Oh, the places you’ll go. ~Dr. Seuss
My absolute favorite books—fiction or nonfiction—are ones that transport me to another place. James Herriot’s Yorkshire. Ignatius J. Reilly’s New Orleans. Twain’s Mississippi. The authors brought these places to life and we remember them. It’s not only because these stories are classics. I’d venture to say that they are classics partly because they evoke the setting in a captivating way.
Setting is the Goldilocks element of any good story. It should find a nice balance between not too much, not too little, settling on just right. Selecting the right details pulls me into the characters’ world. Most readers want to find common emotional ground with the main character, and that is an important first step. But if I can imagine myself there—hiking the PCT alongside Cheryl Strayed or onboard the Wilhelm Gustloff as it sinks, I will remember specifics about that story for a long time to come.
The location informs the characters. People are not the same everywhere. The weather, landscape, architecture, foods, flora, and fauna all serve to inform the culture. It’s why you might feel comfortable in Amsterdam but not Alaska, Santa Fe, New Mexico but not Santa Fe, Argentina.
Come along as we travel at the invitation of three authors. First, Ann Patchett takes us to the Amazon in State of Wonder.
At dusk the insects came down in a storm, the hard-shelled and soft-sided, the biting and stinging, the chirping and buzzing and droning, every last one unfolded its paper wings and flew with unimaginable velocity into the eyes and mouths and noses of the only three humans they could find. Easter [the name of a character] slipped back inside his shirt while Dr. Swenson and Marina wrapped their heads like Bedouins in a storm. When it was fully dark only the misguided insects pelted themselves into the people on board while the rest chose to end their lives against the two bright, hot lights on either side of the boat. The night was filled with the relentless ping of their bodies hitting the glass.
Next, we stop at a tenement apartment in Brooklyn with eleven-year-old Kim and her mother, freshly arrived from China.
A thick layer of dust covered the small kitchen table and wide sink, which was white and pitted. As I walked, I tried to avoid the brittle bodies of the dead roaches scattered here and there. They were huge, the thick legs delineated by the harsh shadows…
The walls were cracked, bulging in places as if they had swallowed something, and in some spots, the paint layer had flaked off altogether, exposing the bare plaster like flesh under the skin.
Despite its bareness, this room stank of old sweat. In the corner, a double mattress lay on the floor. It had blue and green stripes and was stained. There was also a low coffee table with one leg that didn’t match, on which I would later do my homework, and a dresser that was shedding its lime paint like dandruff. That was all.
I hugged myself with my arms. “Ma, I want to go home,” I said.
Lastly let’s go to Versailles with Alain Baraton, master gardener there for forty years, as he deals with the aftermath of a terrible storm.
Two young beech trees I had recently planted had been among the first to go. They were now smothered under the mass of a fallen cherry tree. My trees, once so orderly and upright, were now tangled and piled up on one another in painful chaos. They lay in agony, their roots naked and suffering, exposed to the air in a position I couldn’t help but find shocking. The laws of nature, which usually seemed so clement and productive, had been swept away in a climactic upheaval that had lasted only a few hours. Another revolution had struck the subjects of Versailles, and those “subjects” (as we often refer to individual trees in French) were going to die. They had been taken away in the space of a night and there was nothing I could do about it. Deprived of the garden’s protection, the palace itself suddenly seemed fragile.
Heart racing, I headed to Versailles’s botanical treasure chest, the Queen’s Hamlet. The surroundings had changed so dramatically that I had trouble finding my way. Nothing familiar had survived. The trees that once guided visitors through the garden were unrecognizable. Some of them lay on the ground; others had been displaced or crushed by their neighbors. Even the road was gone. In its place lay a field of mud where my boots sank to the calf.
Have books brought you to any memorable places recently?
Writers: I will be teaching an online seminar on setting and description this fall. More details to come soon.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Of the three excerpts you’ve shared, of course the one that intrigues me the most is the one set in Brooklyn. I might actually read that book the next time I travel to the West Coast.
