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De omweg naar Santiago
Dutch
412 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1992
About the author
Cees Nooteboom
221 books382 followersCees Nooteboom (born Cornelis Johannes Jacobus Maria Nooteboom, 31 July 1933, in the Hague) is a Dutch author. He has won the Prijs der Nederlandse Letteren, the P.C. Hooft Award, the Pegasus Prize, the Ferdinand Bordewijk Prijs for Rituelen, the Austrian State Prize for European Literature and the Constantijn Huygens Prize, and has frequently been mentioned as a candidate for the Nobel Prize in literature.
His works include Rituelen (Rituals, 1980); Een lied van schijn en wezen (A Song of Truth and Semblance, 1981); Berlijnse notities (Berlin Notes, 1990); Het volgende verhaal (The Following Story, 1991); Allerzielen (All Souls' Day, 1998) and Paradijs verloren (Paradise Lost, 2004). (Het volgende verhaal won him the Aristeion Prize in 1993.) In 2005 he published "De slapende goden | Sueños y otras mentiras", with lithographs by Jürgen Partenheimer.
His works include Rituelen (Rituals, 1980); Een lied van schijn en wezen (A Song of Truth and Semblance, 1981); Berlijnse notities (Berlin Notes, 1990); Het volgende verhaal (The Following Story, 1991); Allerzielen (All Souls' Day, 1998) and Paradijs verloren (Paradise Lost, 2004). (Het volgende verhaal won him the Aristeion Prize in 1993.) In 2005 he published "De slapende goden | Sueños y otras mentiras", with lithographs by Jürgen Partenheimer.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 104 reviews
January 2, 2023
There is a comment from author Paul Theroux suggesting that the tourist is certain, while the traveler is vague. Cees Nooteboom's Roads to Santiago: Detours & Riddles in the Lands & History of Spain is far more memoir than travel guide and the paths taken to reach Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, NW Spain are indeed vague--indirect, occasionally following back roads that become cul de sacs, at times quite whimsical peregrinations by a peregrino or pilgrim who travels by car rather than on foot, as countless others bound for Santiago have done over 7 centuries.
And yet, Nooteboom's personal, free-f0rm odyssey is a compelling one, if only the reader has a moderate curiosity about or interest in at least some of what fascinates the author: Spanish art (particularly the works of Francisco de Zurbarán) & architecture (especially churches & cathedrals of the Romanesque variety), the confluence of Moorish/Spanish history & the interlaced influences of Muslims, Christians, Jews & Visigoths on each other within Iberia over a millennium.
Very importantly, Cees Nooteboom is a "man of letters", a phrasing we don't use much at present but one that fits the author, someone who takes a very keen interest in literature extending back to the classics. His extended Spanish travel transcription covers approximately 20 years of observations by a Dutchman who loves Spain & has spent years of his life attempting to synthesize his experiences there.
Oddly enough, Nooteboom is culturally a citizen of both Spain & the Netherlands, while not feeling entirely comfortable in either. And, he is a master of words in a manner that ranges from very articulate phrasing to sheer eloquence; in fact, reading Roads to Santiago is like entering a linguistic domain, as much as it involves sharing in a recapitulation of Nooteboom's Spanish travel experiences.
Much of the book involves an excavation of Nooteboom's memory, with allusions to a time when he considered entering a Trappist monastery, his early years studying the classics as a student of Franciscans, previous forays into Spain, like an archeologist peeling back layer upon layer of personal as well as Spanish history, with the core of his experiences always just beyond his grasp.
In places like the Monastery of Santo Domingo de Silos, the author's sense of belief in a Godly presence seems to flair, only to recede again, much as the light in the small, often ancient churches he finds along country roads seems shrouded in shadows but with glints of light revealing fragments of memory. This may sound unconvincing but for this reader, Nooteboom's prose is at times very pleasantly translucent.
Here is just a sample of Cees Nooteboom's prose:
The author suggests that in just closing one's eyes all of Cervantes characters come quickly alive in La Mancha & the places near it. He mentions that in such places, the world of the imagination takes hold replacing the ordinary, material world, which becomes "dreamlike, a zone where nothing is as it seems". And, he quotes Nabokov who said:
There are also numerous references to Italo Calvino & Borges & Umberto Eco, such that one is quickly aware that semiotics, or the search for meaning is at the root of almost everything that Nooteboom engages in.
With Cees Nooteboom, almost every town he enters becomes a kind of allegory and his investigations are almost taxonomic in scale but always exceedingly personal as well. And that is the beauty of Roads to Santiago, a work unlike any other I've read, a meditation encased in a travel memoir, which I found both nicely challenging and very fulfilling.
*Among the images included within my review are one of the author, Cees Nooteboom; another of the monastery at Santo Domingo de Silos; a view of the countryside near La Mancha; lastly, the interior of the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela, with giant botafumeiro (censer) at center/right.
And yet, Nooteboom's personal, free-f0rm odyssey is a compelling one, if only the reader has a moderate curiosity about or interest in at least some of what fascinates the author: Spanish art (particularly the works of Francisco de Zurbarán) & architecture (especially churches & cathedrals of the Romanesque variety), the confluence of Moorish/Spanish history & the interlaced influences of Muslims, Christians, Jews & Visigoths on each other within Iberia over a millennium.
Very importantly, Cees Nooteboom is a "man of letters", a phrasing we don't use much at present but one that fits the author, someone who takes a very keen interest in literature extending back to the classics. His extended Spanish travel transcription covers approximately 20 years of observations by a Dutchman who loves Spain & has spent years of his life attempting to synthesize his experiences there.
Oddly enough, Nooteboom is culturally a citizen of both Spain & the Netherlands, while not feeling entirely comfortable in either. And, he is a master of words in a manner that ranges from very articulate phrasing to sheer eloquence; in fact, reading Roads to Santiago is like entering a linguistic domain, as much as it involves sharing in a recapitulation of Nooteboom's Spanish travel experiences.
Much of the book involves an excavation of Nooteboom's memory, with allusions to a time when he considered entering a Trappist monastery, his early years studying the classics as a student of Franciscans, previous forays into Spain, like an archeologist peeling back layer upon layer of personal as well as Spanish history, with the core of his experiences always just beyond his grasp.
In places like the Monastery of Santo Domingo de Silos, the author's sense of belief in a Godly presence seems to flair, only to recede again, much as the light in the small, often ancient churches he finds along country roads seems shrouded in shadows but with glints of light revealing fragments of memory. This may sound unconvincing but for this reader, Nooteboom's prose is at times very pleasantly translucent.
