Bryson deserves full marks for courage. He walks. He covers vast distances in weather that would dismay a seasoned fisherman. He risks his life along wind-blown cliffs, looking down for surf lost in driven fog or slashing rain. No-one wet, cold and hungry can maintain their humour long. Bryson conveys his feelings with honest vigour, but veneers his stress with vivid descriptions of the environment he traverses. He struggles to make sense of British Rail [something even the natives have abandoned hope of achieving], more than once falling back on irregular bus services. He suffers a day's dogleg travel to cover a twenty mile distance because no connecting line exists. Still, he persists and is often enough rewarded to make the effort worth the time. And his descriptions of these events rewards the reader through sharing his reactions yet not pointing an accusatory finger. It's "the system" that's at fault.

As an American from Iowa, Bryson may be relied on to take a detached view of Britain. He's no royalist, but he has a strong affinity for the traditional. He admires old buildings and wants money spent to keep them intact. He grieves volubly over the supplanting of "heritage" buildings by modern steel and glass monuments to capitalism and modernity. In this vein, perhaps the best chapter is on Oxford - the town and the uni. He virtually takes you by the hand, leading you about the town, up one charming street or along "some forgotten lane." Regrettably, you emerge in a desolate square swamped by parked cars. Grungy shopping centres abound, and he [and you] find little refuge unless you choose the right pub. His anguished cry for Oxford, " . . . there is so much that is so wrong. How did it happen?" is
repeated throughout the book as variations on a theme.

His tour completed, he returns to his family in preparation for a return to America [he's now in New Hampshire - not Iowa - a telling point]. His British home in Yorkshire seems unsurprising in view of his travails in the South. He likes the North's warm-heartedness, although he admits it is manifested only over a long duration. He adores the scenery, but has never had to make a living from that land. His favourite town names are Northern ones and he'll leave with more than mild regret. Yet, at the end of this book, as he declares his bliss at returning to Yorkshire, one cannot but wonder whether the long journey was worth the effort [other than to produce the book]. Because this book is a journal of a pilgrimage, it fails to entice the reader to duplicate it. Bryson's superb wit and descriptive powers hold you to his side as he journeys. But on closing the pages, this reviewer felt no compulsion to emulate the tour. There are other places that appeal more and Byson's otherwise admirable account doesn't evoke a desire to divert from them. A wonderful book to read, but only once. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]


Not Bryson's best   January 17, 2006
 5 out of 8 found this review helpful

In his fifth book, Bryson finally does Britain. He opts for a rambling, unstructured sort of journey, done mainly by public transport and frequently on impulse. In the space of two months, he manages to cover most of the country, from Dover to John O’Groats, with the notable exception of Cornwall. In the process, Bryson uses anecdotes to flesh out the particular mannerisms of the British, such as their humour in hard times (they are, apparently, “the happiest people on the earth”) or their irrational excitement at the prospect of tea and cake.

As you’d expect, the book has some genuinely funny moments, such as Bryson’s attempts to communicate with Glaswegians, or his observation of how Brits give driving directions (“Follow the road past the reservoir and under the railway bridge, and take a sharp right at the Buggered Ploughman”). And the research behind the book is as thorough as ever. Few other authors would go to the trouble of finding out that England has lost 96,000 miles of hedgerows between 1945 and 1985, or that the population of Blackpool eats 40 acres of potatoes every day.

But these anecdotes and curious facts can’t disguise the book’s biggest problem: that the repetitiveness of Bryson’s travels get as wearisome for the reader as for him. I lost count of the times Bryson arrives at a non-descript town, books into a hotel, wanders round a bit, goes for a consolatory beer after finding the place rather disappointing, eats alone and rather bored in a cheap restaurant, and then wakes up to find the place marginally more interesting by day. It becomes too much like a routine, and the book doesn’t have enough people in it to give the reader an alternative to Bryson’s voice (a fault that the author acknowledges at one point when he compares himself to Theroux).

