The Gentleman in the Parlour: A Record of a Journey fro… (2024)

3.5

A Maugham travelogue - journeyed in 1923 but not published until 1930. It covers the then Burma, Siam and Vietnam.

Maugham was clearly aware of what he does best, and that’s character. Hence in Chapter 5 he comments that he could write a book on each of the countries he’s visited and fill it with information, “But what is the good of information that means nothing to you? Information for its own sake is like a flight of steps that leads to a blank wall.”

So despite this being a journey through exotic lands nearly a hundred years ago, it’s not the descriptions of the locale, or indeed the locals that hold most interest for me – for one town or village seems to differ only slightly from the one previous, and his comments on the native inhabitants are usually rather general; no, it’s the meetings with his fellow western travellers and expats where he comes to life. Telling us of their lives, why they are there, and the consequences of their decisions. Indeed many of the people and incidents he refers to would later reappear in more detailed short stories. Examples: One lonely man in Burma falls for a local woman, they live together and have children – but he will not marry her because he longs to return to England at some stage (see the story 'Masterson'). Another man tries to avoid his pursuing fiancée (who has travelled from England) by constantly trying to outrun her by travelling all around the Far East (see the story 'Mabel'). On another occasion (this time in Haiphong, Vietnam) Maugham meets up with someone he worked with in St Thomas’s Hospital in London many years earlier - someone who had left under cloudy circ*mstances. He is another man who longed to return to England, but on managing to do so longed to return back to the Far East (see the story 'Mirage'). And then, nearing the end of his journey, Maugham meets a seemingly brash American on board ship. He advises the American that he believes offence has been taken by some of the brash comments made to the other travellers; but Maugham is shown another side to the man’s character.

There’s even a fine fairy-tale as an interlude, which makes up Chapter 32. It appears in Volume 4 of Maugham’s Collected Short Stories as ‘Princess September.’

For a book of this era, Maugham shows himself to be a humane and not overly judgmental man. His early job in the London hospital surely served him well for his future occupation. The observations of locals come not from some crusty upper-classed Victorian snob, but are simply clear descriptions and thoughts of what he sees. Indeed he berates himself for one lapse in which he loses his temper. He's also not above knocking his own inadequacies with regards to descriptive writing - which is something he could not be accused of. Given his fascination with all people, I suspect it’s the language barrier that prevents not more first-hand accounts from locals.

There is one thing, however. If ever a book cried out for photographs it’s this one. I was sometimes unsure of the scale of a town or village and a picture would have helped. Maugham did have a camera with him as someone asks him at one stage to take a picture.

Maugham is, and I think always will be my favourite writer; mainly because he is so quick and so precise in the creation of character and setting. This may not be top drawer Maugham, but it’s still a fine read.

W. Somerset Maugham writes here of his travels in Southeast Asia in 1922-1923. Not until 1930 was the book published. He mixes fact with fiction. He did travel from Burma through Thailand and Cambodia to present-day Vietnam, departing by ship to Hong Kong, but that he traveled with his partner Gerald Haxton is not once mentioned. Does this truly matter? I don’t think so. Many authors have left out such information before. Maugham does seem to honestly reveal what he saw and experienced, both the good and the bad, frankly admitting his own shortcomings and stating clearly his preferences and personal interests. There is fact. There is fiction, and some information is simply left out.

Beginning in Burma, the route taken is via Rangoon, Pagan, Mandalay, Amarapura and Kengtung in northeastern Burma, on to Thailand visiting Ayutthaya, and Wat Suthat in Bangkok, on to Cambodia visiting Phnom Penh, Kep and of course Angkor Wat, on to present-day Vietnam visiting Saigon, Hue, Turan, Hanoi and Haiphong and finally departure to Hong Kong. He travels by train, mule, riverboat and for a short while by car. He shies away from the big cities. He visits more places than those mentioned, but you can see from those named his route. No pictures being available, I visited each via internet. Some of the places in Burma will take you breath away.

