Travels with Charley: In Search of America (1961) by John Steinbeck #NonFicNov25

🐩 When the itch of travelling came to John Steinbeck in the 1960s, he began a plan for a road trip journey around America. A camper-truck was made specially for him, which he named Rocinante - after Don Quixote's horse. For a companion, he brought Charley, his old French poodle (his real name was Charles - pronounced in French). The purpose of the trip, is to get to know more of his country, which he has written a lot, but not quite sure he has captured the true nature. Steinbeck started from Long Island, New York, then followed the outer border of the United States. In total, he encompasses 10,000 miles.

🐩 After furnishing Rocinante with everything he might need to be comfortable during the journey - he ended up bringing way too many - he started right away. The first transit was Maine. From there, he headed towards the Pacific Northwest. One of his (and mine) favorite is White Mountains 'with the prettiest villages in the whole nation'. While in Maine, Steinbeck observed that mobile homes was a new trend, he found many of them, parked on the open country (immune from town taxes). The park men only charged small ground rent plus fees for water and electricity. Steinbeck invited one of his 'neighbor' camper, a performing street actor, for a cup of coffee, and they had a very interesting conversation. He did that several times during the road trip, conversing with people, to get to know their views on many things.

🐩 Another interesting observation made by Steinbeck was how the writing of city signs reflected the character of the city. But his more important discovery was the lost of regional speech with local accents. He blamed television and radio broadcasted to the whole nation as the cause. People everywhere heard the same accent, and it immersed in theirs. "For with local accent will disappear local tempo. The idioms, the figures of speech that make language rich and full of the poetry of place and time must go. And in their place will be a national speech, wrapped and packaged, standard and tasteless." 

🐩 Although Steinbeck's main desire was to learn about America, he also made a not less important discovery. It's about Charley. I loved Charley! For me, he is the main attraction of the book (sorry, Steinbeck!) I loved the way he said 'Ftt', while waking up his master or attracting his attention. A truly French gentleman he is, always polite, gentle, and dignified. It was painful for him (physically and mentally) when he got prostatitis. It must have been humiliating for him every time he needs to pee, poor Charley! Anyway, Steinbeck got to learn an unknown side of Charley after an encounter with bears on Yellowstone National Park. It was a quite tensed moment. I, too, have had an interesting discovery. If you have read East of Eden, you might remember a secondary but not the least important character: Lee - the household old Chinese intelligent servant. Lee was actually the name of Steinbeck's childhood cook!

🐩 At last, Steinbeck's travels with Charley went beyond Steinbeck's dream (whose travels ever match one's expectation, right?) He wanted to learn about America, but could he conclude in the end, who, what, or how America was? It's not that easy. Steinbeck experienced one last shock before ending his travel; he experienced first hand the intense racism towards Negroes in the South. The amount of hatred he felt was enough to disgust and enraged him to, finally, soured his journey to and end, long before he arrived home. For me, the travels provided a first hand glimpse to America in the 1960s, but what pleased me the most is John Steinbeck's writing - incisive, eloquent, and witty.

Some quotes:

"It seems to me that Montana is a great splash of grandeur. The scale is huge but not overpowering."

- John Steinbeck fell in love with Montana!

"You can't go home again because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of memory."

Read for:

Nonfiction November 2025

hosted by Heather, Frances, Liz, Rebekah, and Deb

Neither Here nor There: Travels in Europe (1991) by Bill Bryson #NonficNov25

🎒 Bill Bryson is an American journalist and writers; he wrote a lot of travel books, and Neither Here nor There is his travelogue focusing on Europe. Bill had been backpacking to Europe twenty years before, as a student, together with his friend (disguised as Katz in this book). And this journey he took in the 1990s was partly retracing his former one. Along the journey, he'd stopped at the same place he had visited, comparing notes (then vs now), observing the people or city's characters, tasting the foods, visiting the landmarks, and sometimes elaborating a little on the historical, cultural, or political sides of it. Then he wove them into a caustic hilarious narration.