Bryson is also uncharacteristically bad-tempered at times, and it can be difficult to sympathise with him when he abuses a hotel owner for locking him out for an hour, or when he berates a McDonalds cashier for asking him if he wants an apple pie. Honest this may be, but it jars with the image we have of a wry, mild-mannered rambler. And Bryson is also unusually indecisive: he keeps telling you how much he loves Britain, but spends much of his time dwelling on its faults. If you are proud to live in Lulworth, Exeter, Weston-super-Mare, Milton Keynes or Bradford (“whose role in life is to make every place else in the world look better in comparison”), then you might want to pass over Bryson’s account of your home town. If you don’t, these parts are rather funny, but they still contribute to the idea that most places in Britain have “the same shops, the same television programmes, the same people in the same Marks & Spencer cardigans”. Bryson seems far more enamoured with Britain’s wilderness, history and eccentricities than modern British life, which comes across as tedious and drab. Notes from a Small Island doesn’t make you want to get out of your chair and go see more of England – and for me, that’s a failure in a travel book.


A tear jerkingly great review of our Island.   February 6, 2005
 7 out of 8 found this review helpful

This book marked my personal introduction to Mr Bryson, and it catapulted my in the realm of fanhood immediately!
I read it while travelling around the USA and it felt appropriate because of the huge number of American Anglophiles I met on my journey. I wanted to understand what evoked such fondness in the heart of an American for a Country I loved but was frankly glad to be turning my back on for a while, I wanted to experience what Americans saw.
Mr Bryson was the perfect tutor for wrestling with this unfathomable fondness I saw again and again, indeed he helped me to understand my very British disbelief in it's existance and my blinkered cynacism. His Juorney explores the beauty and splendour of Britain, as you would expect. Equally he demonstrates a humour laden fondness for all aspects of the British Psyche, the kind of stuff that as a Brit you could miss. The kind of stuff that as a Brit are foibles and quirks which are bread and butter, unquestioned irritations and means of dealing with the emotional world which are painfully avoidant but engrained in us and passed on.
My journey with Mr B, raised my interest in parts of my own country I had never seen but also raised my awareness of just how odd, silly, humouress and at times damn irritating the British psyche can be. Not that Mr Bryson sees it this way, he even seems to display a fondness for those jobsworthy, unhelpful, dyed in the wood characters with an innate suspiscion of all things "foriegn", the kind of characters make such a strong component of the British Tapestry.
Insightful, engaging, tear jerkingly accurate and succint with humour that needs prior medical recommendation (it's that good!; you really should have a crack at this book. I don't recommend, however, reading it when the lights go down on a night flight!


Genuine Can't Put Down Fun   October 24, 2004
 4 out of 4 found this review helpful

You know, it takes a foreigner to really see the idiosyncracies of another culture. Bill Bryson has caught the essence of the British character, and has that rare gift of being able to take the mickey out of us without causing offence. This is one of the funniest books I have read in a long time. I'm on the way to the bookshop to see what he has to say about other places. If I have any criticism, then it has to be that he did not spend enough time in Scotland, visiting more Scottish places and gently extracting the Michael. Please Bill, another volume on Scotland. Surely the Scots are eccentric enough to give you material for a book ? I say that advisedly..........I'm a Jock myself ! :o)


Rib-tickling!   August 25, 2004
 10 out of 10 found this review helpful

My friend bought this book for me to read whilst i travelled solo to the USA.As i had a 7 hour wait in NY airport, i got stuck in to this. I'm sure every Newark Airport worker and visitor at that time thought i was a stark raving English loony! This is a hilarious, tongue-in-cheek book which simultaneously made me cringe with embarrassment (yep, we Brits actually DO the things he says) whilst puffing my chest out in pride at being British! Bryson takes the reader on a tour around Britain venturing from one end of the land to the other and I really felt like i was there with him, through the strife and rain (of course). His narrative is informative (i learnt a heck of a lot about my own country...from an American! Of all people!) and comical. He introduces the reader to typical (and not-so-typical) British folk and ponders over such things as the unanswerable question of 'where have all the red telephone booths gone?'. I never realised that i had such a beautiful, diverse land for exploration on my own doorstep. A hilarious, rib-tickling book which literally did have me snorting aloud with laughter (and consequently ducking my head in embarrassment!).Great for reading whilst on your travels.It MAY make you want to come back home...