Maugham talks with those he meets along the way. Interesting characters! An Italian priest, a pudgy Belgian colonel, a circus owner, Monsieur le Gouverneur of a French colony who needed a wife and fast. Maugham runs into an acquaintance from his schooldays when he was studying to be a doctor. We are given a string of stories. Stories that are alternately amusing, interesting or philosophical in tone. In Bangkok he comes down with malaria, and we hear what the proprietress of the hotel whispers to the doctor—he must be moved from her hotel before he dies! He refuses opium, because that he had tried before in Singapore. In Ayutthaya, he is worn thin by the multitude of Buddhas shown him, and he says so. Some of the stories are, of course, more interesting than others. Some will appeal more to one reader and less to another. Maugham even throws in an invented fairy tale, which I found delightfully funny. It is the stories, some real and some fictional, that will determine how much you enjoy the book.

The book is less a travel guide than a description of what Maugham experienced as he made this trip. Right at the beginning, he indicates his view regarding the importance of "facts and figures". He meets up with a Czechoslovakian who proudly states, "He is a mine of information." Maughan asks him what he aims to do with all this information, clearly indicating his disdain. Maugham tells his readers that he will not provide us with a list of the species of birds and animals encountered, nor a scientific recounting of the flora. He admits he has little interest in the history of places, and he is no politician. What does interest him are cultural differences, for example between the English and the French, behavioral differences between those of the East and those of the West, reticence versus incessant talk, the value of silence, just plain ordinary people and more.

Maugham exceptionally well paints pictures through words. Such pictures enable a reader to grasp the feel, the atmosphere of a place. He does this through lyrical prose. A night spent on a sampan is delightfully depicted—we feel the roll of the boat under our own bodies, hear the gurgling and lapping of the water at the boat’s edge, see the colors as they fade from the night sky to be replaced by an array of brilliant stars.

The audiobook is narrated by Philip Bird. It is very well performed. I have given the narration four stars. He captures wonderfully how an Italian or a French person might speak English. He is fluent in French. He intones in such a way that a listener hears both the lyricism and humor in the lines. Nothing is unclear, and it is simple to follow.

Esta pequena preciosidade, numa edição antiga com o título “Cavalheiro de Salão”, veio-me parar às mãos de forma inesperada, ainda com as páginas por cortar.
Somerset Maugham leva-nos numa viagem pelo Oriente. Embala-nos com palavras muito bonitas, como um barco a navegar calmamente num rio.
A viagem, as pessoas, as histórias, as paisagens, as sensações; tudo é bonito neste livro.
“Pensei para mim que os homens são mais interessantes do que os livros, mas têm o defeito de não podermos saltar certos capítulos. Temos, no mínimo, de folhear o livro inteiro para encontrar uma página que valha a pena. E não podemos colocá-los numa estante e pegar neles quando nos apetece; é preciso lê-los quando a oportunidade se apresenta, à semelhança de um livro de uma biblioteca itinerante que é muito procurado, e temos de esperar a nossa vez para o ler e, quando o recebemos, não podemos ficar com ele mais de vinte e quatro horas. Podemos nem ter vontade de o ler naquele momento ou pode acontecer que, com a pressa, nos passe despercebida a única coisa que tinha para nos oferecer.”

Maugham was not known as a travel writer, he wrote novels. But he did travel to exotic places, in an era when travel was grand and everyplace was exotic, and he wrote about it. This book is the story of several trips: One up the Irrawady river to Mandalay in Burma, then a trek across the Shan mountains into what was then Siam, after that down the Mekong to Saigon and up then up coast to Hue in Vietnam. I enjoyed reading it because I just got back from Burma and saw both the Irrawady and the Shan mountains. But I also enjoyed reading it because Maugham is so funny, so typically English yet not. His descriptions are enjoyable and you feel like you are there with him enjloying that gin and tonic. But what he does best is tell the stories of the people he meets. He is really a fiction writer after all. He tells funny stories about the man who tries to run away from his fiance of 7 years. She follows him all over Asia until she finally catches him and marries him on the spot. And he tells sad stories like the sixty year old Italian priest living in the Shan mountains who rarely saw Westerners and would never see Italy again. Maugham gives us all these characters as a gift and through them we understand these exotic places we went to even better.