Here is just a sample of Cees Nooteboom's prose:
The church as the representation of a higher reality is not an astonishing concept, and that such a concept gives rise to a symbolic world is something you know if you have ever been in a Greek, Buddhist or Shinto temple--in all of them you see those magic sequences of overt & covert meanings, where each image & each object acquires its rightful place within the esoteric system.Yes indeed, parts of this book are rather dense, replete with obscure terms, untranslated Latin, fanciful ruminations & soulful considerations. To some it might resemble a professorial lecture, though Cees Nooteboom is not an academic. He is however quite intellectual in his pursuits but at times also wistful & even humorous, as when he pays an entrance fee to enter the "actual home of Aldonza" from Don Quixote, a fictional character who seems vivid enough to many as to allow for such a whimsical visit.
What is so appealing about Romanesque art is that it is the 1st all-inclusive expression of such a system in its own world. A Romanesque church is cosmogony (that which deals with the origins of the universe) pictured in stone. All is meaning, morality, metaphysics and it is not Christ on the cross who occupies the centre, as in Gothic art, but Christ in Majesty, lord of the universe, creator of that strange element in which the creation is vested: time.
Within that concept everything had a meaning, from the wall to the lintel, from the vault to the baptismal font. The hunt, the seasons, the constellations, the symbols of guilt & punishment, resurrection & eternity, the bear & the snake, the raised tail & the pineapple, the chevron & the crossed axes--everything had a meaning & was legible even for those who could not read, a language of numbers & signs you clung to in a universe in which, all being well, you felt at home or at any rate felt was yours and in which the temporary world & your temporary existence was no more than a passing phase.
The author suggests that in just closing one's eyes all of Cervantes characters come quickly alive in La Mancha & the places near it. He mentions that in such places, the world of the imagination takes hold replacing the ordinary, material world, which becomes "dreamlike, a zone where nothing is as it seems". And, he quotes Nabokov who said:
We no longer laugh at the world of Cervantes & his hero, his escutcheon is compassion, his banner is beauty. He stands for everything that is gentle, lost, pure, altruistic & gallant.Towns like Silos and La Mancha are just 2 detours not on the road to Santiago and there are countless more that few travelers have heard of, dusty towns that don't appear on group tours but which make this unusual pilgrimage of interest. To be sure, this is not a guidebook for those planning a camino, a walking pilgrimage to Santiago, which Nooteboom describes as
one of the arias of madness of European opera, a gigantic migratory flow, a movement of millions of extras, an unceasing stream of scallop-bearing pilgrims from all corners of Christendom, who found shelter & sustenance en route from the Pyrenees & beyond. What the massive adventure signified in terms of religious zeal, political, social, economic & artistic influence is almost impossible to imagine.
There are also numerous references to Italo Calvino & Borges & Umberto Eco, such that one is quickly aware that semiotics, or the search for meaning is at the root of almost everything that Nooteboom engages in.
With Cees Nooteboom, almost every town he enters becomes a kind of allegory and his investigations are almost taxonomic in scale but always exceedingly personal as well. And that is the beauty of Roads to Santiago, a work unlike any other I've read, a meditation encased in a travel memoir, which I found both nicely challenging and very fulfilling.
*Among the images included within my review are one of the author, Cees Nooteboom; another of the monastery at Santo Domingo de Silos; a view of the countryside near La Mancha; lastly, the interior of the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela, with giant botafumeiro (censer) at center/right.
February 10, 2017
" We are in too much of a hurry to remain dead for so long."
Another phenomenal book, non-fiction this time, from my favorite writer. While one cannot expect masterpieces every time from even the greatest authors Cees Nooteboom's Roads to Santiago (1993) reaches the upper regions of my rare five-star rating and deserves extremely slow reading to take full delight of the writing and to wallow in exquisite detail. I made notes about virtually each of the book's 340 pages and my review was originally four times longer - what follows is just a haphazard abridgement.
Mr. Nooteboom describes his travels in Spain - parallel travels as he points out: one in his rented car and another through the past. He is "a pilgrim on the Great Way to Santiago de Compostela"; he retraces the journeys of the faithful on the Camiño de Santiago, also known as St. James's Way, the main Catholic pilgrimage route that dates back well over one thousand years, to the 9th century. The motion through time-space yields a history book - history of Spain, a country with complicated Roman, Visigoth, Arab, Jewish, and Christian roots, yet a uniquely European country. Never in my life have I learned so much about a country from a single book. Mr. Nooteboom writes not just about the famous historical figures, like Ferdinand and Isabella of Aragón and Castille or Philip II, people that most of us have heard about. We meet scores of lesser known personages and - more importantly - the author guides us through the historical processes that were occurring throughout the roughly 1300 years. We are not just reading about Spain - we get immersed in its history and culture.
Travel book, history book, but also a book of remarkable wisdom. On the social scale the author contemplates the nature of history, its relationship with time, and the role of an individual in history, even if - as he points out in a sobering thought - most people believe they have nothing to do with it. In the psychological domain Mr. Nooteboom - who often retraces his steps from his previous trips in Spain - explains, for instance, why people need to relive the experiences from the past: the reason is human "desire to weave a strand of eternity into your own life." Art history is a frequent focus as is, of course, literature: Homer, Cervantes, Nabokov, Borges' universes, and his perplejidad that is life. Incredible!
So many passages took my breath away. The author visits El Burgo de Osma where a copy of the Codex Beato is displayed, also known as Commentary on the Apocalypse: the book contains a map of the world drawn in 1086, "inscribed with Visigothic lettering." In the little village of Santiago de Peñalba he finds a perfectly preserved Mozarabic church dating from 919, with the date carved in stone. How insignificant are the sound and the fury of today when one can touch human-made objects from one thousand years ago! To me the most stunning fragment in the entire book is the study of Las Meninas, a famous painting by Velásquez ("Velásquez paints the truth not as it is but as it appears to be"). How can I ever thank the author for showing me the harmonies, the structures of truth and beauty I have never been aware of?
On the La Mancha plateau Mr. Nooteboom follows the footsteps of Cervantes and his heroes: Don Quixote, Sancho Panza, and Dulcinea. He has "an appointment with those fearsome adversaries, Don Quixote's windmills" on a long range of hills near Consuegra. He visits Dulcinea's home in El Toboso and offers the stunning line:
And the magnificent, spellbinding, spine-tingling last paragraph of the book - a long stunning forceful paragraph that almost manages the impossible: summarize Spain in awe-inspiring prose. I could go on and on with my raves. The best non-fiction book I have ever read? Yes, I believe so.
Five stars.
Another phenomenal book, non-fiction this time, from my favorite writer. While one cannot expect masterpieces every time from even the greatest authors Cees Nooteboom's Roads to Santiago (1993) reaches the upper regions of my rare five-star rating and deserves extremely slow reading to take full delight of the writing and to wallow in exquisite detail. I made notes about virtually each of the book's 340 pages and my review was originally four times longer - what follows is just a haphazard abridgement.
