This book has given me my new life motto - "Courage, friend! It is to eat macaroni!"
If that doesn't get you through anything, I don't know what does.
This was a pleasant read. I found it unexpectedly charming and witty and not as blatantly racist as I expected. Dickens is a master of ironic detail and painting squalor within charming pictures.
Unfortunately, he's also still the Victorian so several passages dragged a bit.
Overall, though, pleasant is the word I'd give this one.

"I am not easily dispirited when I have the means of pursuing my own fancies and occupations" - made me laugh....aren't we all happy to have the means to pursue our own fancies?
"It is miserable to see great works of art - something of the Souls of Painters - perishing and fading away"

This is a different Dickens than in his novels, and yet the same. He's humorous, descriptive, observant. But unlike his novels, where he gets to the core of his characters and they come alive, the people in this book are distant, even when described in detail. The reason for this may be that Dickens is writing from memory; not as he was travelling.

Because it is written by Dickens, this is no ordinary travel book. Especially interesting, Dickens description of Fondi.

“a filthy channel of mud and refuse meanders down the center of the miserable streets, fed by obscene rivulets that trickle from the abject houses.”

One learns how to properly use the word “putrefaction.”

"The rapid and broken succession of novelties that had passed before me, came back like half-formed dreams; and a crowd of objects wandered in the greatest confusion through my mind, as I travelled on, by a solitary road."

missing italy

Charles Dickens seems to hate Italy, until the very end where he wants to forgive it. The real problem that I had with to book is that travel writing should offer you a sharp colorful picture of a place, even if sometimes idealized. With Dickens, Italy seemed like a blurred, faded sepia place seen through an ill composed photograph.

3.5 stars

“This book is a series of faint reflections – mere shadows in water – of places to which the imagination of most people are attracted in a greater or less degree, on which mine had dwelt for years, and which have some interest for all. The greater part of the descriptions were written on the spot, and sent home, from time to time, in private letters.”

I’m a huge fan of Charles Dickens, yet I had never realized until just recently that he had written a travelogue of sorts. This work was actually assembled from a collection of letters he had sent home to a confidant in England while he travelled with his family throughout Italy, by way of France, in 1844. Having never been to Italy, with no prospects of doing so on the near horizon, I thought this would be a pleasant diversion, which it was. What most appealed to me was that his biggest goal of sorts was to immerse himself in the culture and the people, not necessarily in seeing all of the sites. This is the way I would prefer to travel myself, if given the opportunity (with a friend as translator, of course!)

Naturally, Dickens’s travels brought him to many of the most famed sites regardless of his intentions. He seemed less enthralled with the abundance of churches, cathedrals and holy men than he was with the landscape. He spoke with a bit of disdain when describing what he viewed as the monotony of the religious life and rituals. I certainly didn’t take offense, having fallen asleep in such places more than once in my younger days, but some will perhaps find his tone objectionable on occasion. I appreciated the bit of wry humor, to be honest.

Dickens shines when he is wholly captivated by a setting. When he feels inspired, he inspires the reader as well. One of my favorite sections included his journey through Venice, which he wrote in a dream sequence of sorts. At first, I nearly thought he was truly describing a dream, rather than using dream as metaphor!

“In the luxurious wonder of so rare a dream, I took but little heed of time, and had but little understanding of its flight. But there were days and nights in it; and when the sun was high, and when the rays of lamps were crooked in the running water, I was still afloat, I thought: plashing the slippery walls and houses with the cleavings of the tide, as my black boat, borne upon it, skimmed along the streets.”

I also learned that Charles Dickens had a daredevil side to him as well. I can’t imagine such a thing being possible in this day and age, but he took a trip up Mount Vesuvius that resembled something out of a blockbuster adventure film rather than a Victorian era non-fiction book. Rife with danger and a bit of hysterics, a troop of tourists made the perilous trek up the volcano’s surface. Dickens himself traipsed back down from this menacing cone of fire with the marks of a true adventurer. I’ll surely leave this part of his trip off my own itinerary, should I ever make it that far.

“… we contrive to climb up to the brim, and look down, for a moment, into the Hell of boiling fire below. Then, we all three come rolling down; blackened, and singed, and scorched, and hot, and giddy: and each with his dress alight in half a dozen places.”

I’m pleased to have spent some time in the company of this illustrious author once again. I’ll admit this is not one of my favorite pieces, but it’s one that a completist will want to add to his or her list. Armchair travelers that enjoy Victorian literature will likely admire this as well.

“But it is such a delight to me to leave new scenes behind, and still go on, encountering newer scenes…”

I'm working my way through Dickens' major works and I wasn't looking forward to this one but it was ok. You wouldn't read it cover to cover in one go, though. Bits of it were quite dull, but some passages were very interesting in their own right and some of the description was vintage: could have come from A Christmas Carol or Martin Chuzzlewit which he was writing around the same time.

Wonderful pen picture of Italy and her citizens

Hugely evocative descriptions as one would expect from one of the world's greatest writers. Although written a century and a half ago, the prose is still very readable today.
Dickens displays a healthy cynicism with regard to various religious and folklore based practices, along with an ability to gently laugh at numerous events. The image of the 'very large gentleman' sliding down the side of Mount Vesuvius had me spilling my coffee with laughter.

Ωραία η γραφή και οι περιγραφές των συμβάντων στην πόλη της Ρώμης, αλλά μέχρι εκεί.

Love these travel scripts!

Loved this journey through Italy, it doesn't seem to have changed much in 150 years, the chapters on Venice and Naples were lovely

An entertaining read about a journey Dickens took. Not always respectful, but funny.