I read a Pan Books 1986 edition, (without an Introduction by another writer,) just a Preface by Maugham.
This account of Maugham's travels in the late 1920s is a valuable record of the place and time. All material for future novels. This is a good document detailing Maugham's travels, a rich source of experience to draw on. The book covers Maugham's travels between Rangoon in Burma, and Haiphong in Annam by various means of transport. Rangoon, now known as Yangon, Burma now Myanmar. Haiphong is still Haiphong, Annam was a French protectorate encompassing Central Vietnam. Before the protectorate's establishment, the name Annam was used in the West to refer to Vietnam as a whole, the Vietnamese people were referred to as Annamites.

There are many episodes worth covering here, but one will suffice.
'While riding a mule through the country in caravan - 'I could not put two thoughts together. I resigned myself at least for that day to make no attempt at serious meditation and instead, to pass the time, invented Blenkinsop.' About an invented author of no talent, writing a book quite unreadably boring but of purity and purpose became a best seller that nobody read. 'There can be nothing so gratifying to an author as to arouse the respect and esteem of the reader. Make him laugh and he think you a trivial fellow, but bore him in the right way and your reputation is assured.'

Едно време в английската гимназия, когато ни подготвяха диктовки за класни работи, често подбираха текстове от Моъм, тъй като има страхотен речник (т.е. със сигурност все ще има думи, които човек да не знае :) ). На кандидатстудентски изпити също се падаше често. И съответно ми беше оставил впечатлението на сложен автор с труден език... Вероятно защото повечето му известни книги са написани, когато той е вече в зряла възраст - над 50. И съответно досега не съм посягала инстинктивно към него. Реших да започна с не особено популярна у нас книга (мисля, че не е преведена на български) и не особено характерна за самия автор - "The Gentleman in the Parlour". Книгата е написана от Моъм по време на негово пътуване в Азия. Не е класически пътеводител, а е много лична - разказва за интересни и странни хора, с които се е запознал по време на това пътуване (и аз като Моъм се интересувам от хората и този негов подход ми хареса), както и за начина, по който човек се променя, когато пътува. Удоволствие е да се чете Моъм в оргинал, личи си голямата му обич към английския език, както и огромния труд, който стои зад изчистването на изказа до такава степен и създаването на неговия 100%-разпознаваем стил. Насладих се на неговата гледна точка (а и ми бяха интересни някои от нещата, които исторически са съществували по времето, по което той е пърувал, а сега вече са само част от историята - имам предвид например прочутите търговски канали в Банког, които днес за съжаление са вече само туристическа атракция). Не съм съгласна с некои от позициите на автора, например по отношение на Будизма, но не мога да не оценя високо стила му на писане. Книгата ме провокира да се запозная детайлно с неговото творчество:) А това само по себе си е чудесен атестат! Препоръчвам книгата:)

Wonderfully written travel book from a modernist master. Somerset Maugham devotes a great deal of his personality in guiding the reader through his fascinating travels through Burma, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and finally on a boat from Haiphong to Hong Kong, introducing us to the wide range of characters which he meets on the way.
Anyone who has worked in, or visited and admired these countries as I have will find this a treat from start to finish, since Maugham adds to your knowledge of them, and you feel your own thoughts solidify in the hands of a writer so articulate and erudite. It is also fascinating to see in some cases how much (eg Bangkok) things have changed, or in some cases how little (eg Haiphong). But the kernel of these places is exactly as the author describes, he captures their unique atmopheres. An absolute joy.

