On The Plain Of Snakes: A Mexican Journey

Paul Theroux drives a Buick across the entire 2000-mile border from the Pacific to the Gulf of Mexico, bouncing back and forth between the US and Mexico, where the first world fights to block out the third world, and great cruelty and vengeance takes place on both sides as hundreds of thousands seek sanctuary and hope. From there he goes deep into Mexico (“stay longer, travel deeper” is his ethos), driving through and meeting people along the way in places like San Luis Potosi, Mexico City, San Miguel de Allende, Oaxaca and Puebla, and all the way to the southern border of Chiapas, where he surveys the country’s poorest state and where the long migration from Guatemala to the US begins. While in Chiapas, he also convenes with the Zapatista army. Theroux writes eloquently and introspectively about Mexico’s history, culture, and people. He finds common cause with the people and their plight, he makes friends, and seems to develop a genuine love and adoration for the country and especially its working class people. Through Theroux’s lens, the book also serves as a pretty good survey on Mexican literature. He leads a 10-day writing workshop and spends time with contemporary Mexican artists and writers such as Francisco Toledo, Guadalupe Nettel, and Juan Villoro. He seems to have read nearly everything there is to read on Mexico, including all of the gringo writers who have spent time in the country and were profoundly impacted by it. The writing on Oaxaca is some of the best I’ve read. He views that beautiful but impoverished state through the eyes of artist activist Francisco Toledo and its vast indigenous population. There’s also humor in parts. He doesn’t hold back in his criticism of San Miguel de Allende and how it's been taken over by rich old gringos and their liberal guilt, essentially casting aside the local population. He also, somewhat surprising to me, is not a fan of Carlos Fuentes. Overall, it's an excellent read if you want to learn about Mexico and its rich history and contradictions.

I get that the writer is a respected and award-winning but his writing style, while certainly soild, has a feel of arrogance to it. He seems to be a bit full of himself. Putting that aside, it is a very interesting look at Mexico and I give him two thumbs up on his integration of Mexico's history into the narrative. There were some sections where he detoured into a long-winded journey into citing other literary works regarding Mexico and by Mexican writers. I felt obliged to skip over these sections. Otherwise, an enjoyable romp through the Mexican landscape. He is a much braver man than me. I would never have had the cojones to travel into the Mexican hinterland land alone. I was terrified for him.

436 pages. No chapters. Five parts of the story on this Mexican journey. This reader just finished author Paul Theroux’s recently released “On the Plain of Snakes” and felt as if he was in the car with Paul as he traveled both sides of the border, before heading south into the interior. When discussing the border, the author had a political slant, which is fine, since immigration and border issues have been the topic of public discourse over the past few years. As an Arizonan, with land near the border, discussion of border issues is important. Many told the author not to drive into Mexico, that it was dangerous and readers will feel that danger as Paul travels south. While he did not have any contact with the cartels, he did with the federales, which cost him a few dollars. Travel into Mexico for this reader is typically walking across into Nogales, Sonora, for a wonderful lunch at La Roca and then shopping for Puebla made Talavera pottery at El Changarro. As for driving, for this reader, only from Sonoyta, Sonora, to Puerto Penasco, where there tend to be more Arizona license plates on the weekend than Mexico license plates. This book was especially interesting because Paul visits small towns and meets with the poorer people. The income of these people is incredibly low, and while Paul points out that the maquiladoras along the border provide employment, the wages typically are very low. Readers will want to visit Oaxaca and the small villages that surround the main city. Perhaps that is why it took so long to read this book, because this reader was constantly stopping to google something on his iPad. Interesting villages, towns, restaurants, hotels, events all need to be googled for additional information. This reader was fortunate to have conducted business in Mexico for much of his career, which meant visiting the major cities and working with his Mexican business counterparts. This was enjoyable work and there was never any known danger. This is not the Mexico that Paul writes about, and the Mexico that Paul writes about, is the Mexico, that readers will want to know, if there was not any danger. Paul is a braver man than me. Great book, as have been all his travel books. After returning to Arizona from a road-trip with his wife to the deep south, Paul’s “Deep South” was published. It was read and immediately this reader wanted to put petrol in his jalopy and head back out to the places that Paul wrote about. March 14 & 15, 2020, will be the Tucson Festival of Books, an incredible two days of talks & signings by authors. What excitement it would be if Paul would be there to talk about “On the Plain of Snakes”, simply another great book in his vast collection.

