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solliereads's review against another edition
adventurous
tense
fast-paced
2.0
Although the description of his travels are incredibly vivid and beautiful, I was extremely uncomfortable with the descriptions of his cruelty towards Modestine, the donkey, as well as his casual and flippant misogyny and the pervasive religiousness and egotism of the narrator. I found myself drawn in by his description of his travels and immersed very deeply only to have the illusion broken every now and then by his bigotry and cruel nature, resulting in a very dissatisfying read.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal cruelty
Moderate: Misogyny
jola_g's review against another edition
2.0
TRAVELS WITH MODESTINE
The literary trip to the Cévennes in France with Robert Louis Stevenson was a nightmare. I finished the book last evening and hoped it would turn out to be just a bad dream but nope, it still exists.
What I expected was a hilarious travelogue which inspired John Steinbeck to write his [b:Travels with Charley: In Search of America|5306|Travels with Charley In Search of America|John Steinbeck|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386924381l/5306._SY75_.jpg|1024827]. What I got was a disturbing, weird book I would love to forget as soon as only possible. Why? The foundation of Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes (1879) are three things which I hate, both in literature and life: animal cruelty, aggressive religiousness and mysogynism in neon colours.
The plethora of scenes with Stevenson beating and pricking his donkey, Modestine, a diminutive she-ass, not much bigger than a dog, the colour of a mouse, with a kindly eye and a determined under-jaw, was revolting. If they were intended as a source of comicality, they did not work for me. At first, Stevenson feels awkward about abusing the poor animal, then it becomes a routine:
I am ashamed to say, struck the poor sinner twice across the face. It was pitiful to see her lift her head with shut eyes, as if waiting for another blow.
My arm ached like toothache from perpetual beating.
Thither, with infinite trouble, I goaded and kicked the reluctant Modestine, and there I hastened to unload her.
I must instantly maltreat this uncomplaining animal. The sound of my own blows sickened me.
Just a few examples. To my mind, there is nothing funny in these passages. It does not help much to realize that Stevenson is disgusted with his own cruelty - he continues anyway. His sadness at the end, when he sold Ernestine, did not impress me much. In my opinion, the tear he shed was of a crocodile type. I am fully aware that the year was 1879 and we should not apply our standards but nonetheless, I felt awful.
Marcus Prime
Another issue I had with this book: I detest the type of religiousness Robert Louis Stevenson displays almost all the time: obsessive, ostentatious and obtrusive. He is hooked on the conflict between Protestants and Catholics. The Cévennes was the site of a Protestant rebellion around 1702 so it was an ideal place to reflect on that but he seems to be infatuated with the topic. There is a scene when he meets a French villager and instead of saying good morning he point-blank fires a question: are you Protestant or Catholic? I can imagine the impression he made on the locals. No wonder some of them escaped or did not want to talk to him at all. It did not weaken his self-esteem though: I did not know I was so good a preacher.
There are some vague allusions to a recent disaster in the author’s love life: How the world gives and takes away, and brings sweethearts near only to separate them again into distant and strange lands. I did a little investigation and it turned out that he was recovering from an affair with Frances "Fanny" Matilda Van de Grift Osbourne, finished abruptly by her reunion with her husband. Later she became Stevenson's wife but for the time being he thought everything was over and his solo hiking trip was planned as therapy. Apparently, it turned out ineffective: Stevenson’s passive-aggressive misogynism is evident. There are some hints, also intended as jokes, that the donkey’s complex personality is a consequence of her sex. Besides, just look at the way he describes a French woman:
And Clarisse? What shall I say of Clarisse? She waited the table with a heavy placable nonchalance, like a performing cow.
…or two little girls:
they were a pair of impudent sly sluts, with not a thought but mischief.
...or the way he sums up a conversation with a female interlocutor:
As for you, mademoiselle,' said I, 'you are a farceuse'.
Les Cévennes by Jean-Jacques Chambry.
In [b:Written Lives|529078|Written Lives|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348601693l/529078._SX50_.jpg|516775] Javier Marías discusses Stevenson’s chivalry – well, as it seems, he did not express it in his words. Beating Modestine was a creepy self-help technique to deal with sad memories: Once, when I looked at her, she had a faint resemblance to a lady of my acquaintance who formerly loaded me with kindness.