Mr. Nooteboom describes his travels in Spain - parallel travels as he points out: one in his rented car and another through the past. He is "a pilgrim on the Great Way to Santiago de Compostela"; he retraces the journeys of the faithful on the Camiño de Santiago, also known as St. James's Way, the main Catholic pilgrimage route that dates back well over one thousand years, to the 9th century. The motion through time-space yields a history book - history of Spain, a country with complicated Roman, Visigoth, Arab, Jewish, and Christian roots, yet a uniquely European country. Never in my life have I learned so much about a country from a single book. Mr. Nooteboom writes not just about the famous historical figures, like Ferdinand and Isabella of Aragón and Castille or Philip II, people that most of us have heard about. We meet scores of lesser known personages and - more importantly - the author guides us through the historical processes that were occurring throughout the roughly 1300 years. We are not just reading about Spain - we get immersed in its history and culture.
Travel book, history book, but also a book of remarkable wisdom. On the social scale the author contemplates the nature of history, its relationship with time, and the role of an individual in history, even if - as he points out in a sobering thought - most people believe they have nothing to do with it. In the psychological domain Mr. Nooteboom - who often retraces his steps from his previous trips in Spain - explains, for instance, why people need to relive the experiences from the past: the reason is human "desire to weave a strand of eternity into your own life." Art history is a frequent focus as is, of course, literature: Homer, Cervantes, Nabokov, Borges' universes, and his perplejidad that is life. Incredible!
So many passages took my breath away. The author visits El Burgo de Osma where a copy of the Codex Beato is displayed, also known as Commentary on the Apocalypse: the book contains a map of the world drawn in 1086, "inscribed with Visigothic lettering." In the little village of Santiago de Peñalba he finds a perfectly preserved Mozarabic church dating from 919, with the date carved in stone. How insignificant are the sound and the fury of today when one can touch human-made objects from one thousand years ago! To me the most stunning fragment in the entire book is the study of Las Meninas, a famous painting by Velásquez ("Velásquez paints the truth not as it is but as it appears to be"). How can I ever thank the author for showing me the harmonies, the structures of truth and beauty I have never been aware of?
On the La Mancha plateau Mr. Nooteboom follows the footsteps of Cervantes and his heroes: Don Quixote, Sancho Panza, and Dulcinea. He has "an appointment with those fearsome adversaries, Don Quixote's windmills" on a long range of hills near Consuegra. He visits Dulcinea's home in El Toboso and offers the stunning line:
"To enter a house that once belonged to someone who never existed is no small matter."Indeed. The author visits Extremadura and we read - in a rare non-European digression - about Pizarro and the ambush in Cajamarca, Peru, where the conquistadors massacred 2,000 unarmed Incas to commence the wholesale obliteration of Inca civilization. It is a disaster when we lose all our data on a hard disk. We mourn prehistoric paintings when they are defaced. Can we imagine the total destruction of a flourishing civilization? The people, their culture, their mythology, their gods. All gone forever.
And the magnificent, spellbinding, spine-tingling last paragraph of the book - a long stunning forceful paragraph that almost manages the impossible: summarize Spain in awe-inspiring prose. I could go on and on with my raves. The best non-fiction book I have ever read? Yes, I believe so.
Five stars.
August 10, 2016
Nel lessico comune dei vecchi amici rimane la frase: " 25 anni fa..." viene usata per coloro che si dilungato e la prendono molto alla lontana. Non si può dire che non sia più che attuale per descrivere questo Nooteboom. Devo anche aggiungere che questo divagare è molto ma molto interessante, non so quante cose mi sono annotata da approfondire, quante piazze ho voglia di visitare, strade da percorrere, pittori da riscoprire, regnanti spagnoli da studiare, intrighi di corte da capire, sensazioni da sperimentare...e avrei forse una lista infinita. Cosa chiedere di più ad un libro!
December 29, 2020
The sole deficit is its detail, some citations ran along and blurred (blanketed?) Nooteboom's intent. otherwise, it was as superb in long form as Nomad Hotel was in miniature.
July 10, 2019
I completed the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in October of 2018. This book was given to me as a sort of preparation for my pilgrimage, however I only just started it before I left for Spain and only recently returned to it. The book is in some ways dated. It was written in 1992. Nooteboom, a travel writer from Holland, often comments on the then current political situation in Spain referring to historical antecedents to illuminate the present. Of course that present has changed rather radically in the last 27 years. Though occasionally dated, the book does use this strategy successfully, because his observations often transcend that narrow contemporary consideration with an attempt to paint Spain on a broader historical canvas. What Nooteboom says about the historical antecedents of 1992 are still true in 2019 and will always be true. It is obvious that the author has a great affinity for Spain. His enthusiasm, his love for the country comes through in in every anecdote and every observation. His excursion through Spain does not sequentially follow any of the various pilgrim routes from start to finish, but rather relate his trip more topically. This skipping around sometimes seems almost hallucinatory, like some fever dream or drug experience. Other times his examination of some detail of history or art or architecture is almost clinical in the power of his observation and analysis. In the end, this book is not really a book for the peregrino trudging the dusty
miles towards Santiago, but more for the spiritual and intellectual peregrino interested in discovering the soul of a country. Nooteboom is a great guide, intellectually curious, sympathetic to not just the Spanish, but to the human condition.
miles towards Santiago, but more for the spiritual and intellectual peregrino interested in discovering the soul of a country. Nooteboom is a great guide, intellectually curious, sympathetic to not just the Spanish, but to the human condition.
January 24, 2023
An OK read, but I do like Cees Nooteboom's novels better. Visited too many churches for my tastes. Would have liked more story in the present rather than historical references.
June 1, 2023
Veel is mooi geschreven, maar na 200 pagina's die allemaal kerkjes, dorpspleinen en koninklijk drama vertellen heb je het wel gehad.
April 12, 2017
2.5 stars. I'm not quite sure how to rate this. The writing is fabulous and the content is interesting enough, but this is not a book I want to sit down and read for an hour. Instead of reading straight through I picked the chapters that talked about the places I'll be visiting in Spain or explained periods of Spanish history that interested me.
July 25, 2021
If only it had some overall cohesion, this would easily deserve 5 stars. I was expecting yet another wry & predictable "fish-out-of-water" camino narrative. But no - a breathtakingly-written meander through all of Spanish history, art, culture, politics (mediaeval to modern), couched in stunningly evocative first-person experiences of the country from a writer who clearly knows and loves it well, while still feeling every bit the foreigner.
It unfortunately reads like a disjointed collection of essays, since he never really makes his quest clear, or explains why he takes such a scattershot, circuitous route - if it's even a route at all.
But as an evocative wander through the visceral experience post-Franco Spain, while drawing in the centuries of ascendancy and decline that shaped the country, it's one of the best and most beautiful I've read.
