Bill Bryson, "The Lost Continent: Travels in
Small Town America," (London: Abacus Books; 1990), 293 pages.
In the late 1908s, Bill Bryson, an England-based
American writer, returned to the United States to retrace the travels taken on
family vacations during his youth. The travels he took were the material for
this book. Bryson wanted to visit what he called the magical places of his
youth, or perhaps more accurately, the places he visited on family vacations of
his youth that formed magical memories for him. Motivated by the recent passing
of his father, a semi-famous baseball writer, and looming middle-age, Bryson
returned to his home town, borrowed a car, and set out to see small town
America. His journey was not just a retracing footsteps of old trips, it also
took on a quest to find the dreamy small town of the movie of his youth, a
timeless place where Bing Crosby would be the priest, Jimmy Stewart the major,
Fred Macmurray the high school principal, and Henry Fonda the owner of the gas
station. Bryson called this fictional town Amalgam, a mixture of the picturesque
towns encountered in fiction.
Bryson traveled from Des Moines, Iowa to all
corners of the lower 48 states of the United States. The book contains detailed
descriptions of the places he visited, together with reflections from his
childhood. Bryson writes with perception, accuracy and wit. He captures
the vast contrasts in the United States, the gaps between the wealthy and the
poor, the prevalence of violent crime, and America's large scale abandonment of
small town "high street" commercial life in favor of large scale
commerce of big box stores and shopping malls. Bryson praises the staggering
physical beauty of the United States while simultaneously recoiling at the
homogenization of its look alike suburban developments, gas stations, motels
and fast food outlets frequented by overweight hicks wearing bad clothes.
The Lost Continent established Bryson's reputation
as a humorous travel writer. At times he is a rude smart-alec that prompts deep
belly laughs in reader. At times he is cruel when he makes fun of the local
residents of the small towns he visits. At the time of the writing of this
book, Bryson has lived outside the United States for a long time. This book
shows that the America of his youth is gone; Americans' way of life and their
towns and cities have changes from how he remembers them. It’s as though Bryson
is a foreigner in his own country and he is disgusted with a lot of what he
sees. Despite his smart-alec outrage and humorous put-downs, Bryson writes
quite beautifully about the places he visits, most notably the Henry Ford
Museum in Detroit, Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah, the Loretto Chapel in
Santa Fe, and numerous small towns in New England and the Mid West. The book
also contains many historical fact that enable Bryson to provide a back story
to the places he visited thereby acting as a story teller and educator for the
reader. Bryson's eye for detail, love of useful facts, historical details,
and good yarns are his great strength. His gift is to tell great stories
about significant human achievements and follies that move and excite people.
In The Lost Continent we see the potential he developed later on in more
serious and scholarly books.
If this book has a weakness it’s the uneven pace.
Bryson starts slowly, describing in great detail his travels on the Iowa and
Illinois back roads. It’s as though he is travelling slowly, but writing a lot.
By the end of the book, Bryson covers great distances with less detail. As
times it appears as though he is racing across the western states as though he
is on a deadline to traverse these great distances in a short period of time
and in as few pages as possible so he can flop over the finish line in time for
his return flight to England. The pace is that of a sprinter compared to the
leisurely stroll at the start of the book. If you can get past this minor
blemish, Bryson's "culture shock" and humorous self-obsession with
how America has changed, you should enjoy this book for its moments of serious
reflection and first-rate story telling about things that both tarnish and make
America great. These alone are worth the purchase price of this book.