The Happy Isles of Oceania: Paddling the Pacific
by Paul Theroux
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The author of The Great Railway Bazaar explores the South Pacific by kayak: "This exhilarating epic ranks with [his] best travel books" (Publishers Weekly).In one of his most exotic and adventuresome journeys, travel writer Paul Theroux embarks on an eighteen-month tour of the South Pacific, exploring fifty-one islands by collapsible kayak. Beginning in New Zealand's rain forests and ultimately coming to shore thousands of miles away in Hawaii, Theroux paddles alone over isolated atolls, show more through dirty harbors and shark-filled waters, and along treacherous coastlines.
Along the way, Theroux meets the king of Tonga, encounters street gangs in Auckland, and investigates a cargo cult in Vanuatu. From Australia to Tahiti, Fiji, Easter Island, and beyond, this exhilarating tropical epic is full of disarming observations and high adventure. show less
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I tend to have a nonfiction book on the go with a fiction...read your daily chapter of the n/f then you can indulge in the latter. It says something about Mr Theroux' writing abilities that I shelved the novel (and it was a great novel!) to immerse myself in his travels around Australia, NZ and the various islands of the Pacific, culminating in Easter Island and Hawaii.
It's never boring. I'm trying to work out why he succeeds where other travelogues can be SO turgid. For a start, the whole adventure revoves around the author- HIS mindset, experiences at sea, interaction with locals and other tourists. It keeps the reader involved ...too much factual commentary can be like looking at someone else'soverly extensive holiday snaps...a bit show more of a yawn.
It's extremely funny too, as he delves into both the urban and the off the beaten track. Even a volcano is brought entertainingly to life:
"In the distance I could hear the volcano grumbling and eructating, the amplified belches like those of a fat man after an enormous meal; and these sounds of digestion were accompanied by distant crepitating rumbles like those of loosened bowels. The expression 'bowels of the earth' just about summed it up."
I think this is the apogee of travel writing. I shall be reading more of his works. show less
It's never boring. I'm trying to work out why he succeeds where other travelogues can be SO turgid. For a start, the whole adventure revoves around the author- HIS mindset, experiences at sea, interaction with locals and other tourists. It keeps the reader involved ...too much factual commentary can be like looking at someone else'soverly extensive holiday snaps...a bit show more of a yawn.
It's extremely funny too, as he delves into both the urban and the off the beaten track. Even a volcano is brought entertainingly to life:
"In the distance I could hear the volcano grumbling and eructating, the amplified belches like those of a fat man after an enormous meal; and these sounds of digestion were accompanied by distant crepitating rumbles like those of loosened bowels. The expression 'bowels of the earth' just about summed it up."
I think this is the apogee of travel writing. I shall be reading more of his works. show less
The third time I’ve read the book, and I’ve enjoyed it each and every time. Thoreau is seen as caustic by many, but tis those very same attitudes that make the book so interesting. For example, his knock on the Japanese is both contemplative and fully warranted.
He does not cover the full range of the Pacific, but does a good job of the islands he does get to. Having worked and/or traveled to three of his destinations, his observations seem justifiable to me....maybe I’m also a caustic old-timer....read in Sri Lanka, finished 27.01.2020.
He does not cover the full range of the Pacific, but does a good job of the islands he does get to. Having worked and/or traveled to three of his destinations, his observations seem justifiable to me....maybe I’m also a caustic old-timer....read in Sri Lanka, finished 27.01.2020.
This book is well researched and intimate, providing vivid descriptions of the many islands Theroux visited.
What Theroux captures so well is the marginal nature of the islanders, their sometimes pointless existence, and their inability to rise above their circumstances. He is particularly hard on the French colonial influence, especially in his chapters on Tahiti and the Marquesas. The Marquesas is where Melville based his novel Typee, and is also where Gaugin is buried (what a bastard he was!).
The islands are very difficult to reach, having steep cliffs down to the sea and no good harbors. At one time the Marquesas supported an estimated population of 80,000 people but it is now down to about 7,000. As with Easter Island, and as with show more the Mayan empire, The Marquesas is rich in archeological remains which testify to a complex but largely forgotten culture. Ecological disaster seems to be at the root of the de-population. Stone temples covered in thick vines can be found in inpenetrable jungle hills and valleys. Many of these sites have never been excavated, but most have been defaced by overzealous 19th century missionaries intent on whacking off offending penises and such. Most of the native islanders have never visited any of the sites, even the ones in their own backyards, and they have no particular interest in their history - such is the dissapating effect of missionaries and colonialization.