Um dos melhores livros de viagens que li, não apenas pela excelência da escrita, mas também pela mistura de descrição e reflexão, pelo humor e pela ironia, pela britishness, que tanto leva o autor a cumprir aqueles rituais muito típicos (como beber gin & bitters ou jogar solitaire), como lhe dá distância em relação a si próprio e aos seus compatriotas, pelos relatos dos encontros e das personagens com quem o autor se vai cruzando, pelas pequenas histórias, e também muito pela atenção, que nunca é afectada nem deslumbrada, do olhar que Maugham dedica às pessoas locais, aos seus usos e costumes, à cultura, aos hábitos alimentares ou de vestuário, dos povos e dos países que vai atravessando.

Hoping to learn someday if there's anything interesting about this book, b/c I sure didn't find it while reading it.

The Gentleman in the Parlour by W. Somerset Maugham

A single man?

In 1922 William Somerset Maugham by then already a very successful playwright, short story teller and novelist. Makes a journey from London to Ceylon and onwards to Rangoon and Mandalay, by mule to Keng Tung in the Shan state of north east Burma, from where he continues to Bangkok, Angkor Wat in Cambodia and onwards to Saigon, Hue and Hanoi in Vietnam and finally to Hong Kong across the United States and finally back to London.

He only got around to writing his account of this trip seven years later in the travel story ‘The Gentleman in the Parlour’. In the years in between he was very productive and wrote some of his most famous books as ‘The Painted Veil’ (1925) ‘The Casuarina Tree’ (1926) two full length plays and the novel ‘Cakes and Ale’ (1930)

High points in this travel story are his (mule) trip to upper Burma, his period in Bangkok and his description of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Aldo he tells us he has left himself at home he gives us a very interesting and personal account of his observations. But more than a traveller Maugham remains a story teller and writer, some of the stories he tells us from this trip he published elsewhere to, sometimes even before this journey.

So more than a travelogue this is a very carefully composed novel in the form of a traveler’s story. And also his observations tent to be very personal he is very careful about his private life. For instance there is no word about his companion. His eighteen year younger lover Gerald Haxton, how also was a great help on all his journeys. He always pretends to travel alone (with local guides and helpers) he actually never does. Like many famous travelers, such as Bruce Chatwin, V.S. Naipaul, Graham Green and Wilfred Thesiger, all pretending to travel alone, but all in the good company of lovers, wives and mistresses. Nothing wrong with that but it sheds a little different light on their journeys, and makes the travels of the few actual solitary wanderers all the more heroic.

All do complaining sometimes the periods of his travels though south east Asia must have been among the happiest of Maugham’s life. He is happy, healthy, in the company of his lover, enjoying country as well as city, confident, hopeful and full of energy. This novels tells us that too, the long line of works he wrote after this trip even so.

Reading Maugham's colorful descriptions of his travels in a small volume with yellowed pages easily lulled me back eighty years into the time he wrote which is so different from how one would go to SE Asia nowadays. Taking a break from writing fiction, he filled his journal with interesting stories of people he met along the way. I especially marveled at the former monk's recollection of collecting food in his begging bowl and the man who had to marry in a hurry in order to get a job. The beauty of his writing shown through each page; for example: "The coconut trees with their disheveled heads were like old men suddenly risen from sleep." Written from his heart, the journal felt like a way of getting a look inside his soul.

In the early 1920s, W. Somerset Maugham embarked on an extensive journey through mainland Southeast Asia, chronicled in his travelogue The Gentleman in the Parlour. This title, inspired by William Hazlitt's essay On Going a Journey, encapsulates Maugham's desire to escape societal constraints and immerse himself in the essence of the moment. His travels took him through a plethora of locales, including Rangoon, Pagan, Mandalay, Bangkok, Angkor (Siem Reap), Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), Hué, Hanoi and Hai Phong, among others.

Transportation during Maugham's time lacked the convenience of modern air travel, leading him to explore various means of transit across regions where borders were less clearly defined. While the majority of his narrative focuses on Burma and the Shan States (both are now part of Myanmar), his accounts of Siam (now Thailand), and Cambodia, as well as Annam and Tonkin (now Vietnam) are less detailed but still offer intriguing insights.

