THE ZANZIBAR CHEST by Aidan Hartley
If you just took a moment to think about the devastation wrought on Africa since the white man landed on its vast coastlines, you would weep. Britain, Italy, Germany, France, Portugal, Russia, America, Spain, Turkey: they have all left their indelible and catastrophic mark on the continent. Once these countries have wrought their havoc, bled the place dry of its resources, its people and its essence they leave. And really in our little Western worlds we think very little and very infrequently of that vast and diverse land mass. Our interest is really only piqued when we are full on exposed to the ravages of famine and drought, the madness and tyranny of its leaders, or the blood and gore and horror of its wars. And who brings us this news, who ensures we have full frontals of these events, who piques our consciences? The foreign press, foreign correspondents, journalists. Virtually all the journalists we have anything to do with in our daily lives are those attached to our daily newspapers and nightly TV news entertainment - reporting on the mindless trivia of local and national politics, chasing 'celebs' for nothing meaningful, commentating on the latest sporting event, reporting on the day's court cases - you get the picture. But out there, a long way from our comfortable and tiny existences are the real journalists - those that report on stuff that does matter.
Aidan Hartley is one of those real journalists. He is in the incredibly unique position of actually being a child of Africa himself. Descended from a long line of adventurers, explorers, soldiers and men of action who variously contributed to the ever expanding British empire, he also has that urge to discover, explore, do something different with his life and see the world. From seeing news footage from Vietnam on TV one evening in his teens, he knew that being a journalist was what he wanted to do. And he wanted to do it in Africa.
Due to his childhood in various parts of Africa and being his father's son, Aidan developed a very deep love for the land, its people and all the tragedies that have happened to it as a result of foreign intervention. As a young man he finally made it back to Africa and began his reporting career in 1988 as a stringer for the Financial Times in Tanzania. From that time on till the mid-1990s Aidan was on the spot to report, for our Western eyes and ears, on virtually every bit of conflict and catastrophe to hit Africa. And he pulls absolutely no punches about what he sees and how most of the mess that Africa is currently in is due to interference from the West and the total powerlessness and uselessness of the UN in 'mananging' the various conflicts. He sees too much death, brutality, hunger, poverty and waste. Including the deaths of many of his fellow correspondents and friends. He saves his worst for his reporting of the Rwanda massacres in 1997. Be prepared, it is not pretty reading.
There is absolute no doubt that his experiences have scarred him deeply. On his father's death, Aidan discovers a wealth of other stories in his father's Zanzibar chest and he intersperses his modern day observations with the tragic story of his father's close friend who also loved Africa intensely.
This is a remarkable book for the author's passion in telling his story, the catharsis such writing must have been for him, his ability to convey the horrors he saw, the sheer futility and waste of money, life, and energy that was going on around him, and the infinite variety of good and bad humanity he was exposed to. He does come out the other side, but it is a long and difficult road to that point. He has come full circle however; living happily with his wife and young children in Kenya. This is a very big book and will stay with you for a long time after you finish reading it.
THE BEACH by Alex Garland
The best thing about belonging to a book club is that you are exposed to books you would never normally pick up, let alone read. This book had been sitting on the table for a few months, and you know how you sort of get a gut feeling to take a second look, well I did, and then the person who owns the book told me I should read it without really saying why, so I took it home, looked at for a while then after a week or two, started to read it. Wow, what a read. I never saw the film 'The Beach' with Leonardo di Caprio as the lead character mainly because the reviews were pretty mediocre and the subject didn't really appeal - sort of Lord of the Flies (which I never liked) crossed with Blue Lagoon (too ridiculous).
The book, however, is more of a psychological dissection of what can happen when idealistic young backpackers, fueled with the local grass of choice, discover Utopia. You just know before you reach the bottom of page 1 that it aint going to end well! I was hardly surprised when I read that the author's mother was a psychoanalyst; this book is a fantastic study of the young back packer mind - the thrill of adventure, relying on one's own resources, the excitement generated by the discovery of new places, people and things, and the inevitable disillusion that sets in when this life is really not that much different from the life left behind.
Richard is English,in his early 20s, on what I guess is a gap year. With a life long interest and morbid fascination with the Vietnam War he decides to head to South East Asia, the story opening with his arrival in Bangkok in a typically seedy backpacker-ish part of town. It doesn't take him long to meet people, including one who gives him a map of the beach and where it is. Within a few short days he finds himself on The Beach - an unspoilt strip of shore line surrounded by cliffs and commercially grown and heavily guarded marijuana fields; the beach itself occupied by 30 other similarly footloose backpackers who live communally in harmony, surviving from the land and the sea, with the occasional foray back to the mainland. For quite some time the beach life is very peaceful and cooperation reigns. But the modern twentieth century world cannot be held at bay forever. It transpires that the arrival of Richard and his friends is the catalyst for everything to fall apart. Which it does in a most spectacular fashion.
It is fairly apparent that all the people on the beach have become slightly mad with the isolation, the communal nature of their hunter/gatherer existence, and the endless supply of drugs to smoke and probably poisonous own-brewed liquor to drink. Richard's obsession with the Vietnam war, video games, and his relationships with his equally strange fellow residents contribute to his own downward mental and emotional spiral. It is absolutely fascinating watching the inevitable train crash happening.
The author wrote the book based on his own back packing adventures in Asia, mainly the Philippines. He is very scathing of what Western style tourism has done in a short period of time to the beautiful coastal areas of this region, choosing to target his criticism at the beach resorts of Thailand. It is a little ironic that when the movie was made, the beach chosen as the site for the film was extensively excavated to produce the required look, and was apparently restored to its natural state by the 2004 Tsunami.
A truly worthwhile book to read, especially if one has ever done back packing of any kind, or spent time living in a 'tropical paradise'.
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