🎒 Bill started his journey from the north, in Hammerfest, in Norway, to catch the Northern Lights. It appeared to be my most favorite part of this book. Looking at it from Bryson's point of view, I think I would love to visit Hammerfest. The people might be slightly cool, keeping-themselves-to-themselves kind of manner, towards tourists. But hey, you go to Hammerfest for the atmosphere, not the people, right? I say, the Northern Lights would be one of the most serene and magical experiences I would have ever had in my life. It would be an unforgettable one. And I think I would love to stay in Hammerfest for a while.

🎒 This book was daubed as funny by some people, and though I don't appreciate Bryson's caustic humor, the early part of the book was indeed funny. The funniest one is when in Oslo, he found a bottle of chemical liquid at the hostel, confused of its function, and decided to wash his clothes with it. Apparently that was a toilet-bowl cleaner! People who're passing him said to each other: "You know, that man smelled like toilet-bowl cleaner" - and that's the kind of humor Bryson should have kept in the book, not by putting minor 'slights' to places he visited after that. One of these is when he grumbled about Brussels - he found nothing interesting there, and all he could say about it was: "The best thing that can be said for Brussels is that it is only three hours from Paris". Isn't it rude? He also observed "Thousands shops selling chocolates or lace (and they appear to sell nothing else in Brussels)". I wanted to yell at him: that's because they are famous for that! I would love to go window shopping for the lace, or is there a live demonstration of lace making one can watch or even try? And maybe buy some for me or souvenirs for my friends (who would appreciate the artistic beauty of handmade lace). And I'd love to suggest him to have a day of Comic Strip Trail - it would have been fun! Fortunately he loved Bruges and Spa (would love to visit those two if I would ever set my foot in Europe again!)

🎒 Bryson didn't appreciate France too. When in Paris, he grumbled about rudeness of the people. And that made me think about what John Steinbeck wrote in Travels with Charley: In Search of America (currently reading): 'Two people can be in the same city at the same time, yet the city that A had seen is completely different from B's version.' He's totally right, because my experiences about Paris was totally different from Bryson. I went there in 2000 (only several years after Bryson), and the French people I met were mostly amiable - at least in three occasions during my three days visit to Paris. People at the bistro when I had my dinner on the first night were very friendly, they politely asked me where I'm from, and things about Indonesia. We had a friendly chatting during the meal (though I'd have preferred to be left alone while tasting the first steak I've ever had in France). Maybe the key is always trying to speak in French, though imperfect (I spoke half in French and sometimes in English when I couldn't find the right word; which they patiently listened to me, and corrected me if I pronounced it wrong). I also didn't like how Bryson's friend Katz grumbling when they visited the Louvre - that it's paintings and paintings. Well, what did you think you'd find in an art museum? clothes?? That attitude always annoys me in people - but I let it go because Bryson and Katz were too young at that time. 

🎒 All in all, this is a book you'd like to read if you want to travel in Europe. Bryson did not plan the journey at all, and just following his instinct and needs with go-with-the-flow attitude. I think it only works when you're young and carefree. For a man his age, you'd need at least a little planning, booking the hotel in advance, for instance. But honestly, I won't give this book more than casual browsing, since I think Bryson isn't a person who would appreciate European as it deserves. He's too American at heart. Anyway, from the countries he visited - Denmark, Austria, Belgium, Italy, France, Germany, Liechtenstein, Yugoslavia (as green as England and as stunningly scenic as Austria, but almost wholly untouristed), Bulgaria, Switzerland, and Turkey were among them - I think the place I was most attracted to are Bern in Swiss (cultured town with antique shops, art galleries and antiquarian bookstores, fine homes and small parks), Capri in Italy (would have wanted to visit if I'm not middle aged; the hike up the hill would kill me), and Bruges and Spa (would love to visit those two I'd I ever step my foots in Europe again).