Throughout his journey, Maugham encounters a diverse array of individuals, both locals and Europeans, whose stories and hospitality leave a lasting impression. He delves into the nuances of their lives and cultures, often drawing comparisons with European customs without overt disdain. His encounters range from Europeans grappling with cultural dilemmas in their lives in the East to a solitary Italian priest spreading the gospel in the remote Shan mountains.

Religion is a recurring theme in Maugham's narrative, particularly his fascination with Buddhism, which he explores with genuine appreciation during his stay in Siam. Despite his observations on the similarities of Eastern cities and a perceived lack of distinct features compared to their European counterparts, Maugham acknowledges a lingering nostalgia in hindsight for certain aspects of his travels in the Eastern cities, a sentiment not evoked by European cities.

Reflecting on Maugham's account from a modern standpoint, it becomes evident that while some aspects of the places he visited have endured, others have undergone significant change in the course of a century since his journey. While Maugham's descriptions are not overtly racist, a subtle undertone of the superiority of European civilisation is present in his narrative, which I gather is a reflection of the prevailing attitudes of his time.

Finally got around to write a review for this. As a South Asian who’s great grand parents were possibly one of the little brown men the author fondly reminiscences, I found the whole narrative a bit condescending. The way he marvels over the architectural feats of the natives who needed the British to guide them into civilisation is clear indication that at no point he even entertains the idea that the natives are human too. But one may argue the author may have not imagined after little as three generations the natives might be critiquing his writing. So if you become empathetic and put on the shoes of a white man in the 1920s you begin to understand why he wrote so. His audience was white men and women who were stuck in there homes dreaming of adventures. So after I was able to look pass it, the book becomes a vivid description of a world I also yearn to visit. Where the poison of colonisation hasn’t yet sunken deep into the society of the natives. Where life is simple where you don’t have to impress, don’t have to worry, don’t have to succeed. Where a visit from a white man to the village is a reason to celebrate. For that reason I would rate it 3!

Gosto de literatura de viagens. Estranhamente, não consumo muita, não é pelas estantes onde se encontra, nas livrarias, que costumo passear a minha atenção. E, contudo, gosto quase sempre da que vou lendo, nem mesmo um livro menor como "A Formosa Lusitânia" de Lady Jackson me defraudou, enriquecido que está pelos venenosos (verrinosos?) comentários de Camilo. Este livro não constitui excepção. O que mais aprecio neste tipo de literatura é, quase sempre, o talento do narrador em salientar, por palavras, as paisagens, tipos, lugares, sensações. Para mim, que mal consigo descrever-me de forma minimamente intelígivel, tal constitui uma capacidade extarordinária. Nas mãos de um mestre como Maugham, os locais ganham forma e côr e cheiro e as pessoas têm pele e ossos e nervos. Trata-se de um livro datado, todo ele decorre num espaço e numa época assentes no colonialismo e numa clivagem de classes que hoje custa a aceitar como civilizados. Mas esse é, a meu ver, um bónus. É um bom livro, que não envergonha o Autor.

un viaggio lungo in asia: in birmania, thailandia, cambogia, spesso in condizioni disagevoli attraverso giungle, fiumi, piccoli villaggi, città caotiche. capitoli incantati e pure frizzanti si alternano a pagine noiosissime, in cui maugham racconta con dovizia di dettagli aneddoti poco interessanti o descrive spostamenti infiniti. mi hanno colpito la rapidità con cui ha liquidato luoghi stupendi come angkor e la scarsa attenzione verso parecchi posti [ma poi mi sono documentata e ho visto che si definiva un "bad traveler" in quanto mancante del "dono della sorpresa": "i travel because i like to move from place to place, i enjoy the sense of freedom it gives me" e mi sono resa conto che forse, il modo di viaggiare di maugham era troppo intimo per poterlo comprendere appieno leggendo i suoi libri sull'argomento]

I felt a bit sorry for Maugham here. The old boy doesn't really get much joy from any of the places he visits, and encounters several tragic and pathetic sorts of figures, who whilst he mocks, are really just a mirror of himself (maybe that was the point but I doubt it). I think his pompous prose is really overrated.