Here is what Theroux has to say at the end of his stay on the Marquesas:
“There is no cannibalism in the Marquesas anymore - none of the traditional kind. But there is the brutality of French colonialism…. The French praise and romanticize the Marquesas, but in the 1960s they had planned to test nuclear devices on the northern Marquesan island of Eiao, until there was such an outcry they changed their plans and decided to destroy Moruroa instead. It is said that the French are holding Polynesia together, but really it is so expensive to maintain that they do everything as cheaply as possible - and it is self-serving, too. Better to boost domestic French industries by exporting bottled water from France than investing in a fresh water supply for each island [there is an abundance of fresh water in the Marquesas]. That is what colonialism is all about… The French have left nothing enduring in the islands except a tradition of hypocrisy and their various fantasies off history and high levels of radioactivity..
“When France has succeeded in destroying a few more atolls, when they have managed to make the islands glow with so much radioactivity that night is turned into day, when they have sold the rest of the fishing rights and depleted it of fish.., when it has all been thoroughly plundered, the French will plan a great ceremony and grandly offer these unemployed and deracinated citizens in T-shirts and flip-flops their independence. In the destruction of the islands, the French imperial intention, its mission civilisatrice - civilizing mission - will be complete.” show less
What Theroux captures so well is the marginal nature of the islanders, their sometimes pointless existence, and their inability to rise above their circumstances. He is particularly hard on the French colonial influence, especially in his chapters on Tahiti and the Marquesas. The Marquesas is where Melville based his novel Typee, and is also where Gaugin is buried (what a bastard he was!).
The islands are very difficult to reach, having steep cliffs down to the sea and no good harbors. At one time the Marquesas supported an estimated population of 80,000 people but it is now down to about 7,000. As with Easter Island, and as with show more the Mayan empire, The Marquesas is rich in archeological remains which testify to a complex but largely forgotten culture. Ecological disaster seems to be at the root of the de-population. Stone temples covered in thick vines can be found in inpenetrable jungle hills and valleys. Many of these sites have never been excavated, but most have been defaced by overzealous 19th century missionaries intent on whacking off offending penises and such. Most of the native islanders have never visited any of the sites, even the ones in their own backyards, and they have no particular interest in their history - such is the dissapating effect of missionaries and colonialization.
Here is what Theroux has to say at the end of his stay on the Marquesas:
“There is no cannibalism in the Marquesas anymore - none of the traditional kind. But there is the brutality of French colonialism…. The French praise and romanticize the Marquesas, but in the 1960s they had planned to test nuclear devices on the northern Marquesan island of Eiao, until there was such an outcry they changed their plans and decided to destroy Moruroa instead. It is said that the French are holding Polynesia together, but really it is so expensive to maintain that they do everything as cheaply as possible - and it is self-serving, too. Better to boost domestic French industries by exporting bottled water from France than investing in a fresh water supply for each island [there is an abundance of fresh water in the Marquesas]. That is what colonialism is all about… The French have left nothing enduring in the islands except a tradition of hypocrisy and their various fantasies off history and high levels of radioactivity..
“When France has succeeded in destroying a few more atolls, when they have managed to make the islands glow with so much radioactivity that night is turned into day, when they have sold the rest of the fishing rights and depleted it of fish.., when it has all been thoroughly plundered, the French will plan a great ceremony and grandly offer these unemployed and deracinated citizens in T-shirts and flip-flops their independence. In the destruction of the islands, the French imperial intention, its mission civilisatrice - civilizing mission - will be complete.” show less
Despite the title, the book is often has veil of sadness, cynicism and disappointment. Theroux pulls no punches, and when he describes what he sees, it's more than likely through the lens of pessimism, no doubt coloured by his own divorce and sense of estrangement. Still, his voyage is impressive and courageous and he describes it with great detail. His hard look also make his praises stand out all the more - what a beautiful moment it must have been!
A lengthy, sometimes toilsome, read but ultimately rewarding.
A lengthy, sometimes toilsome, read but ultimately rewarding.