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐1/2

Read for:

Nonfiction November 2025

hosted by: Heather, Frances, Liz, Rebekah, and Deb

All Things Bright and Beautiful (1976) by James Herriot

 

💚 All Things Bright and Beautiful is the second volume of James Herriot's memoir as a veterinary surgeon in Darrowby village, in Yorkshire Dales. It begins a few years after the first volume, All Creatures Great and Small, ended. It was in the end of 1930s; Herriot has been in practice for three years, and is now quite settled with his new wife Helen. Helen's appearance makes a refreshing change of Herriot's narration. Sometimes, in between stories about rescuing animals and lambing, we would be entertained with the couple's domestic life, or even signets of Herriot's first courting of Helen. They now live in a bedsitter, just upstairs from the clinic. And that makes Herriot's boss Siegfried Farnon, and his brother Tristan. only appear occasionally in the picture. 💚 Like in the first volume, Herriot blended charming, funny, and sad stories of the animals he treated. But I loved this one much more than the first book, I don't know why. Maybe it's because Herriot has been more settled and confident than before, and people trust him more. And more importantly, he told about Siegfried's inconsistent and temperamental attitude less often than before. I loved it when Herriot he wrote about the animal's unique personalities. Like Jock the sheep dog who loves to pursue (almost racing with) vehicles. It's like a game for him. He would pretend he doesn't see James when he arrives, but soon after James' car is at full throttle, Jock would shoot out from his hiding like an arrow, and races happily for some times, exhilarated by the freedom. I can almost see the dog smiling widely in my mind. On the other hand, there's a vindictive dog called Magnus, who never forgets. I don't remember exactly what Herriot did to him - injecting, or claw-clipping? But the dog was angry with his treatment, and long after that he always regards Herriot menacingly.

💚 Put the animals aside, the owners' antiques often provide equally hilarious entertainment. There's a farmer who loves to show off his knowledge. Herriot must wonder for a few minutes every a sentence or two before grasping his meaning. For instance, the farmer would say semolina when what he means is Salmonella. On the next sentence, laboratory could mean Labrador, while biblical cord is actually umbilical cord! Each "word" sent me to uncontrollable laugh. We were entertained by good and generous farmers, as well as cantankerous ones. But my heart sank with Frank, a poor farmer but with steely determination to run a farm single-handedly. Yet, by only one cow disease, his dream of having his own farm vanished in only a few weeks. In times like this, Herriot felt the burden of seeing lives slipped away without being able to help. If only it happened two or three years later, Frank would have been successful. The modern medication was about to find its way to civilization, but not yet.

💚 Herriot was grateful to witness these arrivals of modern medication. One day he treated an animal with hopeless disease. The farmer has even contacted a person who usually put away the dead carcasses, and asked Herriot to put them away. But Herriot insisted on trying a new medication on them; there's nothing to lose anyway. The following morning, they felt like seeing a miracle! It was so satisfying a story to read - and no doubt much more satisfying for the vet. Speaking of "miracle", there's one hilarious story of Sigfried, who was operating a lamb's tumor on its rectum. It only took him a few seconds to perform; with no marks of an operation ever being done, yet the tumor was gone. It's hilarious to see the astonishment in the farmer's face - he's never understood how that had happened! :))

💚 I have been crying a couple of times too over some touching story. One over the death of an old horse with tetanus, the beloved of an old man. He chose Herriot to put the horse to sleep. And the other when reading the touching story about the salvation of an abandoned golden retriever, or about a widow who struggled for twenty years to maintain the farm, alone with her sons, after her husband died, and strived. What a triumphant story it was! But my favorite was perhaps when Herriot got a call on Christmas day, when he'd been hoping to spend the day in peace. The farmer was a poor one, living a simple life. Yet, it was then and there, that Herriot felt the spirit of Christmas was upon him. The simple farmers offered him simple refreshments, but with generosity and simplicity. It was a serene and warm moment!

💚 In short, this book is about the triumph and failure in life, both of human and animal. It's also about love, struggles, courage, and resilient. It's about the dawn of a new era; a scary future (war was imminent), but also hopeful. James Herriot ended the book beautifully with his leaving home to serve in the war (Second World War). One more time, just as what he done several times throughout the book, Herriot's pondering over the lush, picturesque scenery of Yorkshire Dales; of how he loved the land, and his life as a vet, and his wife. Herriot's eloquent writing shone on this final chapter, that I ended it with a deep sigh of satisfaction. It's truly a beautiful and heartwarming book to read! 