I always enjoy his work and was delighted to find this book. Didn’t realise it was travel rather than a novel and found it a bit harder read though enjoyable and quite an insight to travelling between the wars. Would be interesting to try and cover his journey today.

Nothing too exciting by today's standards when we have Rick Steeves and Michael Palin doing travelogues. What was quite different was how glad people were to encounter a fellow countryman when they were travelling. Nowadays, we may wish we were not seeing hordes of people at a temple or some other sight we want to enjoy. The narrative provided some insights on how Maugham himself behaved en route and how the he perceived the role of the UK in foreign lands. At one point he woke up a sampan operator and his wife so they could make him tea and take him out to experience being on the water at night and then he slept through the night while they ferried him around. He did understand that interfering with the way people ran their countries was often counter-productive to the long-term stability of those countries. Too bad the leaders in the UK and then the USA did not get that memo.

On the face of it, it seems like a fine concept – one of the best writers in the world writing a travelogue of his journey across South East Asia in the early 20th century. But once I got into it, I was a bit disappointed with what was actually written inside.

Somerset Maugham is one of the finest writers I’ve ever read, “Of Human Bondage” is honestly one of the best novels I’ve ever read, more of the most memorable and soul wrenching stories ever set down on paper. His other works have been no less spectacular – “The Moon and Sixpence” and “The Painted Veil” are masterpieces both. That said, I’ve read a few books by Maugham that have been less than satisfying – I couldn’t finish “The Razor’s Edge” or “The Magician” while “Up at the Villa” and “Cakes and Ale” were both quite dull reads. Every so often though I see his name and remember how “Of Human Bondage” kept me going through an enormously long journey in Japan a few years ago and decide to try him again.

“The Gentleman in the Parlour” is very descriptive, going into detail on the buildings and surroundings, the clothes the people wear, the food they eat, the weather – if this is your thing then you’ll enjoy the heck of out this book. For me, description is probably the thing I least enjoy about reading. I simply don’t care what people wear or how someone describes a sunset, and frankly it reads like a dull travel program minus the visuals.

Strangely, the parts where Maugham digresses and talks about the books he’s reading are the most interesting and reminded me of the essays that form his book “The Vagrant Mood”. There are a couple of personal stories from the people Maugham met on the road which I’m sure were once scandalous and racy but sadly in the light of the 21st century merely pale into dreariness.

That said, I did finish the book instead of setting it aside with a sigh. It’s immensely readable and Maugham’s style in this book is very chatty and amiable. It feels like you’re being told a story by a human version of Carroll’s Cheshire Cat. But overall I would rate it quite low in this writer’s list of great works and would instead implore the curious reader to pick up his more accomplished and beautiful books “Of Human Bondage” and “The Painted Veil”, the latter of which is set in South East Asia and is a far more entertaining book.

Agreed this is a book that will likely only be enjoyed by the uber-fan of Maugham. Essentially a travel diary filled with stories of Maugham's encounters with other Europeans along his travel route -- many of which become polished short stories at a later date. They are charming and insightful and witty, as one would expect, but sadly they are Anglocentric to the extreme. Maugham's world is one seen through thoroughly British eyes and his encounters with Asians are barely sketched in, something like a minimalist pencil drawing. Maugham eschews local foods in favor of tinned British goods found along the way, which he covets. At every opportunity, Maugham feels the need to insult: the costumes of the Vietnamese are beautiful but sadly uniform; Asian art may have aesthetic value but remains childlike in its tendency repeat themes; Burmese architecture has aesthetic merit but, well, who cares about the history of its many kings. Oh, Mr. Maugham, if I didn't love you so you'd have drawn my ire with this one.

I read some of the more negative reviews with dismay, because I quite enjoyed this short little travelogue. I am a Maugham fan, absolutely adoring The Razors Edge, but not appreciating the Summing Up (perhaps because I hadn't read enough of his books yet). I love the story of Maugham and am intrigued by his time.

