of the world where he was happy. It's a travelogue that is more about his addiction than the islands, though they are certainly present. He walks us through the slippery slope, the cravings that still beset him, the justifications the non-rational part of his mind comes up with.
On one hand, I miss the funny, free-spirited expat. On the other hand, this has a different type of appeal, more somber and thoughtful. We see gorgeous sights. We meet some colorful characters: the man posing as a doctor seeking alternate medicine who's really trying to bilk the locals out of gold, the former French Foreign Legionnaire exuding violence as he serves his patrons, the Shark Boy who takes him swimming with hundreds of the same. But at the same time, we have reflections on the destruction of the environment and cultures. He looks at how global warming is literally disappearing his former home (the country of Kiribati).
It's a good book. I hope we see more from him, even though the lighthearted tone of his youth is probably gone.
But I do see that his subsequent book was expected to be published six or seven years ago, but hasn't been. That fills me with sad foreboding. show less
Lists
Awards
You May Also Like
Associated Authors
Statistics
- Works
- 7
- Members
- 3,860
- Popularity
- #6,568
- Rating
- 3.8
- Reviews
- 177
- ISBNs
- 53
- Languages
- 4
- Favorited
- 8