How can a book about a man running around the whole world be so boring?
If this book isn’t badly written, then why is it still bad?
How far can humor carry a boring (and narcissist) story?
What happens when rich Europeans visit China at the height of the “Cultural Revolution”?
Who came up with the idea to spoil a fine travelogue with some contrived nonsense?
Is this author trying to show us how to alienate ourselves from our surroundings?
Can this book succeed in making migration seem a little bit less mysterious?
Can we really read about warfare as if it was just an adventure?
Is this how a cynic gets outsmarted by an even bigger cynic?
Is it possible to write a whole a book like a Roxette song, and should anyone read it?
Should travel writers deliberately look for interesting stories or just go with the flow?
Is this a great piece of poetic travel writing, or has it been overly polished?
Will the search for the “Russian soul” ruin an otherwise great book?
Is this book just about a physical feat, or is there something more to it?
Why is this book only for those who are really into environmentalism?