The Routes of Man: How Roads Are Changing the World and the Way We Live Today

Using widely selected specific examples, Conover deftly weaves stories that illustrate the universal in the particular; inspires me to look at his earlier works.

The subject is huge (roads, the biggest thing people have built) but the approach is specific, even intimate: Conover gets at the big story by telling smaller stories, and puts you right there-in the Hyundai, in the Humvee, in the Himalayan winter. Its an adventure story but its not macho, its human.

Ted Conovers The Routes of Man, is a first-person narrative of six separate road journeys. Three of the road tales take place in Asia, two in Africa and one in South America. Conover deftly separates each of his road tales with a bridge chapter, a short chapter focusing on the history of roads. One such example is a history of the extension of political and military power, cultural influence and the technological innovations of Roman Roads. His first journey begins in Peru where he seeks to find answers to the logging of mahogany in the Amazonian part of Peru where virgin mahogany trees still grow and are logged--legally and illegally. His second journey is to the high mountains of northern Kashmir, a border region where India, Pakistan and China come together. This is a cold, alpine clime; the road journey is actually a hike through a high mountain pass. Beware travelers, a modern road is coming soon and with it, will come the loss of local culture, history and tradition. There is sadness as the loss of local culture and history is imminent. His journey to East Africa is along a trucker road across Kenya into Uganda. He teams up with a trucker on a route that has become notorious in the spread of AIDS. His quest to find answers to the spread of AIDS is the quixotic Holy Grail of this journey. Conovers journey into the occupied West Bank and into Israel proper is tragic for what Israel has succeeded in doing: isolating and de-humanizing Palestinian people in their own land. A road system along with a so-called security fence has effectively produced an apartheid in which the Palestinian people cannot easily tend to their sheep and goats, prune their olive trees, visit with friends and relatives or simply get to work. For Palestinians, this cleverly designed road system has truly segregated an entire people. Conover evenhandedly narrates the difficult situation Israeli soldiers face at what are called checkpoints, a mix of permanent, semi-permanent or temporary military garrisons along the roads where Palestinans who need to travel face searches, long-lines and dehumanizing treatment. In China, Conover narrates a journey along a network of rapidly developing highways that within the next quarter-century are likely be overwhelmed with automobiles. Government policy has stated a goal to unite the nation to bring the outer parts of China (Tibet and Xinjiang) into the modern Chinese state. Modern high-speed highways will undoubtedly accelerate the Sinification of the country by the dominant Han Chinese. In this journey, Conover hooks up with nouveau riche Chinese members of a Beijing-based auto club who take a club-led road trip into the interior of China and visit among other sites, the nearly-complete Three Gorges Dam. Conovers last journey is to Lagos in Nigeria. No need to say more than this would not be a destination for people who fancy a driving vacation holiday. Good read! Five stars.

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Ted Conover is a master of immersion journalism, in which he draws on his background as a journalist and an anthropologist to take part in interesting subcultures and create thoughtful profiles, illuminating unfamiliar worlds. In this book, he visits several roads around the world and creates a engaging narrative about the symbolic meaning of roads and how they are changing human societies in different ways across the globe. Readers who remember Conover as the guy who traveled with undocumented migrant workers, hopped railroads with tramps and went undercover at Sing Sing prison will find this book a little tame. Instead of running through the desert with migrants, dodging armed bandits and corrupt soldiers, this book finds Conover traveling on the dime of various magazines for which he writes and staying in nice hotels. But Conover still has an anthropologists ethic for getting inside a culture, and he knows how to immerse himself and ask the right questions. What I enjoy about Conover is that he rarely sits in judgment, instead positioning himself as a participant-observer seeking to understand people on their own terms. For example, in his chapter on a rural community in India where students travel across a frozen body of water which otherwise isolates their community, Conover carefully weighs how new road construction will affect their lives, posing deep questions about tradition and modernity; instead of staking out a position on these issues for himself, he lets his subjects speak for themselves. And while the book lacks the adventure of some of his previous work, Conover has also matured as a writer and thinker. This book finds the author delving into more abstract, intellectual themes, where he shows his ability to see a deeper meaning in something as seemingly innocuous as a newly constructed road, conjuring up the places that road will connect, the people who will travel it, and the myriad cultural, economic and personal interactions it will stimulate. Travel is a fundamental component of human nature, and Conover has presented an intriguing, creative and thought-provoking account of his travels on several continents.