It unfortunately reads like a disjointed collection of essays, since he never really makes his quest clear, or explains why he takes such a scattershot, circuitous route - if it's even a route at all.
But as an evocative wander through the visceral experience post-Franco Spain, while drawing in the centuries of ascendancy and decline that shaped the country, it's one of the best and most beautiful I've read.
July 29, 2021
"El tiempo que estoy fuera de casa se paraliza, se solidifica, se convierte en una especie de cosa masiva y rara que se cierra tras de mí. Entonces estoy fuera, estoy sometido a algo diferente, al viajar, al efímero elemento de no pertenecer a nada, a la recopilación de lo otro. He buscado una palabra par esto, y no puedo decirlo de otra manera que no sea ésta: me extiendo" (pàg. 215)
Només per la manera com explica què és espanya i què són els castellans ja val la pena perquè interpreta molt millor el problema espanyol que la majoria dels mateixos espanyols. Però és que ademés està escrit d´aquella manera que només en Nooteboom domina:
Només per la manera com explica què és espanya i què són els castellans ja val la pena perquè interpreta molt millor el problema espanyol que la majoria dels mateixos espanyols. Però és que ademés està escrit d´aquella manera que només en Nooteboom domina:
March 8, 2024
Marvellous book, more memoir and travelogue then guidebook, thank goodness, it is full of wonderfully evocative descriptions and is really a love letter by the author to the country which has become his second home. If only more travel books were as well written which were as intelligently informative.
April 28, 2019
Reisverslagen door Spanje. Niet allemaal even interessant, maar Nooteboom is duidelijk wel beslagen.
January 20, 2016
Ik ben eruit: Cees Nooteboom is de reiziger die stilstaat. Het mag een klein wonder heten, want ik heb Nooteboom toch al op veel plekken van de wereld getroffen. Nooteboom in Iran, Nooteboom in Mexico, Nooteboom in Peru, Nooteboom in Gambia, Nooteboom in Japan. Het lijkt me niet overdreven hem de Kuifje van onze tijd te noemen.
Een klein wonder, want je ziet hem eigenlijk nooit bewegen. Altijd als je hem treft staat hij stil. Zowel figuurlijk – hij staat stil bij het fenomeen tijd, bij de wonderen van de historie die er altijd zowel is en niet is – als letterlijk: het grootste deel van de tijd vind je hem in een kerk, bij een kerk, op zoek naar een kerk. Nooit van A naar B, hooguit van A naar een citaat over A.
Nee, als je hem al ziet bewegen, is het door de tijd. Voor Nooteboom meer dan voor anderen lijkt het heden simpelweg de optelsom van het verleden. “Het is onmeetbaar wat er in namen zit samengebald, hoeveel duizenden of miljoenen keren dat ene woord, dat nu alleen nog maar een plaats betekent, is uitgesproken en opgeschreven. […] Altijd vertoef je in het een of andere woord dat door anderen – nooit gezien, al lang vergeten – bedacht is, ooit voor het eerst is opgeschreven. Wij zijn altijd in woorden,” schrijft hij, en je hoort de Bijbelse echo's: In den beginne was het woord. Nooteboom is duidelijk schrijver eerst, en reiziger pas daarna, en dat zit verweven in elk van zijn woorden, zinnen, verhalen. Zijn collega Rebecca Solnit schrijft in A Book of Migrations, een verslag van een reis door Ierland, dat hetgeen je ziet normaliter veel memorabeler is dan hetgeen je voelt, en dat daarin wellicht wel één van de geheimen van het reizen verbogen zit. De reis is altijd beter in herinnering omdat de fysieke pijn van het moment daarin wordt weggelaten. “At the time, travelling may be nothing more than a series of discomforts in magnificent settings: running for the train to paradise in a heat wave, carrying an ever heavier pack in alpine splendor, seeing sublime ruins with stomach trouble.” In Nooteboom lees je inderdaad maar weinig over het reizen zelf, en in die zin zijn dit niet echt reisverhalen, maar eerder een poging geschiedschrijving te doen door het heden te observeren.
Je ziet echter dat de schrijver constant met die optelsom van verleden en heden worstelt, dat de som vaak niet uitkomt; dat twee en twee samen nog wel eens vijf willen zijn. In zijn verhalen over Spanje wordt dit misschien wel gesymboliseerd door de figuur van Cervantes. Nooteboom observeert dat Cervantes' creaties - Don Quixote en Sancho Panza voorop - werkelijker en menselijker zijn geworden dan de schrijver zelf. Van Cervantes de schrijver weten we maar weinig, en hebben we geen enkel portret. Als gevolg is elk standbeeld van de man anders, en slechts een approximatie op basis van enkele summiere beschrijvingen. Als Nooteboom aan het eind van zijn pelgrimage naar de bron van de Don komt, wordt dit wel heel treffend samengevat: “'Ligt Cervantes hier begraven,' vraag ik, en het antwoord is zeer Spaans: 'Ja, maar hij ligt er niet.'”
In dat zinsdeel, “het antwoord is zeer Spaans”, zit een aanname verborgen die endemisch lijkt voor schrijvers van reisverhalen. Namelijk: er is zoiets als “zeer Spaans”. Of, algemener gezegd: het is mogelijk om een plaats te beschrijven, te antropomorfiseren haast. Maak de zin af: “Als Spanje een dier zou zijn...” Ik denk dat schrijvers geen andere keus hebben dan het te geloven, dat het een soort minutieuze versie van de Gok van Pascal betreft. Wat is het nut van reizen en het beschrijven van plaatsen, als het eigenlijk allemaal om hetzelfde gaat, slechts uitgedost in exotischere kleding, en met een andere keuken – die eigenlijk ook niet meer blijkt te zijn dan een permutatie van de ingrediënten die we al kennen en eten. Nooteboom haalt de Franse term génie de lieu aan, voor “als een plaats iets heel eigens en bijzonders uitdrukt,” maar er echt uitkomen doet hij toch niet. Bij vlagen beschrijft hij Spanje prachtig, vooral als hij het heeft over de leegten in het landschap, maar vervang Spanje in zulke passages door een willekeurig Noord-Afrikaans land en de zinnen lopen nog altijd. Zo gezien is dit een boek met omzwervingen door Spanje, maar gaat het uiteindelijk niet écht over Spanje, maar meer over wat het betekent te leven onder het juk van de historie. Waar dan ook. Dat wil niet zeggen dat er niet zoiets is als een génie de lieu, maar meer dat dit niet op te schrijven valt. Ik denk dat génie de lieu enkel te bevoelen valt voor de plaats waar je opgroeit en/of woont, en dat je dan juist niet precies weet wat dit dan behelst. Elke plek zal wel z'n eigen saudade hebben, maar vraag een Portugees maar eens uit te leggen wat dat woord betekent. Grote kans dat hij je zegt: dat is onvertaalbaar. En zo is het.
