In which a New York Times book reviewer retraces via automobile, train and planes the route taken by the 7th century Buddhist Monk Hsuan Tsang through China and India in his journey to achieve enlightenment. If that sound's ambiguous it was meant to be so, the retracing of the journey of the monk is meant to juxtapose the experiences of a traveller today with those of the monk some 1300 years ago. And the narrator generously (too generously) shares with us his own spiritual angst as that of a middle aged Jewish man who is unable to commit to wife or religion, the monks quest becoming, in a way, his own.
In theory this should have been a great travel book. I mean, shucks, "The New York Times Book Review" has a blurb on the cover that reads: "Wonderful...Deserves to become a classic in its own right" . Which, when you think about it, makes sense as Richard Bernstein works for "The New York Times Book Review". Reviewing books. Hopefully they didn't assign him this to read. Or, quite possibly, they did. Which would explain the review.
That said, it was OK, but with so many good and great books out there I wouldn't take the time out to read it. Somehow the narrator failed to engage me, the people, places, situations, were not my own. But it did inspire me to research some other travel authors who might interest me more....
Review: (In keeping with the Buddhist theme): "The sound of 1 hand clapping"