The travel fiction genre is much maligned by elements of the literary establishment. It is a shame though as despite there being many poor novels that tap into this potentially lucrative market, case in point Eat, Pray, Love by Elisabeth Gordon (I did’nt get past Rome I’m afraid), there is some good travel fiction around. Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi is one of them.Dyer’s style is unmistakably old school English, dry wit. As sharp as a bloody sharp thing and always readable, this is 2 separate stories juxtaposed together. The first, a very funny and entertaining erotic love tale set in that romantic city. The second is set in India’s most spiritual city. A less than subtle dig at those privileged Europeans seeking some devout awakening in a town situated next to a dirty river?; perhaps. Having been one of those visiting privileged Europeans, I did not find such inspiration (not that I was particularly looking), nevertheless, his description of the surreal images part of everyday life in Varanasi, is wonderfully vivid.
The first stanza is definitely my favourite however as Jeff, (the authors alter ego?) finds the woman of his dreams, and revels in the perfection that is the primary stage of 'boy meets girl'. But don’t mistake this for a wet romance. Well, it is wet in places, and as mentioned, there is gripping erotica. Hmmm, best move on.
Dyer has been described the by The Daily Telegraph, as the greatest living British writer. Lofty accolades indeed, which suggests I should try some of his other stuff, see here for the list of works.
http://www.contemporarywriters.com/authors/?p=auth233
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