Dus misschien moeten we die hele historie maar het beste wegdenken, en leven in een voortdurend nu, het heden als “a blessed parenthesis”. Dat is iets dat Nooteboom nooit zou kunnen aanvaarden, maar hij schrijft er desalniettemin prachtig over:
Ik heb een zwak voor dit soort lyrische beschrijvingen die boven de mensheid uitstijgen, die zich uiten in een ander, totaal onmenselijk idee van tijd: miljoenen, niet honderden jaren. Zo naar de wereld kijken relativeert alles, en brengt tegelijk de menselijkheid weer terug. Want hoe beter het juk van de historie van een volk af te schudden dan te bezien hoe nietig deze is relatief tot de historie van de planeet, van het land en de stenen en de oceaan. Nooit is dit sentiment beter samengevat dan door Alejo Carpentier in zijn roman Het Koninkrijk van deze Wereld:
Die mens is dus overal, en dat sentiment universeel menselijk. Maar wellicht is reizen, vergelijken, mijmeren, altijd maar stilstaan, in andere woorden hetgeen Nooteboom constant doet, een manier om een tipje van de sluier op te lichten, een manier om steeds via andere wegen, omwegen, tot deze zelfde conclusie van Carpentier te komen: dat de schoonheid van de mens in zijn onvolmaaktheid zit.
Een klein wonder, want je ziet hem eigenlijk nooit bewegen. Altijd als je hem treft staat hij stil. Zowel figuurlijk – hij staat stil bij het fenomeen tijd, bij de wonderen van de historie die er altijd zowel is en niet is – als letterlijk: het grootste deel van de tijd vind je hem in een kerk, bij een kerk, op zoek naar een kerk. Nooit van A naar B, hooguit van A naar een citaat over A.
Nee, als je hem al ziet bewegen, is het door de tijd. Voor Nooteboom meer dan voor anderen lijkt het heden simpelweg de optelsom van het verleden. “Het is onmeetbaar wat er in namen zit samengebald, hoeveel duizenden of miljoenen keren dat ene woord, dat nu alleen nog maar een plaats betekent, is uitgesproken en opgeschreven. […] Altijd vertoef je in het een of andere woord dat door anderen – nooit gezien, al lang vergeten – bedacht is, ooit voor het eerst is opgeschreven. Wij zijn altijd in woorden,” schrijft hij, en je hoort de Bijbelse echo's: In den beginne was het woord. Nooteboom is duidelijk schrijver eerst, en reiziger pas daarna, en dat zit verweven in elk van zijn woorden, zinnen, verhalen. Zijn collega Rebecca Solnit schrijft in A Book of Migrations, een verslag van een reis door Ierland, dat hetgeen je ziet normaliter veel memorabeler is dan hetgeen je voelt, en dat daarin wellicht wel één van de geheimen van het reizen verbogen zit. De reis is altijd beter in herinnering omdat de fysieke pijn van het moment daarin wordt weggelaten. “At the time, travelling may be nothing more than a series of discomforts in magnificent settings: running for the train to paradise in a heat wave, carrying an ever heavier pack in alpine splendor, seeing sublime ruins with stomach trouble.” In Nooteboom lees je inderdaad maar weinig over het reizen zelf, en in die zin zijn dit niet echt reisverhalen, maar eerder een poging geschiedschrijving te doen door het heden te observeren.
Je ziet echter dat de schrijver constant met die optelsom van verleden en heden worstelt, dat de som vaak niet uitkomt; dat twee en twee samen nog wel eens vijf willen zijn. In zijn verhalen over Spanje wordt dit misschien wel gesymboliseerd door de figuur van Cervantes. Nooteboom observeert dat Cervantes' creaties - Don Quixote en Sancho Panza voorop - werkelijker en menselijker zijn geworden dan de schrijver zelf. Van Cervantes de schrijver weten we maar weinig, en hebben we geen enkel portret. Als gevolg is elk standbeeld van de man anders, en slechts een approximatie op basis van enkele summiere beschrijvingen. Als Nooteboom aan het eind van zijn pelgrimage naar de bron van de Don komt, wordt dit wel heel treffend samengevat: “'Ligt Cervantes hier begraven,' vraag ik, en het antwoord is zeer Spaans: 'Ja, maar hij ligt er niet.'”
In dat zinsdeel, “het antwoord is zeer Spaans”, zit een aanname verborgen die endemisch lijkt voor schrijvers van reisverhalen. Namelijk: er is zoiets als “zeer Spaans”. Of, algemener gezegd: het is mogelijk om een plaats te beschrijven, te antropomorfiseren haast. Maak de zin af: “Als Spanje een dier zou zijn...” Ik denk dat schrijvers geen andere keus hebben dan het te geloven, dat het een soort minutieuze versie van de Gok van Pascal betreft. Wat is het nut van reizen en het beschrijven van plaatsen, als het eigenlijk allemaal om hetzelfde gaat, slechts uitgedost in exotischere kleding, en met een andere keuken – die eigenlijk ook niet meer blijkt te zijn dan een permutatie van de ingrediënten die we al kennen en eten. Nooteboom haalt de Franse term génie de lieu aan, voor “als een plaats iets heel eigens en bijzonders uitdrukt,” maar er echt uitkomen doet hij toch niet. Bij vlagen beschrijft hij Spanje prachtig, vooral als hij het heeft over de leegten in het landschap, maar vervang Spanje in zulke passages door een willekeurig Noord-Afrikaans land en de zinnen lopen nog altijd. Zo gezien is dit een boek met omzwervingen door Spanje, maar gaat het uiteindelijk niet écht over Spanje, maar meer over wat het betekent te leven onder het juk van de historie. Waar dan ook. Dat wil niet zeggen dat er niet zoiets is als een génie de lieu, maar meer dat dit niet op te schrijven valt. Ik denk dat génie de lieu enkel te bevoelen valt voor de plaats waar je opgroeit en/of woont, en dat je dan juist niet precies weet wat dit dan behelst. Elke plek zal wel z'n eigen saudade hebben, maar vraag een Portugees maar eens uit te leggen wat dat woord betekent. Grote kans dat hij je zegt: dat is onvertaalbaar. En zo is het.