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Genderang Perang dari Wamena (1972) by Djokolelono: An Indonesian Children Fantasy #NovNov25

🥁 I have unexpectedly found this treasure while idly browsing through Google Playbook titles. It's a children fantasy novella by an Indonesian writer: Djokolelono. It has never been translated, so if you don't understand Indonesian, I can give you only my loose translation of the title. Genderang means drum; perang is war, and Wamena is a district in Papua. The story is told from point of view of two eleven-year-old boys: Adi and Yun (short of Yunanto). It's not clear where they live, but it is set in the 1970s. My guess is that they live in a small town. Adi has been living in the Netherlands; his father worked in a Dutch museum, and the family have only recently moved permanently to Indonesia. 

🥁 Yun is playing at his new friend Adi's, and it is a gloomy rainy day. They can't play outside, so Adi suggests they rummage at the backyard shed. One might find interesting stuffs in the shed - don't we know it! And they do! Opening a box in which Adi's father kept stuffs from the museum, they found a little drum. It's a traditional music instrument from Papua which is usually called tifa. Playfully one of them starts to beat it, and a strange thing happens. The player can't stop beating the drum, his hand goes faster and faster, while the other can't stop dancing on the tune. Then a white mist fills the shed, and the shed suddenly turns into a jungle. The boys are time-travelling to the jungle of Wamena in Papua, in the 18th century, following a Dutch expedition consisting of four white men and some locals.  

🥁 One of the Dutch men who was called Tristan van Allen, had stolen a drum, or tifa, a precious thing belonging to the chief of the tribe. The expedition leader told him to return it, as it would put the whole expedition in danger, but Tristan was adamant. Adi found from his father that the tifa came to his possession after being found years later by another group visiting Wamena, while the faith of the expedition itself was never revealed; they had just vanished. And now Adi and Yun are about to solve the mystery, as the tifa slowly reveals its history whenever the boys playing it. But it's not just a mystery, there's something menacing inside the tifa....

🥁 It was an exciting adventure to read! I kept forgetting that Adi and Yun are just elementary school students, they somehow sound more mature to me - like 17 or 18 years old boy, perhaps? Anyway, I was more interested in their one quarrel (the tifa foreshadows what's about to come; on the day the expedition members quarreled for instance, Adi and Yun quarrel too). The topic is about Dutch colonialism over Indonesia. Yun is expressing his hatred to the greedy Dutch, but Adi, who had been brought up in Netherlands, is saying that not all Dutch people are greedy, and that colonialism happens only when the locals aren't smart enough to detect their false politeness. This infuriates Yun, as his friend's implying that Indonesian are dumb. Well, I couldn't but pondering a lot about it afterwards, because it makes sense. And why the writer put it as the cause of quarrel? It might be a boyish quarrel (they are friends again the day after), but that was too serious a topic for a children read, don't you think? Anyway, this has been a fun read for me, and I can't wait to read more of the series. This novella is the sixth book from Weird and Wicked series, by the way.

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Read for:

Novellas in November 2025

hosted by Cathy and Rebecca

Agatha Christie Short Stories 2025: November Reviews #AgathaChristieSS25

I had a mixed feeling for my November reads for #AgathaChristieSS25. The Poirot one was dull, while the Tommy-Tuppence was as exciting as I would want to be in writing short stories.

The Kidnapped Prime Minister

It was during First World War, and when Poirot and Hastings were discussing about the assassination attempt towards the British Prime Minister, two government officials arrive. They ask him to locate the Prime Minister, who has been kidnapped during his journey to Versailles for a secret conference. His failure to attend the conference would be of immense consequence for the country, and might be, the world peace. The problem is, Poirot only has twenty four hours to do that. 

Once Poirot, Hastings, and two detectives arrive in France, instead of taking immediate actions, Poirot brings them to a hotel, where he sits down for four hours exercising his little grey cells. There are only two main suspects in this case, and after returning to London (what the purpose was of going to France in the first place, eluded me), Poirot makes inquiries to several cottage-hospitals, before locating the Prime Minister! As I said, it was a boring story. I wish Christie would elaborate it a little, sprinkling it with some actions or red herring. I begin to realize that Poirot's strong point is always his understanding of psychology, that his way of investigation isn't quite fit for short stories. 