I think you’d enjoy Girl in Translation. There were many scenes, especially the ones that take place in a clothing sweatshop, that stayed with me. The novel is semi-autobiographical, with many scenes coming directly from Jean Kwok’s life story.
I love to read books set in cold, wild places like Alaska – especially on a hot day! The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey transported me to a vast world of snow and ice. Just lovely!
Thanks for the recommendation! I just read a summary of The Snow Child on Goodreads. The author really immerses the reader in another world. Magical! I added it to my list.
Hope your move is going well!
Girl in Translation sounds like my kind of read – I’m drawn in already 🙂 I’m reading a book called Berlin Noir at the moment, set in 1930s Berlin. It’s a bit overwritten for my usual taste but I like saying “Ooh, I’ve been there, Oh, I know that place…” 🙂
There’s a book called Brooklyn Noir — a collection of crime fiction short stories by different authors. I wonder if Berlin Noir is part of the same series. (There’s also Paris Noir, London Noir, Boston Noir…all by the same publisher.)
It’s published by Penguin – the author is Philip Kerr. Could be!
Hi Jackie,
Oh, how I agree! And for those of us who might not be traveling over the summer (or any time) books can truly let us be armchair travelers. While fiction is my favorite, I find that memoirs with a strong “sense of place” can work magic like Frances Mayes’ UNDER MAGNOLIA. Happy 4th, Lorraine
What a terrific example, Lorraine! Frances Mayes is masterful at transporting her readers. She strings the right words with such precision that you don’t even realize it. Even her blog posts have the same transformative power. Happy weekend to you!
Didn’t know she had a blog — Jackie, thanks for that idea. Lorraine
Here’s the link for you: http://www.francesmayesbooks.com/
She blogs infrequently but when she does, it’s terrific!
Couldn’t agree more, Jackie. I love books that transport me back in time and to another place. A Constellation of Vital Phenomena made me feel like I was in Chechnya and it was a relief to realize I wasn’t each time I put the book down. Same with City of Thieves.
All the books you mentioned sound great.
Ooh, thank you for the book recommendations. I haven’t read either of those.
Hope you had a great 4th!
Warning: Constellation is bleak.
A good thriller with a vivid sense of place is The Quality of Silence. Set in Alaska, it made me feel cold the whole time I read it. 🙂
Thanks for the heads up. On the other hand, the Quality of Silence sounds like a good read for a hot summer day. 🙂
Yes “traveling” is a great reason to read! Did you read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Big Magic with the little story about her relationship with Ann Patchett and the setting of State of Wonder?
I remember that story from Big Magic. It gave me goosebumps. 🙂
I’ve always believed that if you aren’t able to physically travel because of personal circumstances, the quickest way to transport yourself into another world is through books. I love Ann Patchett, but wasn’t a fan of State of Wonder. I haven’t read Girl in Translation, but the description intrigued me. My TBR pile continues to grow. . .
Hope you had a good holiday weekend, Jackie.
I enjoyed Girl in Translation. At first it seems like a story we’ve all read before (a young immigrant has trouble adjusting to a new culture), but there were so many scenes that stayed with me. I believe that the story is semi-autobiographical.
Have a lovely weekend!
Great list of books and, I agree, I love books that help me discover new countries and cultures. I’ve never been to Japan so like reading Japanese literature. Best of luck on your summer courses!
Do you gravitate toward modern or classic Japanese literature? If you have any titles to recommend, I’d be interested in learning more. That is an area of the world I have read little about in novels.
I know a little bit of contemporary Japanese literature. If you haven’t read Hakuri Murikami’s work yet, you would like him (maybe start with Norwegian Wood?) and then there is a wonderful little novel by an author whose name I have forgotten but the title is The Guest Cat. I can’t think of other books right now and I’m not at home to look at my books but hopefully that helps!
Thank you for the recommendations! I read Murikami’s essays about running, which were excellent, but haven’t read any of his fiction. This looks like a great place to start.
I though his book about running was great too (and I don’t even run!). Hope you have a good week.
I meant on your Fall classes!