I moved from the US to Asia a few years ago and have been to some of the places Maugham describes in this book, and have yet to explore some of the others (namely Angkor Wat and Burma). I actually found this book on the SE Asia travel section in the library!

What fascinated me most was that though the book was written in the early 20th century - so much is still the same! On the flip side, I really enjoyed reading about how tedious travel was, and how things were back in those days (e.g., in Haiphong, all Westerners arriving were printed in the newspaper!). Makes me appreciate how much of the world I get to see today with such relative ease.

This book is great fun to read, especially if you plan on doing a similar journey.

I had this book on my shelf for a while, and because I had a desire to immerse myself in the time period, I chose to read it at the same time as two others written in the 1930s; I wanted to immerse myself in the time period.

The Gentleman in the Parlour is a hard read for people conscious of the impacts of colonialism, imperielism, privilege and racism. (I found myself rolling my eyes and wanting to administer Maugham a slap regularly, but I knew what I was in for, so it didn't force me to put the book down.)

Some might also find the floral, playful, outdated language and syntax tedious or distracting from the story; I enjoy that, so it was often a delight to me.

Having enjoyed The Painted Veil, set in China, I was expecting an interesting travel book, and was disappointed. I found the first section on his trip through colonial Burma annoying; Maugham came off as too bwana-ish for me. Thailand wasn't much better as he came off rather cranky. The (unfortunately shorter) sections on Cambodia and Vietnam were the highlight for me.
I had been unable to get through his autobiographical The Summing Up as too dense to be worth it, so ... I guess I'm just not a fan of his non-fiction.

W. Somerset Maugham's travel collection Gentleman In The Parlour (1930) is an uneven collection of stories from the author's trip through what was then Burma and Siam, ending in Haiphong, Vietnam. As Paul Theroux points out in the introduction, he wrote the book several yeas after the fact and wrote the stories from the point of view of a solo traveler, even though he had a companion on that lengthy Asian journey. He does write about some of the local color, but he mostly focuses on cultural differences and the most entertaining episodes are about some of the characters he met on his journey.

I loved this book until the last chapter. Maugham has a beautiful way of turning a phrase and learning about the ways of travel was fascinating. Even though it is a book of its time about a colonial era, Maugham himself seemed benign and very much appreciative of the culture and people he encountered. Then the last chapter was like a sucker punch that seemed to be written by a totally different man, and that was hard to take.

Excelente escolha para companheiro de viagem por terras de Sião. Li e reli cada linha, sentindo verdadeiramente os mesmos odores, as gentes, alguns dos locais já percorridos, as cores...quase 100 anos após a aventura de S. Maugham, o Oriente não pára de me fascinar!!

Beautiful prose, gorgeous descriptions - how I wish I had travelled to Asia when Maugham did. Always a pleasure to read his Asian writings.

On a Chinese Screen described Maugham's journey on the Yangtze to the Chinese interior. Shortly thereafter, in 1922, Maugham took another journey, travelling from Taunggyi in the Shan state of Burma to Kengtung and then into Siam, trekking from Lopburi to Ayutthaya and on into Bangkok. From there, he sailed to French Indochina, with stops at Angkor, Saigon, Hue, and, finally, Haiphong. This book, The Gentleman in the Parlour, was the result, although it was several years after the trip before it was published.

In the Introduction to this edition, Paul Theroux comments on the perspective of Maugham's travel writings, noting that it is from a sole point view, while in reality Maugham travelled relatively comfortably and in the company of friends and associates. But that perspective of Maugham's, I suppose, is what makes this book work so well. As he describes venturing through mountain trails on the backs of mules, exploring the ancient ruins of Siam and Cambodia, and encountering the mysteries of Bangkok and Saigon, it all sounds more like an expedition, an adventure, rather than a mere traveler's report. And in all those places, Maugham captures the mysterious allure of the Orient he felt so strongly. In particular, he is at his strongest in describing the Moment, that time spent on a sampan during a Saigon night, the bewitchment of the ancient ruins of Angkor disappearing into the gathering gloom of evening, or the indescribably hidden unknowns of Bangkok that refuse to let themselves be known to the visitor.