Dus misschien moeten we die hele historie maar het beste wegdenken, en leven in een voortdurend nu, het heden als “a blessed parenthesis”. Dat is iets dat Nooteboom nooit zou kunnen aanvaarden, maar hij schrijft er desalniettemin prachtig over:
Wat is land (aarde, grond, terra) toch oneindig geduldig. Het verdraagt het gedoe van mensen bovenop zich, geen berg wordt erdoor verzet. De mensen verbouwen, irrigeren, weiden, bouwen burgen en dorpen, leggen wegen aan, maar de massa van het land blijft hetzelfde, blijft geduldig liggen, stuwt bomen en graan de lucht in, laat op zich vissen, jagen en oorlog voeren, laat zich koninkrijk, provincie, graafschap, bisdom, kalifaat, vrijstaat noemen, laat zich indelen in die arbitraire, bijna nooit natuurlijke, door mensen bedachte, en dus niet echt zichtbaar bestaande dingen die grenzen zijn, heet steeds anders, en blijft zichzelf.
Ik heb een zwak voor dit soort lyrische beschrijvingen die boven de mensheid uitstijgen, die zich uiten in een ander, totaal onmenselijk idee van tijd: miljoenen, niet honderden jaren. Zo naar de wereld kijken relativeert alles, en brengt tegelijk de menselijkheid weer terug. Want hoe beter het juk van de historie van een volk af te schudden dan te bezien hoe nietig deze is relatief tot de historie van de planeet, van het land en de stenen en de oceaan. Nooit is dit sentiment beter samengevat dan door Alejo Carpentier in zijn roman Het Koninkrijk van deze Wereld:
En nu begreep hij dat de mens nooit weet voor wie hij lijdt of hoopt. Hij lijdt en hoopt en zwoegt voor mensen die hij nooit zal kennen, en die zelf op hun beurt zullen lijden en hopen en zwoegen voor anderen die evenmin gelukkig zullen worden, want de mens zoekt altijd naar een geluk dat groter is dan voor hem werd weggelegd. De grootsheid van de mens zit echter in het feit dat hij beter wil zijn dan hij is, in het zichzelf opleggen van taken. In het Koninkrijk der Hemelen is geen grandeur te winnen, omdat daar een gevestigde hiërarchie bestaat. Het onbekende is onthuld, het bestaan is oneindig, opoffering is niet mogelijk, alles is rust en vreugde. Daarom kan de mens, gebukt onder lijden en plichten, prachtig temidden van zijn ellende, onder alle plagen in staat tot liefhebben, de grootsheid, de hoogste graad van menszijn, slechts vinden in het Koninkrijk van deze Wereld.
Die mens is dus overal, en dat sentiment universeel menselijk. Maar wellicht is reizen, vergelijken, mijmeren, altijd maar stilstaan, in andere woorden hetgeen Nooteboom constant doet, een manier om een tipje van de sluier op te lichten, een manier om steeds via andere wegen, omwegen, tot deze zelfde conclusie van Carpentier te komen: dat de schoonheid van de mens in zijn onvolmaaktheid zit.
April 8, 2024
I thought I would like this book more. Spain is somewhat on the periphery of my interests. What I know about Spain is mostly about Roman Spain: Hannibal, Caesar, Spanish emperors Trajan and Hadrian. Nooteboom focuses mainly on medieval Spain and the Spanish Civil War. While ostensibly about pilgrimage to Santiago, this is basically a travel book that ends up in Santiago after somewhat random forays through the rest of Spain. Nooteboom visits and describes many churches and monasteries, describing architecture and paintings in great detail. His descriptions are cascading, almost run on sentences, often verging on stream of consciousness, with occasional references to various art history books he hauled with him. I find written descriptions of paintings and monuments tedious. The many photos in the books are poor quality black and white, often somewhat out of focus. They are spectral and atmospheric, but otherwise useless. There are occasional digressions, on Antigone, the death of Borges, etc., which are sometimes more interesting than the travel narrative. Late in the book, I realized why I didn't like it much. Most good to great travel books include encounters with people, anecdotes about local culture, etc. This one not so much. The people Nooteboom encounters are entirely incidental to the buildings and paintings. He could have probably saved the trip and written this tedious tome in his study in Amsterdam.
July 5, 2022
Een heerlijk boek over geschiedenis, godsdienst, kunst, literatuur en zoveel meer. Een boek over Spanje en Europa, maar vooral ook een prachtig zelfportret van de auteur.
November 7, 2023
Enorme
May 3, 2020
While talking to a friend in Los Angeles the other day, the Camino came up and I told him about a wonderful book I had read years ago, before coming to live in Spain. After we talked I thought, since it had been years since I read it, maybe now was a good time to read it again, since I liked it so much the first time.
This was the only book that had Santiago in the title, so I figured this was the book I was thinking of. But no. It is not. I suppose I read this years ago too, and maybe I liked it, since I still had it on my shelf. Starting in again I thought it was very good. What a lovely introduction about traveling to certain, special places:
"It is impossible to prove and yet I believe it: there are some places in the world where one is mysteriously magnified on arrival or departure by the emotions of all those who have arrived and departed before. Anyone possessed of a soul so light feels a gentle tug in the air around the Schreierstoren, the Sorrowers' Tower in Amsterdam, which has to do with the accumulated sadness of those left behind. It is a sadness we do not experience today: our journeys no longer take years to complete, we know exactly where it is we are going, and our chances of coming back are so much greater."
It goes on for a while in the same vein and it's lovely. But after a while Nooteboom and I turned up on different sides of the road. He is obsessed with and enamored of Spain. I dislike it about as much as he loves it. The ignorance and brutality that he appreciates turns me off. He isn't going to Santiago, although I suppose he gets there in the end. He is wandering all over Spain, although he gives Barcelona and Catalonia only the time it takes to drive across and leave, while he returns to Madrid countless times (which may account for why he knows so little about Catalonia, only mentioning Salvador Dali in relation to the melting of time). When he went on and on.... and on about the painter Zurbaran, I totally lost interest. Cervantes was interesting but after that, it was adios.
And the worst thing is that I can't find that book I really liked. I thought it was also by a Dutchman, but maybe not? He starts the Camino in France but can't do the whole walk in one go. So he returns two more times. Anyone know what book that is? And why it isn't still on my shelf?
This was the only book that had Santiago in the title, so I figured this was the book I was thinking of. But no. It is not. I suppose I read this years ago too, and maybe I liked it, since I still had it on my shelf. Starting in again I thought it was very good. What a lovely introduction about traveling to certain, special places:
"It is impossible to prove and yet I believe it: there are some places in the world where one is mysteriously magnified on arrival or departure by the emotions of all those who have arrived and departed before. Anyone possessed of a soul so light feels a gentle tug in the air around the Schreierstoren, the Sorrowers' Tower in Amsterdam, which has to do with the accumulated sadness of those left behind. It is a sadness we do not experience today: our journeys no longer take years to complete, we know exactly where it is we are going, and our chances of coming back are so much greater."
