Product Description

"I come from Des Moines. Somebody had to."

And, as soon as Bill Bryson was old enough, he left. Des Moines couldn't hold him, but it did lure him back. After ten years in England he returned to the land of his youth, and drove almost 14,000 miles in search of a mythical small town called Amalgam, the kind of smiling village where the movies from his youth were set. Instead he drove through a series of horrific burgs, which he renamed Smellville, Fartville, Coleslaw, Coma, and Doldrum. At best his search led him to Anywhere, USA, a lookalike strip of gas stations, motels and hamburger outlets populated by obese and slow-witted hicks with a partiality for synthetic fibres. He discovered a continent that was doubly lost: lost to itself because he found it blighted by greed, pollution, mobile homes and television; lost to him because he had become a foreigner in his own country.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #1946004 in Books
• Published on: 2004-02
• Original language: English
• Binding: Audio CD

From Amazon.com
A travelogue by Bill Bryson is as close to a sure thing as funny books get. The Lost Continent is no exception. Following an urge to rediscover his youth (he should know better), the author leaves his native Des Moines, Iowa, in a journey that takes him across 38 states. Lucky for us, he brought a notebook.

With a razor wit and a kind heart, Bryson serves up a colorful tale of boredom, kitsch, and beauty when you least expect it. Gentler elements aside, The Lost Continent is an amusing book. Here's Bryson on the women of his native state: "I will say this, however--and it's a strange, strange thing--the teenaged daughters of these fat women are always utterly delectable ... I don't know what it is that happens to them, but it must be awful to marry one of those nubile cuties knowing that there is a time bomb ticking away in her that will at some unknown date make her bloat out into something huge and grotesque, presumably all of a sudden and without much notice, like a self-inflating raft from which the pin has been yanked."

Yes, Bill, but be honest: what do you really think?

From Publishers Weekly
Bryson, a freelance journalist, succumbed to nostalgia upon returning home to Iowa after living for 20 years in England: he decided to relive the dreary vacation car trips of his American childhood. Starting out at his mother's house in Des Moines, he motors through 38 states over the course of two months, looking for the quintessential American small town--something he never encountered as a boy, and certainly doesn't discover now, as he tours superhighways, motels, shopping malls, fast-food joints and tourist traps. And, like a bored, bemused minor tagging along after adults, he trashes almost everything he sees, including the Smithsonian Museum and the trees in Sequoia National Park. Some of Bryson's comments are hilarious--if you enjoy the nonstop whining wisecracks of a 36-year-old kid. First serial to Cond e Nast Traveler; BOMC alternate.
Copyright 1989 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
An expatriate American now living in England chronicles a trip around the United States in which he describes American foibles to the British. The first two chapters capture the tedium of a family vacation and the daffy absurdity of life in the author's home state of Iowa. Midwesterners will grab friends to read choice bits, saying "see." But after these wonderful opening chapters, the author's comic tricks become repetitive: "then I said this outrageous thing; no, not really, but . . . . " While the sometimes irrelevant statistics are interesting, they, too eventually become tedious. As the book grinds on, it descends into a litany of "then I went here, and next I went there." Browsers reading the opening bits will snatch it off the shelves, but many will return it unfinished. ($100,000 promotion; 50,000 copy first printing).
- Nora Rawlinson, "Library Journal"
Copyright 1989 Reed Business Information, Inc.