Besides, Stevenson hates children:
I approached a great oak which grew in the meadow, hard by the river's brink; when to my disgust the voices of children fell upon my ear.
…and dogs:
the sharp cruel note of a dog's bark is in itself a keen annoyance; and to a tramp like myself, he represents the sedentary and respectable world in its most hostile form.
Actually, the list of things that he does not hate is not very long. Add to that his know-it-all air of superiority and you will get the picture.
Stevenson’s style and some observations prove that he was a talented writer. I will have to dwell on his connections with Poland: he mentions my country twice, giving an accurate opinion on the political situation. Besides, I enjoyed his descriptions of the picturesque Cévennes and their scenery in early autumn and his general thoughts on travelling. The rest was really hard to swallow though. I respectfully disagree with Junius, the character of Steinbeck's [b:The Pastures of Heaven|186369|The Pastures of Heaven|John Steinbeck|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1390254507l/186369._SY75_.jpg|1508574], who read Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes many times and called it nearly the finest thing in English.
The Tamargue from La Souche, S. Baring-Gould. From A Book of the Cevennes, 1907.
The literary trip to the Cévennes in France with Robert Louis Stevenson was a nightmare. I finished the book last evening and hoped it would turn out to be just a bad dream but nope, it still exists.
What I expected was a hilarious travelogue which inspired John Steinbeck to write his [b:Travels with Charley: In Search of America|5306|Travels with Charley In Search of America|John Steinbeck|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386924381l/5306._SY75_.jpg|1024827]. What I got was a disturbing, weird book I would love to forget as soon as only possible. Why? The foundation of Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes (1879) are three things which I hate, both in literature and life: animal cruelty, aggressive religiousness and mysogynism in neon colours.
The plethora of scenes with Stevenson beating and pricking his donkey, Modestine, a diminutive she-ass, not much bigger than a dog, the colour of a mouse, with a kindly eye and a determined under-jaw, was revolting. If they were intended as a source of comicality, they did not work for me. At first, Stevenson feels awkward about abusing the poor animal, then it becomes a routine:
I am ashamed to say, struck the poor sinner twice across the face. It was pitiful to see her lift her head with shut eyes, as if waiting for another blow.
My arm ached like toothache from perpetual beating.
Thither, with infinite trouble, I goaded and kicked the reluctant Modestine, and there I hastened to unload her.
I must instantly maltreat this uncomplaining animal. The sound of my own blows sickened me.
Just a few examples. To my mind, there is nothing funny in these passages. It does not help much to realize that Stevenson is disgusted with his own cruelty - he continues anyway. His sadness at the end, when he sold Ernestine, did not impress me much. In my opinion, the tear he shed was of a crocodile type. I am fully aware that the year was 1879 and we should not apply our standards but nonetheless, I felt awful.
Marcus Prime
Another issue I had with this book: I detest the type of religiousness Robert Louis Stevenson displays almost all the time: obsessive, ostentatious and obtrusive. He is hooked on the conflict between Protestants and Catholics. The Cévennes was the site of a Protestant rebellion around 1702 so it was an ideal place to reflect on that but he seems to be infatuated with the topic. There is a scene when he meets a French villager and instead of saying good morning he point-blank fires a question: are you Protestant or Catholic? I can imagine the impression he made on the locals. No wonder some of them escaped or did not want to talk to him at all. It did not weaken his self-esteem though: I did not know I was so good a preacher.
There are some vague allusions to a recent disaster in the author’s love life: How the world gives and takes away, and brings sweethearts near only to separate them again into distant and strange lands. I did a little investigation and it turned out that he was recovering from an affair with Frances "Fanny" Matilda Van de Grift Osbourne, finished abruptly by her reunion with her husband. Later she became Stevenson's wife but for the time being he thought everything was over and his solo hiking trip was planned as therapy. Apparently, it turned out ineffective: Stevenson’s passive-aggressive misogynism is evident. There are some hints, also intended as jokes, that the donkey’s complex personality is a consequence of her sex. Besides, just look at the way he describes a French woman:
And Clarisse? What shall I say of Clarisse? She waited the table with a heavy placable nonchalance, like a performing cow.
…or two little girls:
they were a pair of impudent sly sluts, with not a thought but mischief.