It goes on for a while in the same vein and it's lovely. But after a while Nooteboom and I turned up on different sides of the road. He is obsessed with and enamored of Spain. I dislike it about as much as he loves it. The ignorance and brutality that he appreciates turns me off. He isn't going to Santiago, although I suppose he gets there in the end. He is wandering all over Spain, although he gives Barcelona and Catalonia only the time it takes to drive across and leave, while he returns to Madrid countless times (which may account for why he knows so little about Catalonia, only mentioning Salvador Dali in relation to the melting of time). When he went on and on.... and on about the painter Zurbaran, I totally lost interest. Cervantes was interesting but after that, it was adios.
And the worst thing is that I can't find that book I really liked. I thought it was also by a Dutchman, but maybe not? He starts the Camino in France but can't do the whole walk in one go. So he returns two more times. Anyone know what book that is? And why it isn't still on my shelf?
October 15, 2014
The Dutch author is, most certainly, an admirer of Spain. He writes passionately about his travels across the land, traversing history, culture, and the role of Spain in the modern world. The style is erratic and it takes a while to get used to the author's jumpiness, but it all seems to weave together nicely. There are deep forays into the world of art and I found the detail on Velasquez most interesting and it is clear that Nooteboom holds a special place in his heart for the work of Zurbaran. There is a constant flicker of images of old rustic villages and a barren landscape as the author makes his undulating way in a series of neverending detours in his quest to reach Santiago de Compostela. I think one of the giveaways in the book is when our Dutch narrator reveals how he almost joined a monastery. He obviously has deep religious feelings and these manifest in his detailed depictions of the art and architecture of the religious buildings which seem to dominate the direction of his meanderings. The history of Spain can be detailed in the construction of these temples. From the deep antiquity of the Romans through to the Visigoths and Arabs and on into the post-reconquista emergence of a unified state under Ferdinand and Isabella and future Habsburg monarchs up to the tragedies of the Civil War and Francoist Spain and its post-Franco entrance into modern Europe. I think that the translator from Dutch has done a wonderful job and the book reads most freely. It has a deep elegant manner, is of the most floral and descriptive prose and it never fails to produce a deep impression on the imagination of the reader. This genuine work of literary art embeds the image of Spain on the mind and one can feel and breathe the deep-seated knowledge and embracing love that the author has for this mysterious land.
June 28, 2021
The length of time it took to read this is a sign. I enjoyed this book when I first started reading it. I very much enjoyed reading of off-the-beaten-path towns. As the author began philosophizing and discussing mythology, I began to lose interested.
As an aspiring Pilgrim, I was expecting more stories about places on the Camino Frances. Not random locations throughout Spain. I understand all roads lead to Santiago. I was expecting a bit more structure in the organization of the places visited.
If you are wanting to read this to learn stories of pilgrims along the Camino, be aware of the layout and some of the rambling.
As an aspiring Pilgrim, I was expecting more stories about places on the Camino Frances. Not random locations throughout Spain. I understand all roads lead to Santiago. I was expecting a bit more structure in the organization of the places visited.
If you are wanting to read this to learn stories of pilgrims along the Camino, be aware of the layout and some of the rambling.
November 5, 2013
A lovely book of Spain written by a man who has spent a considerable amount of time in the country for 20 years leading to the writing of the book. The topic is ostensibly the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela but the other meanders his way through much of the country, including parts of the Canary Islands, partly because it helps to explain the destination better but mostly it seems because he doesn't want the trip to end. And neither did I. His irreverence of the religious symbolism is appropriate here - at least for this reader.
For me, the historical references - the political, religious, monarchical, artistic, literary and geographical - provided in every chapter give meaning and structure to the journey and each destination. The place names, so many of which owe their origins to the Arabic language, are now better understood. There is no one who loves this landscape Mr. Nooteboom writes about as much as he does and the choice of destinations shows this. He enjoys the quiet out of the way spots more than the more well known stops. This seems to be another reason to avoid the destination. It's where all the lucky pilgrims end up after all. But even here the author is contented in the lesser known statues, the smile of Daniel.
For me, the historical references - the political, religious, monarchical, artistic, literary and geographical - provided in every chapter give meaning and structure to the journey and each destination. The place names, so many of which owe their origins to the Arabic language, are now better understood. There is no one who loves this landscape Mr. Nooteboom writes about as much as he does and the choice of destinations shows this. He enjoys the quiet out of the way spots more than the more well known stops. This seems to be another reason to avoid the destination. It's where all the lucky pilgrims end up after all. But even here the author is contented in the lesser known statues, the smile of Daniel.
January 26, 2018
Tough. A tough read and tough to review. Very dense, at times cerebral. Almost as much of a slog as the Camino de Santiago. However- full of fascinating history (especially of art) and captures beautifully a Spain that has all but disappeared. I am married to a Basque and have lived in Navarra for over 15 years, and have been in pretty much all of the provinces the author visits. He does a wonderful job describing the romanesque gems that are around every corner in the small villages. I particularly enjoyed the discussions of the Arab rule and relations with the north of Spain as well as the story of Pizarro.
I would advise using this book as a reference- if you are interested in a particular region or epoca en history- use the index and read that specific part. I know I will return to this book again and again, as I visit more places. I will certainly bring it with me on our Semana Santa holiday, when we drive through Cáceres and Mérida on our way to PT.
I would advise using this book as a reference- if you are interested in a particular region or epoca en history- use the index and read that specific part. I know I will return to this book again and again, as I visit more places. I will certainly bring it with me on our Semana Santa holiday, when we drive through Cáceres and Mérida on our way to PT.
May 26, 2017
Te kunnen observeren en omschrijven als Nooteboom, dat moet geweldig zijn. Maar ook eenzaam bijwijlen.
Vaak heb ik gezucht bij het lezen van dit boek, ik verdwaalde op de omweg die hij volgde, ik was verloren tussen de talrijke uitwijdingen over kerken en gebouwen, en dan ineens was de klik er weer, was onze tred gelijk.
Het boek is een liefdesverklaring aan Spanje, een erg persoonlijke en een die mij niet direct motiveerde om morgen te vertrekken. Ik wil graag gaan maar niet meer dan voor ik het boek las, het wekte geen hoogdringendheid op.
Maar wanneer ik ga zal ik het boek meenemen en de delen over de plaatsen waar ik zal gaan herlezen.
Ik voelde mij in dit boek als een blinde in een museum, zonder audiogids, enkel af en toe een flard licht.
Vaak heb ik gezucht bij het lezen van dit boek, ik verdwaalde op de omweg die hij volgde, ik was verloren tussen de talrijke uitwijdingen over kerken en gebouwen, en dan ineens was de klik er weer, was onze tred gelijk.
Het boek is een liefdesverklaring aan Spanje, een erg persoonlijke en een die mij niet direct motiveerde om morgen te vertrekken. Ik wil graag gaan maar niet meer dan voor ik het boek las, het wekte geen hoogdringendheid op.