I’ve read Theroux for many years now and have noticed an ironic shift in his voice as he ages: he has become less the grumpy old man, seeing the world through jaded lenses, and more likable and not so quick to relay only the negative. In fact, in this work, his latest, though hopefully not his last, Theroux genuinely seems to enjoy his travel and the reader is deeply rewarded in turn. What we get is the experience of a young man in love with travel and enamored of much what he sees. Yet, Theroux is 76 and much of what he sees his heartbreaking. This is especially true in the first 100 pages where he is on a mission to trace the sinuous border, reporting on frontier towns that are either desolate or brimming with menace. He puts a human face to much of what he witnesses there—desperate migrants are giving short snippets of their plight, given us a mosaic of indomitable will and a broken spirit, sometimes embodied in the same person. But it is when he drives down into Mexico, going where the moment takes him, governed by little more than a sense of a southerly direction, that this book soars. Theroux brings you into the moment, making you care about his journey and the plight of those he meets. As always, Theroux’s descriptions—whether a jagged range of mountains or a shrine of a patron saint of death—are so well rendered that at times I found myself rereading paragraphs just to admire his skill. Finally, Theroux captures a breadth of Mexico, whether bumbling into forgotten mining towns or teaching a class to some of Mexico’s finest writers. The reader is left with no easy classification for the word “Mexican” but is bedazzled by the infinite multitudes this word invokes. Thank you Theroux for giving us a Mexico that is multifaceted, contradictory, and intriguing.

I'll preface this by saying that Theroux is one of my favorite authors and I've read most all of his non-fiction travel books - and loved them all. This one is a let-down. In the first part of the book Theroux travels along the border, going back and forth across it multiple times. He expresses shock and surprise about the violence, danger, and degradation that he finds on the Mexican side, as though the situation in Mexico has not been extensively described for decades now. Of all people, how could a professional travel writer like Theroux been taken by surprise? I too drove my car through much of Mexico in 1981, and much of Theroux's route mirrored my own, so the first half of his book was of especial interest to me in his descriptions of the places I had experienced almost forty years earlier. But about halfway through the book Theroux stays in Mexico City for a period of time, teaching a writing seminar, and the book starts to bog down right there. He ultimately continues his drive to the southernmost areas of Mexico, mostly indiginous and extremely primitive and poor. And it began to feel that Theroux had contracted to write X number of pages and he was going to do it even though the content didn't justify it, kind of like when you stretch pizza dough a little too far. I dutifully finished the book (a habit I can't seem to shake), but it felt like work. I'm sorry to have had to write this about one of my favorite writers.

I enjoyed being an armchair adventurer, following the author on his long trek via automobile visiting mostly small villages in Mexico. It’s an eye opening travelogue particularly as regards life among the very poor. I was not so interested in long passages critically evaluating literary works set in Mexico by other authors. Theroux has an unfortunate tendency to show off his erudition, which feels pedantic and gets tiresome.

Great overarching look at Mexico. He is a very captivating writer - and this weaves between a personal narrative and aspects of analysis of culture and history. It captures, pretty well, why we Americans are lucky to have such an interesting, multi-faceted neighbor to the south.

On the Plain of Snakes: A Mexican Road Trip is a travel memoir. It is a car trip along the border and the length of Mexico from the frontier to Chiapas. The author begins his Mexican journey in a border town between Mexico and the United States. The ruins of a convent is called San Juan Bautista Coixtlahuaca – the plain of snakes. The memoir continues in five parts from the Borderlands to the Way Back, from travel to politics. And then Theroux sees a snake. The first snake he saw was a coachwip snake. This novel is not just about snakes. It is also about vegetation, landscapes, birds, animals, the border fence, food, and people. Theroux also compares his journey to the one taken by American author Jack Kerouac in his 1957 novel On the Road. In Mexico City, he stays long enough to ‘slip into the urban routine’ and finding that it was ‘easy to see how so many foreigners visiting Mexico City decided to spend the rest of their lives here.’ For four days in Puebla he strolls around the city, thinking about the English travel writer Grahame Greene and his 1939 novel The Lawless Roads. He joins in celebrations and festivities and whatever he encounters. He publishes articles, befriends Mexican writers, speaks at literary events, and finds a Mexican publisher. This is another interesting travel memoir from the prolific author. It is evocative and eloquent, observant and insightful. And at the end are a selection of wonderful colour Steve McCurry photographs of the author and his travels.

A wonderfully woven book of encounters. Theroux's meandering trip through Mexico is fantastic and is as close to real travel as reading about a trip can get you.

I can now say that I've read Paul Theroux's entire travel book catalogue. I guess the only thing to do is go back to the first book and start all over again.

I liked his books when I was 17 and still enjoy them, which is rather when I was 35 and still love his style and the information he provides the non judgemental and humane reporting of the drama that continues to envelope this amazing country and its people

Paul Theroux at hia best. The travel from 🇺🇸 to 🇲🇽 through the border and from Pacific to Gulf. All those histories related to those 3000 km that divides us. The amazing writers and 📚 that he's quoting along the way, I had to find some authors and add them to my list. By the way the photographs are peerless. Thanks Mr Theroux to carry me over my country on my imagination.

An excellent tale of a fascinating journey “south of the border”. This gringo found Theroux’s journey both fascinating and sad. Sad because of the very difficult lives so many of the Mexicans live with great dignity.