I especially enjoyed his encounter with Bangkok. It has been almost a century since Maugham visited. I wonder what he would make of today's Bangkok with its eight million people? Back then, he already thought it populous like other Asian cities "with their straight streets, their arcades, their tramways, their dust, their blinding sun, their teeming Chinese, their dense traffic, their ceaseless din." The size of the city has certainly changed, becoming overwhelming with its populace. But the nature is the same as Maugham describes it. Only the Skytrain now substitutes for the tramways.

At the end of his journey, Maugham has brought his readers along on a metaphysical as well as temporal exploration of Southeast Asia. His vivid descriptions of people and places complements the insights into a different way of living and a different system of values for living in the Far East. Never did the divide between East and West seem more stark or beguiling than when examined through Maugham's eyes.

Good, but not your typical travelogue.

In 1935, author W Somerset Maugham traveled from Rangoon, Burma (now called Myanmar) to Bangkok, to Phnom Penh, to Cambodia and ending in Haiphong, Vietnam. This is not a normal travelogue of places to visit with history, dates of dynasties or battles. Maugham states "for what use are they". Instead, he tells stories of the journey and the surroundings and the people he meets along the way.

Day in and day out he journeys through jungles and valleys, crossing rivers, even losing a mule to the river current but it came back alive. The mule was then beaten by its muleteer for "showing off". He met many foreign people along the way. There's a story about George and Mabel in Burma, an Italian priest in the jungle, an expat who lived an hermetic life, a circus owner, a French governor, and a former classmate from medical school. He didn't write of any locals that he met unless they were secondary characters in a story.

While in Phnom Penh, he visits Angkor Wat but it was indescribable. He claims he writes simply with a small vocabulary. I beg to differ with him on this assessment. I found his writing to be with long sentences and unusual words. I did learn that anopheles are mosquitos; why didn't he just say mosquitos? Here is an example: "you are tickled to death at the sesquipedalian fancy that invented so many sonorous, absurd, grandiloquent terms". He does have some good descriptions and comparisons with scenes in England. Here is his description of the tropical rain: "the rain fell not as in our temperate zone, but with an angry vehemence, in sheets, storming down as though the heavens were emptying themselves of flooded lakes...For nature is the most powerful of all the gods."

Interesting journey once I understood his writing style.

This is something of a travelogue, describing a journey Maugham took through IndoChina in the 1920's. It conveys a sense of what it was like to travel in that part of the world at that time and is interesting for that reason, but as is always the case for me, the primary attraction is Maugham's prose--highly readable and clear. I always appreciate its pace and tone. It is somehow casual, but never familiar. As a reader, I sometimes feel as though I'm a fellow passenger on a steamer to whom Maugham has taken a liking, and so he shares tales as a way of passing the time.

As Maugham relates stories, he often interjects observations on life, society and human beings. These are thought-provoking and entertaining, without ever seeming to unduly slow the narrative. Witty and beautifully expressed, they often reflect the soft cynicism of a thoughtful but somewhat world-weary, urbane sophisticate. They also typically reflect tolerance and empathy, and skepticism toward social conventions and institutions.

I believe that, first and foremost, Maugham travelled to gather material for his fiction. I think the book reflects this. He was fascinated by Europeans who chose to live out their lives in the Orient. As a result, Maugham devotes a good deal of time to descriptions of his encounters with other Europeans. Readers who might expect detailed descriptions of the native cultures and histories of the lands visited on these travels are likely to be disappointed.

While I find that Maugham's works generally reveal tolerance and empathy, this book was written by a privileged, wealthy citizen of a colonial power traveling through a less developed, non-Western part of the world. There are some jarring moments.

I found this book, entertaining, but it will be primarily of interest to Maugham's fans.