Admittedly this book was written at a sorrowful stressful time in the author’s life, his wife having just told him she’s divorcing him. So he’s very sulky as he travels across Oceania in his portable kayak that he carries with him as he flies from place to place. But that doesn’t excuse his utter lack of humility, and a serious superiority complex with his smug judgments about 90% of his encounters with folks. He starts by blasting New Zealand as a most dreadful place. And his favorite? Hawaii. Well, yeah, he splurged and rented a luxury room and hobnobbed with the richest people in the world. I could almost hear the name-dropping spilling on the floor. I did appreciate the travels, as I like travelogues, and his descriptions of show more places. And sometimes even his descriptions of people; honesty is not a bad thing. But judging a whole island of folks based on the few he encountered, well that unnerves me. I stuck it out because his kayaking was breathtaking. But sadly not enough to make this a book I’d recommend. I wanted to hear about his experiences in Samoa, and they felt about average for all his experiences. Islanders are fatty, fat, fat eating canned meat and tuna and cheeseballs, if we are to believe the author that this is true of every island dweller. So if you read it, be prepared. show less
I love Paul Theroux's travel books, and have been reading them for years. The railroad books enthrall me as I find train travel most enjoyable, but have ridden very few (if any) of the trains he has chronicled. In The Happy Isles of Oceania, Theroux takes us around the Pacific, visiting island after island (and I'll forgive him the conceit of referring to Australia as an island), and once again, I felt I was there beside him. I must say that this book does not portray most of the islanders in a favorable light, but the scenery is spectacular. My only experience with crossing the Pacific was as a teenager on the President Lincoln, 13 days from San Francisco to Yokohama, and we saw no islands whatsoever in the north Pacific.. On the show more return trip, my father and I did spend three days on Oahu, but that was so long ago as to be ancient history at this point. My point is that reading Theroux makes me feel as if I have visited all these "happy isles." Thanks, Paul, for a great adventure. show less
Theroux takes planes, ferries, helicopters, and his kayak around fifty-odd Pacific islands. As usual, he's critical of all he sees, occasionally hypocritical, observant but prone to overgeneralization, often unhappy. But, he experiences a lot, he gets into conversation with a lot of people without taking advantage of them, he's funny. I think what distinguishes this from the previous Theroux I read, "Dark Star Safari," is that Theroux overall very much enjoys his travels through the Pacific, and doesn't want them to end. The final set piece, of a total eclipse in Hawaii, is a little awkward, but still a cute ending.
> Paddling along, the sound of the paddle or the slosh of the boat would startle the fish, and they would leap from the show more water and skim across the waves, shimmying upright, balancing on their tails – more than one, often eight or ten fish dancing across my bow as I paddled towards a happy island.
> “If someone, say your mother, gets bad sick, you feed your pig a lot of food. Get him fat.” “Because you might need him for your mother’s funeral?” “Right.” I could just imagine a sick Tongan’s sense of doom when he or she looked out the hut window and saw the family pig fattened. “Also your horse.” “To be in the funeral procession?” “Not the procession but the feast. We eat the horses.”
> Even with my stinging arm in this choppy sea, I would rather be here among the cathedral-like contours of the cliffs on this high island than seeing its architectural equivalent in Europe – and I knew that the next time I saw Westminster Abbey or Notre-Dame I would be instantly reminded of the soaring Na Pali coast and miss it terribly. show less
> Paddling along, the sound of the paddle or the slosh of the boat would startle the fish, and they would leap from the show more water and skim across the waves, shimmying upright, balancing on their tails – more than one, often eight or ten fish dancing across my bow as I paddled towards a happy island.
> “If someone, say your mother, gets bad sick, you feed your pig a lot of food. Get him fat.” “Because you might need him for your mother’s funeral?” “Right.” I could just imagine a sick Tongan’s sense of doom when he or she looked out the hut window and saw the family pig fattened. “Also your horse.” “To be in the funeral procession?” “Not the procession but the feast. We eat the horses.”
> Even with my stinging arm in this choppy sea, I would rather be here among the cathedral-like contours of the cliffs on this high island than seeing its architectural equivalent in Europe – and I knew that the next time I saw Westminster Abbey or Notre-Dame I would be instantly reminded of the soaring Na Pali coast and miss it terribly. show less
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A sense of being beyond the reach of civilization comes when, in his intrepid kayak, off Easter Island and between the rock-battering surf and the Pacific, Theroux removes his headphones, ``hears the immense roar of waves and the screaming wind,'' and is terrified. A vast and contemplative book, seeing the ``Pacific as a universe, and the islands like stars in all that space.'' Informative not show more only for the voyager, but also for those wanting a new perspective on the Western continents of home. (Sorely lacking a map.) show less
added by John_Vaughan
The grand tour of Oceania ends with Mr. Theroux describing travel writing as "a horrid preoccupation that I practiced only with my left hand." He then proceeds to make the claim that "I was not sure what I did for a living or who I was, but I was absolutely sure I was not a travel writer." "The Happy Isles of Oceania," with its studiously cynical vision of paradise lost, should make excellent show more reading for those people who don't want to travel or don't like to travel. It will reassure them that it is best to stay at home and not think too much about how else they might lead their lives. Paul Theroux has long since mastered the craft of writing, but, after finishing this book, I found myself wondering if he will ever master the fine art of travel. show less
added by John_Vaughan
One journalist has cast doubt on Theroux’s account of his dinner with Dame Cath because he had neither tape recorder nor notebook at hand. However, speaking as one of his victims, I have news on that score. I ran into Paul Theroux in Port Moresby in 1991 and spent a few hours with him in shops looking at carvings, which I was there researching at the time. We chatted for over an hour, said show more our good-byes, and I thought no more of it.