Great book! The author is courageous to the nth degree in an understated, mindful sort of way.

This book examines the culture that exists around the road, because of the road. All of the journeys Conover undertakes and the people he meets are directly influenced by the roads they travel. This book is about how culture changes with different types of roads. I think it is clear that Conover prefers lots of culture to high speed travel that good roads bring (see the section about India and the rural teacher who comments on too much culture), and therefore creation of a transoceanic highway would destroy a fragile culture balance that exists in the Peruvian Andes, something that he would like to revisit but feels will be gone before he or anyone else can make it back. Thanks, Mr. Conover, for allowing us to travel with you and showing us what to look for in our travels.

We love roads, and we come to hate them. Anyone, writes Conover in his opening paragraph, who has benefited from a better road--a shorter route, a smoother and safer drive--can testify to the importance of good roads. But when humans strive, we also err, and it is hard to build without destroying. That contradiction, that tension underlies the book. A road from Perus Altiplano into the jungle allows access to valuable mahogany trees, but also threatens primitive people and an established ecology. In East Africa, a road that is a clear economic boon to many has also helped the spread of AIDS, via truckers and prostitutes along its length. Roads are integral to development, and development can look disastrous. There is nothing armchair about Conovers reporting. He clearly has a library and has read widely, but each of the six chapters is written from inside a culture, whether the author is zipping along the new highways of China or riding inside an ambulance through the teeming, chaotic city of Lagos, Nigeria. Its a book full of people, and the conflicts are inevitable. Why, a friend asks the author, would he go to Lagos, a city which Conover admits has few museums, not too many antiquities, only a handful of public spaces or buildings of note, and stunningly little natural beauty. It does, however, have a reputation for crime, and lots of lots of people. Because people are interesting, Conover says, and So is crime. So are the politics of Israel and Palestine--and the chapter on the roads of the West Bank is the best piece of journalism Ive ever read about that conflict. Conover explores the Israeli checkpoints in the company of both Palestinians and the Israeli soldiers who try to control them. Its degrading to both sides. The soldiers are looking for guns, explosives and suicide bombers, and most Palestinians are simply trying to get to work, or get home. Israels management of the West Bank often comes down to restricting the travel of the Palestinians, and when Conover is in line with them as they move on foot toward a pair of turnstiles, an exercise in gradual compression, the reader gets a visceral feel for their frustration and humiliation. The soldiers dont like it either. Innocent civilians...are inevitably damaged by the armys work in the territories, Conover writes. He spends weeks with an Israeli commander and his men, who not only run the checkpoints but sometimes tear up Palestinian houses in search of arms. Its bad for the families, the commander says, But whats not plain until the fifteenth time is that its bad for you. Six fascinating travels interspersed with engaging personal essays: a great book.

When I started reading The Routes of Man I thought it was going to be about famous roads in civilization. I was mostly wrong. It’s actually a very engrossing modern day worldwide road trip. Conover is an interesting guy and in The Routes of Man he takes the reader to many of the most desolate, dangerous and delightful places on Earth and introduces us to some of the individuals who live there. He travels the most remote roads and rivers of Peru to explore the illegal mahogany harvesting occurring there. From Tibetan ice river treks to the new “self-driving clubs” enabling wealthy Chinese to drive the brand new roadways to the hellhole called Lagos Nigeria, Conover strives to provide the character of the people and places and when possible the beauty. A common theme for each venue is how the changes in roads will impact the citizens of the area and that the changes appear to be inevitable. For some the story may be a little bit dry, but I liked it and give The Routes of Man a good read.

Very interesting and comprehesive.