My favourite bits from Down the Yangtze

There are days when I like to write other people’s words. 

About the future
“Down the Yangtze the awful prediction has been fulfilled. You expect this river trip to be an experience of the past – and it is. But it is also a glimpse of the future. In a hundred years or so, under a cold uncolonized moon, what we call the civilized world will all look like China, muddy and senile and old-fangled: no trees, no birds, and shortages of fuel and metal and meat; but plenty of pushcarts, cobblestones, ditch-diggers, and wooden inventions. Nine hundred million farmers splashing through puddles and the rest of the population growing weak and blind working the crashing looms in black factories.

Forget rocket-ships, super-technology, moving sidewalks and all the rubbishy hope in science fiction. No one will ever go to Mars and live. A religion has evolved from the belief that we have a future in outer space; but it is a half-baked religion — it is a little like Mormonism or the Cargo Cult. Our future is mildly poisoned earth and its smoky air. We are in for hunger and hard work, the highest stage of poverty – no starvation, but crudeness everywhere, clumsy art, simple language, bad books, brutal laws, plain vegetables, and clothes of one colour. It will be damp and dull, like this. It will be monochrome and crowded – how could it be different? There wll be no star wars or galactic empires and no more money to waste on the loony nationalism in space programmes. Our grandchildren will probably live a version of China. On the dark brown banks of Yangtze the future has already arrived.”

The armchair traveller
“One of us was not busy. She was an armchair traveller who spent all her time seated, usually soaking herself in whisky.

‘I’ve known a lot of women like her,’ a man told me. ‘A hell of a lot of women. I’ve met them on trips like this. They go to Mongolia. They go to Pago-Pago. Peru. Sri Lanka. And they never do anything. We had one with us on the Galapagos trip. She never got off the ship! Can you imagine going to the Galapagos and not getting off the ship? It was a twenty-eight-day trip!’

‘Why do you suppose she came here?’ I asked.

‘To drink. Haven’t you seen her? She’s having a grand time, She’s got a whole box full of whisky sours. She stays in the hotel and drinks while we’re at the communes. The only thing is — she’s got to drink them warm. She doesn’t trust the ice. It’s got germs in it — that’s what she thinks. When it melts, the germs swim into her whisky-sour.’

An obsolete belief
“We talked about river superstitions. It was not easy. He did not want to give me the idea that people today were silly enough to believe any of this stuff. But I pestered him for frights and beliefs.

‘There was an old belief’, he said ‘that if a fish jumped out of the water onto the deck of a ship you could not eat it. Fish often jumped on to the junks. They still do, when they’re swimming upstream. Such fish were regarded as demons.’

‘Did they throw the fish ‘ I asked.

‘No. They had to take it ashore. Dig a hole. Then bury it.’

‘What do they do now?’

‘Eat them.’”

Paul Theroux, Down the Yangtze (1983)

The Picture of Dorian Grey

To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable. (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

How fragile and fascinating is the spirit of man! Few words from a stranger can thoroughly change your life, while vanity pushes you to murder. Dorian Grey is a charming young man who seems to have discovered the secret of eternal youth. Changing places with his portrait, the real Dorian gets to remain always young and handsome, while Dorian from the painting becomes hideous and old. Taking advantage of that, he decides to try all the pleasures of life, more or less moral.

The character I found most fascinating is Sir Henry Wotton, friend and tutor of Dorian, who sustains him through all his period of hedonistic experiments. His way of speaking is so compelling and original that I would have been content only to read his lines – so mean but hilarious.

Here’s a quote about 19th century’s women.

“I find that, ultimately, there are only two kinds of women, the plain and the coloured. The plain women are very useful. If you want to gain a reputation for respectability, you have merely to take them down to supper. The other women are very charming. They commit one mistake, however. They paint in order to try and look young. Our grandmothers painted in order to try and talk brilliantly. Rouge and esprit used to go together. That is all over now. As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter, she is perfectly satisfied. As for conversation, there are only five women in London worth talking to, and two of these can’t be admitted into decent society. However, tell me about your genius. How long have you known her?”

From my experience, every book has a critical point where, if I get stuck, I might not finish the novel. Usually that is a long description which, no matter how brilliantly written, it kills all my reading enthusiasm. In The Picture of Dorian Gray, the trap is a chapter, in the middle of the book, where the author drops completely the dialogue and starts a very long and detailed list about Dorian’s eccentric lifestyle and his conspicuous artistic passions. There were too many details about precious stones and fine arts for my relaxed brain. I hope you will appreciate more than I did Wilde’s high culture.

Though I feel tempted to say that the ending is predictable, it’s the noblest death Dorian could have.

You can find here more quotes from the book and here my review in Romanian.