Maar wanneer ik ga zal ik het boek meenemen en de delen over de plaatsen waar ik zal gaan herlezen.
Ik voelde mij in dit boek als een blinde in een museum, zonder audiogids, enkel af en toe een flard licht.
April 3, 2014
my first cees nooteboom book, but not last now.
author has spent many decades traveling in spain, looking at art architecture food history travel religion war peace nature
basiclly, every single sentence nooteboom writes is a poem or an essay . incredible craftsmanship and poetry.
and, one of best books about spain i have read.
*Been busy building an opac, so just making placeholders for books I’ve read in march and april 2014. This is the opac though.
http://stwr.ent.sirsi.net/client/defa...
author has spent many decades traveling in spain, looking at art architecture food history travel religion war peace nature
basiclly, every single sentence nooteboom writes is a poem or an essay . incredible craftsmanship and poetry.
and, one of best books about spain i have read.
*Been busy building an opac, so just making placeholders for books I’ve read in march and april 2014. This is the opac though.
http://stwr.ent.sirsi.net/client/defa...
August 5, 2017
It is not a travel book in a classic sense- the author gives you a window to the universe called "Spain" through his own eyes. He thinks aloud about its history, art and culture. And you are able to listen to his thoughts. Among other things, he talks about Velasquez, Zurbaran and Civil War's scars, Don Quixote and the Golden Age. He is enchanted by the Romanesque architecture and his visit to different churches takes a fair portion of the book which felt a little too much sometimes. But overall i found this book timeless and mesmerising.
Anyone who loves Spain would like this book.
Anyone who loves Spain would like this book.
June 1, 2015
"Quero fazer a viagem mais uma vez e sei que, de novo, não vou conseguir manter a linha recta, já que, para mim, caminho nunca terá outro significado senão descaminho, o labirinto eterno construído pelo próprio viajante que se deixa sempre seduzir por um desvio, por um desvio do desvio"...
("O (Des)Caminho de Santiago",Cees Nooteboom)
December 17, 2020
the urge for travelling concrete areas smothered by this time period, attempted to transform into voyaging mind spaces. This book helped a little bit, mapping Spain. Nooteboom used to be a favourite some years ago, but now ceases to be. Useless travelling around as a luxury is out, for several reasons. Time urges to uncover mind spaces themselves.
May 18, 2022
De liefde die Nooteboom koestert voor Spanje is één die ik herken. Het land behelst zoveel meer dan de tapas, de Costa Brava en het appetijtelijke klimaat. Nooteboom gaat met name in dit boek in op de culturele geschiedenis van talloze Spaanse steden. Kerken, kathedralen, kunstwerken, wassenbeelden en tal van historische figuren worden uitvoerig beschreven. De adoratie aan Spanje spat van de bladzijden af al is het voor mij soms té literair beschreven en te doorspekt met allerlei stijlfiguren en andere weetjes. Dit boek is daarom het beste te beschrijven als een literaire reisroman, een die je gidst door alle pracht en praal die Spanje te bieden heeft.
Herkenbaar, zoals Nooteboom beschrijft in zijn boek, is de uitgestrektheid van het Spaanse land. De talloze kilometers die je soms aflegt door droog en onbewoond gebied. Kortom: het symboliseert ook dat Spanje een land is waar je afstanden moet overbruggen en klimatologische omstandigheden het hoofd moet kunnen bieden (in de zomer is de hitte soms niet te dragen in de steden). Maar ben je in staat dat te doen dan voeren die lange reizen je daar culturele rijke steden en prachtige natuurgebieden. Want dat Spanje een mens veel, misschien wel alles, te bieden heeft beschrijft Nooteboom uitvoerig in dit boek.
Herkenbaar, zoals Nooteboom beschrijft in zijn boek, is de uitgestrektheid van het Spaanse land. De talloze kilometers die je soms aflegt door droog en onbewoond gebied. Kortom: het symboliseert ook dat Spanje een land is waar je afstanden moet overbruggen en klimatologische omstandigheden het hoofd moet kunnen bieden (in de zomer is de hitte soms niet te dragen in de steden). Maar ben je in staat dat te doen dan voeren die lange reizen je daar culturele rijke steden en prachtige natuurgebieden. Want dat Spanje een mens veel, misschien wel alles, te bieden heeft beschrijft Nooteboom uitvoerig in dit boek.
March 24, 2022
Titre un peu trompeur...quoi que... 20 ans de voyages en Espagne, 20 ans de souvenirs entremêlés donnent un livre pas toujours facile à lire mais qui donne envie de s'y rendre sur les pas de Cees
August 19, 2022
Toch te specialistisch om echt interessant te zijn voor mij als lezer
October 6, 2017
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Cees Nooteboom was (is?) a Dutch novelist, and this book was apparently originally written in Dutch. I read it in English translation. The translation read very smoothly, with only one or two odd constructions, that may have been due to the translator being British. This book reminds me of the sort of evocative histories of Spain that I used to read when I was first learning about Spanish history back in high school, many, many years ago. Nooteboom was a highly literate author, and his writing flows with allusions to many historical, cultural, religious and other events, most of them interesting in their own right. He ties his experience of Spain into his own life experiences (he was educated by monks in a Catholic boarding school; his education in the Netherlands, whose notion of Spain is still colored by the Spanish cruelty in the 80-years war, among other things) so much of the writing has a very personal tone.
The idea of the book is that Nooteboom is taking his own very personal pilgrimage to Saint James's shrine at Santiago de Campostela, and though he does describe parts of the Camino de Santiago, he travels through many other parts of Spain, including Valencia, Catalunya, Granada, and even the Canary islands, ending up with a brief description of and meditation upon Santiago itself. Much interesting historical material is covered, a great deal of which I know very little about, which I will enjoy making further inquiries about on my own. The Spain he describes sounds so much to me like the Spain I experienced when I travelled there in the mid-1970s, which is perhaps not surprising since he has been traveling through Spain since at least the 1950s. The book was published in the early 1990s, and the actual trips he describes probably took place 10 to 15 years later.
The idea of the book is that Nooteboom is taking his own very personal pilgrimage to Saint James's shrine at Santiago de Campostela, and though he does describe parts of the Camino de Santiago, he travels through many other parts of Spain, including Valencia, Catalunya, Granada, and even the Canary islands, ending up with a brief description of and meditation upon Santiago itself. Much interesting historical material is covered, a great deal of which I know very little about, which I will enjoy making further inquiries about on my own. The Spain he describes sounds so much to me like the Spain I experienced when I travelled there in the mid-1970s, which is perhaps not surprising since he has been traveling through Spain since at least the 1950s. The book was published in the early 1990s, and the actual trips he describes probably took place 10 to 15 years later.
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