What an bracing little shock then to find myself in this book. I have a different name and the place of our encounter has been changed, but Theroux has managed to record with uncanny accuracy what I told him. I imagine he holds conversations long enough in his memory to write them down as soon as he is alone. My page in The Happy Isles leaves me both astonished and mildly embarrassed. Did I say that those villagers on one occasion I recounted to him “almost shat in their pants”? Well, uh, I did. People who loose their tongues in the presence of writers have no right to complain. show less
What an bracing little shock then to find myself in this book. I have a different name and the place of our encounter has been changed, but Theroux has managed to record with uncanny accuracy what I told him. I imagine he holds conversations long enough in his memory to write them down as soon as he is alone. My page in The Happy Isles leaves me both astonished and mildly embarrassed. Did I say that those villagers on one occasion I recounted to him “almost shat in their pants”? Well, uh, I did. People who loose their tongues in the presence of writers have no right to complain. show less
added by SnootyBaronet
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Paul Edward Theroux was born on April 10, 1941 in Medford, Massachusetts and is an acclaimed travel writer. After attending the University of Massachusetts Amherst he joined the Peace Corps and taught in Malawi from 1963 to 1965. He also taught in Uganda at Makerere University and in Singapore at the University of Singapore. Although Theroux has show more also written travel books in general and about various modes of transport, his name is synonymous with the literature of train travel. Theroux's 1975 best-seller, The Great Railway Bazaar, takes the reader through Asia, while his second book about train travel, The Old Patagonian Express (1979), describes his trip from Boston to the tip of South America. His third contribution to the railway travel genre, Riding the Iron Rooster: By Train Through China, won the Thomas Cook Prize for best literary travel book in 1989. His literary output also includes novels, books for children, short stories, articles, and poetry. His novels include Picture Palace (1978), which won the Whitbread Award and The Mosquito Coast (1981), which won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize. Theroux is a fellow of both the British Royal Society of Literature and the Royal Geographic Society. His title Lower River made The New York Times Best Seller List for 2012. Currently his 2015 book, Deep South , is a bestseller. (Bowker Author Biography) Paul Theroux is the distinguished author of numerous award-winning books, including "The Mosquito Coast," "Kowloon Tong," & "Half Moon Street." (Publisher Provided) show less
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Common Knowledge
- Canonical title*
- De gelukkige eilanden
- Original title
- The Happy Isles of Oceania
- Original publication date
- 1992
- Important places
- Pacific Ocean; Oceania; Samoa; Polynesia; Australia; Tahiti (show all 9); Marquesas Islands; New Zealand; Trobriand Islands, Papua New Guinea
- Epigraph*
- God bless the thoughtful islands
Where warrants never come;
God bless the just Republics
That give a man a home...
Rudyard Kipling, The Broken Men
Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western star... (show all)s, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles...
Tennyson, Ulysses - Dedication*
- Voor Mee Ling Loo en Sheila Donnelly
- First words
- Er was in de Engelse taal geen goed woord voor dit hopeloze afscheid.
There was no good word in English for this hopeless farewell. - Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)Being happy is like being home.
- Original language*
- Engels
*Some information comes from Common Knowledge in other languages. Click "Edit" for more information.
Classifications
- Genres
- Travel, Nonfiction, General Nonfiction, Biography & Memoir
- DDC/MDS
- 919.504 — History & geography Geography & travel Geography of and travel in Australasia, Pacific Ocean islands, Atlantic Ocean islands, Arctic islands, Antarctica and on extraterrestrial worlds New Guinea and neighboring countries of Melanesia
- LCC
- DU23.5 .T47 — History of Europe, Asia, Africa and Oceania Oceania (South Seas) History of Oceania (South Seas)
- BISAC
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- Reviews
- 25
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- (3.72)
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- 6 — Dutch, English, Finnish, German, Polish, Spanish
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- Paper, Audiobook, Ebook
- ISBNs
- 22
- UPCs
- 2
- ASINs
- 20