Found this interesting looking book on a recent book haul. Did not know what to expect as I read the title wrong, thinking it was called The Smokey God, which for some reason seemed to make more sense to me. Anyway, when I read the flyleaf explaining what the book was about I half expected the map of a lost continent to fall from behind the dust cover or Kenneth Moore to show up and ask me to accompany him on a trip to the centre of the earth. Neither actually happened.Could this be a true story? Probably not. But then again it could be. Although it does read as a little bit bonkers. But what story of adventures of ien in extremis does not sound a little bonkers. I remember5 being gripped by a biography of Sir Enerst Shackleton with his men in an icy hell actually living the meaning of the word ENDURANCe and I could not help thinking he, and they, were all a little bit potty to put themselves through such terrifying experiences. Mind you, I have always liked reading about the adventures of others not actually having them myself.
A lot of pulp storytelling has not aged gracefully, or tastefully, but I try not to project modernity into less enlightened times. there are tropes which cause more than just an eyeroll 9Might not sound like much of an action but with the right eyebrows it can be devastating.) You just have to look at some of the interior sketches to see where I am coming from with that obsevation. Overall though, its the kind of adventurous journal i really enjoy, which I did with this one. It may not quite be Shangri-La but it is a lost horizon of sorts. It was a fast read and one I enjoyed. I am something of a Jules Verne armchair adventurer. Should I ever reach the North Pole it will be in a cardigan and carpet slippers, using gin as fuel for adventure.