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐

Blindman's Buff

Tommy and Tuppence, on the other hand, are in on an exciting adventure! Business is slacking at Blunt's Detective Agency, and they have just received warning from the Chief that their disguise has been apprehended by the enemies. Tommy, then, proposed to exercising their detecting skills. So, combined with his passion of using methods of fictional detectives, he put on a pair of black eyeshades, and testing his awareness of the surroundings only by the other senses - in short, he's practicing to be a blind man - while Tuppence's acting as his guide. In that manner, Tommy and Tuppence dine out at a restaurant, where two men (a Duke and his servant) approach them. The Duke hires 'Mr. Blunt' to rescue his kidnapped daughter, and insists on bringing both of them separately by car to his house.

The Duke appears to be merely a disguise, and the kidnap is a trap. He's the enemy, and he knows about the Beresfords' disguises. The question is, how would Tommy extricate himself from the enemy's pointed gun and the electrified metal floor which would be exploded as soon as one step onto? In the end, it's a wonderfully fun story to read, although, of course, I already knew the "solution" long before. It's quite childish, even, but still, it has action and suspense, and I always love the witty banters between Tommy and Tuppence. Tommy shines this time, with Tuppence a little on the background.

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2

In the Mountains (1920) by Elizabeth von Arnim #NovNov25

🗻 In the Mountains is an epistolary novella by Elizabeth von Arnim, which is structured as diary. The author, thus the narrator, is an English woman, who seeks refuge at her chalet on the Swiss Alps. It's post Second World War, and for some mysterious and dark reason, our narrator is depressed and longed for peace and solitude of the Swiss Alps to be cured. However, just when she feels quite refreshed after spending hours in languid nature while admiring the beautiful views and cold crisp air, our narrator becomes restless and lonesome. It's her birthday, and as she wants to be busy herself to avert her mind from "the thing", she gives the servants holiday. And it is when she's alone, two women clothed in black, arrive on the scene.

🗻 Mrs. Barnes and Mrs. Jewks are widows in their forties, who've been staying at a cheap pension on the valley. They are lost while searching for a better place, and what with the narrator's loneliness and the widows' apparent poverty, our narrator took them in, and they soon become friends, if not intimate acquaintances. The two women are opposite of  each other in personality. Mrs. Kitty Barnes is an upright honorable woman, while Dolly, her younger sister, is a charming, sweet creature who can't help marrying husbands-to-be, even when they were Germans. Her two failed marriages brought a scandal among friends and family, and that's where Kitty, unselfishly cut out her honorable life, and brought Dolly to a more neutral country: Swiss.

🗻 At first the three ladies spent, if not very amiable, a tolerable existence. But after few weeks, our narrator begins to feel the strain of being hostess. What with Mrs. Barness 's profuse gratitude for the hostess' generosity, but on the other hand tyrannically forced her will in the household cost-savings; not mentioning Dolly's meek smiles and agreement to all her sister's decision. In short, the narrator longs for a friendship instead of hostess-lodgers relationship, and the sense of sacrifice one must always endure. Meanwhile, secrets begin to unfold as the story's progressing - the guests' secrets at least; the cause of the narrator's grief and anxiety were never disclosed. 

 🗻 The Swiss chalet here served as the Italian castle in The Enchanted April, that is as a cure to whoever is staying in. One comes with a heavy heart, and after staying several months, one leaves it refreshed and, as in In the Mountains, with new and hopeful prospect for brighter future. And although this novella couldn't be compared with The Enchanted April - it's a bit dull, I must say - but I enjoyed the charm of the Swiss Alps, especially when the narrator's enjoying a peaceful, solitude, charming times alone there. The ending is perhaps a little bit forced, but it brings a sprinkle of sweet charms to the rather gloomy atmosphere - despite of the Swiss Alps - otherwise.

Relatable Quotes:

"It's true that the worst pain is the remembering one's happiness when one is no longer happy."

"Oh, I do so want to be wholesome inside again! Nicely aired, sunshiny; instead of all dark, and stuffed up with black memories."