...or the way he sums up a conversation with a female interlocutor:
As for you, mademoiselle,' said I, 'you are a farceuse'.
Les Cévennes by Jean-Jacques Chambry.
In [b:Written Lives|529078|Written Lives|Javier Marías|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348601693l/529078._SX50_.jpg|516775] Javier Marías discusses Stevenson’s chivalry – well, as it seems, he did not express it in his words. Beating Modestine was a creepy self-help technique to deal with sad memories: Once, when I looked at her, she had a faint resemblance to a lady of my acquaintance who formerly loaded me with kindness.
Besides, Stevenson hates children:
I approached a great oak which grew in the meadow, hard by the river's brink; when to my disgust the voices of children fell upon my ear.
…and dogs:
the sharp cruel note of a dog's bark is in itself a keen annoyance; and to a tramp like myself, he represents the sedentary and respectable world in its most hostile form.
Actually, the list of things that he does not hate is not very long. Add to that his know-it-all air of superiority and you will get the picture.
Stevenson’s style and some observations prove that he was a talented writer. I will have to dwell on his connections with Poland: he mentions my country twice, giving an accurate opinion on the political situation. Besides, I enjoyed his descriptions of the picturesque Cévennes and their scenery in early autumn and his general thoughts on travelling. The rest was really hard to swallow though. I respectfully disagree with Junius, the character of Steinbeck's [b:The Pastures of Heaven|186369|The Pastures of Heaven|John Steinbeck|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1390254507l/186369._SY75_.jpg|1508574], who read Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes many times and called it nearly the finest thing in English.
The Tamargue from La Souche, S. Baring-Gould. From A Book of the Cevennes, 1907.
mary412's review against another edition
3.0
I believe I read this after reading Travels With Charley, by John Steinbeck.
esme_may's review against another edition
adventurous
relaxing
slow-paced
3.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal cruelty
Moderate: Misogyny, Sexism, and Religious bigotry
Minor: Classism and Cursing
mark_lm's review against another edition
2.0
An underwhelming French travelogue by the famous author in his youth. RLS's descriptions are well-wrought, if not especially penetrating. It's short.
marilynsaul's review against another edition
2.0
Started out ok - I took RLS' donkey-abuse episodes as embellishment by the author, but got old quickly, and then became boring.
weaselweader's review against another edition
5.0
Robert Louis Stevenson beat Bill Bryson to the punch!
If Bill Bryson and Paul Theroux had lived in the nineteenth century and collaborated on a 12 day hiking travelogue of the mountainous Cévennes region in south central France, the result might have resembled Robert Louis Stevenson's TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY. Stevenson's hilarious account of his laborious travails with his relentlessly stubborn and self-willed but completely lovable donkey, Modestine, is both laughable and utterly charming. His recounting of the preparation of his equipment, most notably his sleeping bag, in preparation for that 12 day 120 mile trek is absolutely fascinating, particularly for a fan of lightweight wilderness camping in all four seasons. His mellifluous and detailed description of the rugged and often barren local topography is clear and concise and his narratives of the history and the sociology of the region that he has chosen for his long distance walk are meshed absolutely seamlessly with the anecdotes of his interactions with the locals along the route. Highly recommended for readers that enjoy literature in the travel genre.
Paul Weiss
If Bill Bryson and Paul Theroux had lived in the nineteenth century and collaborated on a 12 day hiking travelogue of the mountainous Cévennes region in south central France, the result might have resembled Robert Louis Stevenson's TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY. Stevenson's hilarious account of his laborious travails with his relentlessly stubborn and self-willed but completely lovable donkey, Modestine, is both laughable and utterly charming. His recounting of the preparation of his equipment, most notably his sleeping bag, in preparation for that 12 day 120 mile trek is absolutely fascinating, particularly for a fan of lightweight wilderness camping in all four seasons. His mellifluous and detailed description of the rugged and often barren local topography is clear and concise and his narratives of the history and the sociology of the region that he has chosen for his long distance walk are meshed absolutely seamlessly with the anecdotes of his interactions with the locals along the route. Highly recommended for readers that enjoy literature in the travel genre.
Paul Weiss
wyliem's review against another edition
adventurous
reflective
slow-paced
1.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Classism, Misogyny, and Animal cruelty
Moderate: Religious bigotry