"A man does seem to have more to say that one wants to hear than a woman. I do want to hear what a woman has to say too, but not for so long a time, and not so often. [...] A woman when she talks seems usually to have forgotten the salt. Also she is apt to go on talking; sometimes for quite a little while after you have begun to wish she would leave off."

"I don't know anything more happy than to be where it is beautiful with some one who sees and loves it as much as you do yourself."

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐1/2

Read for:

Novellas in November 2025

hosted by Cathy and Rebecca

Book Pairings #NonficNov25 Week 3

The prompt for the third week of Nonfiction November 2025 is Book Pairings, hosted by Liz. My choice is my second book for this event:

Seven Years in Tibet is a memoir of Heinrich Harrer, a mountaineer and Tibetologist. It tells his experience of his escape from war-camp prison in British-India during Second World War and his subsequent stay in Tibet for seven years, including his friendship to the Dalai Lama.

As I have mentioned in my review, I've always been fascinated by Tibet. It started, I believe, after reading Tintin in Tibet, a graphic novel by Hergé, in my childhood. And accordingly, that's the first book I'm pairing with Seven Years in Tibet. 

Tintin In Tibet is about the triumphant salvation of a Chinese boy by the strong friendship and loyalty of his European friend. Chang, Tintin's friend, was the only survival of a plane crash on the Himalayas. While everyone was skeptical, Tintin was sure he's alive. From Tintin in Tibet, I learned about the rough lives of Tibetans amidst the cold weather and high altitude. About their staple food of Tsampa (Tintin and Captain Haddock were served this dish on their first night on Himalaya). Also about putting out one's tongue as a way of formal greeting (Captain Haddock took it as insult, which, as usual, triggered him to anger and comical result 😁). And, it was from Tintin, that I heard about Sherpa; Tibetan mountaineers with superior climbing skills and extreme endurance for high altitudes, whom foreigners hire as guides. And yet another thing that I remembered as I uploaded the book cover here - the Yeti. Had I not been reading Tintin in Tibet, I wouldn't have had any idea what the 'ugly beast' that Heinrich Harrer had mentioned referred to, would I? I think Tintin had taught me more about the outside world more than any geography I've ever studied in school!

The second book in this pairing is my second read of Tibet during my college days: The Third Eye by T. Lobsang Rampa.

It's a story about a boy who was trained from childhood to be an Oracle (it's NOT an autobiography, as was mentioned in the cover). A "third eye" was operated on his forehead, which enabled him of clairvoyance, aura deciphering, astral projection, and the like. It is from The Third Eye that I first learned about butter tea, a staple warming brew of Tibet; and of their butter making. If I remember correctly, it is made of yak's milk, put into a bag made from yak's skin turned inside out. A combination of hard shaking and low temperature, changes it into curdles, which would form the butter. At least that's what I remember, I might forget any little details, but that's the gist of it. And of course, the book opened my views about living in a monastery, of dedicating one's whole life to religion in a clustered place.

However, its most interesting connection with Seven Years in Tibet is the fact that there had been doubts whether it was truly written by a Tibetan Lama. Heinrich Harrer had in fact made enquiries on the case, and found out that the real author was actually an Englishman called Cyril Henry Hoskin, who claimed that his body hosted the spirit of a Tibetan Lama called T. (T for Tuesday) Lobsang Rampa, and who had probably never even been to Tibet. Nevertheless, his book has helped me understand more about Tibet, its culture, and its simple people. No doubt too, that this book helps many people to acknowledge Tibetan's cause for freedom. And the Dalai Lama himself had previously admitted that 'although the books were fictitious, they had created good publicity for Tibet.' [source: Wikipedia]

An honorable mention should be granted to The Dalai Lama's Cat by David Michie, which I have read for #ReadingtheMeow2025. Here's my review. When Heinrich Harrer mentioned, in Seven Years in Tibet, about some Regents who were called Rimpoche (meaning 'precious'), I was instantly reminded to the cat who was adopted by Dalai Lama in this book. He was also called Rimpoche by a cafe owner in Lhasa.


And that is my book pairings, it's amazing how one's reading of nonfiction is enriched by so many fictions, is it? How about you, have you read fiction books related to nonfiction? Have you read any of my books?