The Best American Travel Writing 2017

September 15, 2017

Travel writing has changed. As the world becomes more accessible and interconnected, clearly defined cultures become less distinct. Take, for example the Alaskan villagers in Saki Knafo's "Waiting on a Whale at the End of the World," who attempt to continue their tradition of whaling, while returning home to their smart phones and reality TV. Then there is the effort to maintain one's culture while trying to avoid "chiefing," or selling it as a commercial commodity, as Stephanie Elizondo Griest explores in "Chiefing in Cherokee." From quirky subcultures to the overarching Syrian refugee crisis to the sameness and differences within cultures, religions, and politics, the essays here reshape the notion of travel writing. Even Wells Tower's hilarious sarcastic essay of a trip gone awry addresses the issue of changes in travel and the overcrowding in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The foreword by "Best American" series editor Jason Wilson questions whether travel writing is dead; this compilation offers a resounding no. VERDICT This gratifying compilation jaunts across countries, cultures, religions, and history and is admirably suited for both armchair travelers and general readers who enjoy knowledgeable writing.--Stacy Shaw, Orange, CA

Copyright 2017 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

September 15, 2017
In his foreword to this collection, now in its eighteenth year, series editor Wilson candidly notes that there was a noticeable lack of traditional travel writing published in the U.S. in 2016, as pages having been dedicated, instead, to covering a dizzying election. Reminding readers that revelations occur every time we move, guest editor Collins casts a broader net: Travel writing, in 2017, might be thought of simply as writing about space and time. Further, she notes, she wanted this year's collection to reflect its specific moment. With or without all this consideration, this is a moving and impressive addition to the series. Jodi Kantor and Catrin Einhorn introduce readers to the challenges and successes of Syrian refugees and their Canadian sponsors. Stephanie Elizondo Griest revisits Cherokee, Virginia, an indigenous Disneyland that troubled her 15 years before. David Kushner's funny retelling of an American's instant Icelandic fame, earned for getting fabulously lost, pauses to parse the effects of modern reliance on GPS systems. Reggie Ugwu's trip to Nigeria is an openhearted, emotional journey through family and loss.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2017, American Library Association.)

September 21, 2020
Macfarlane opens this provocative but unfortunately timed entry in the long-running series with a sobering message: “I write from a world in which travel has stopped.” Indeed, readers may feel a jarring sense of dissonance delving into suddenly anachronistic essays on unfettered travel, though they often are framed with still-relevant political conscience. Kyle Chayka probes what it means to have an “authentic” experience in Iceland, where tourists outnumbered inhabitants. Alejandra Oliva accompanies Central American migrants traveling north in hopes of entering the United States, and Jackie Bryant deposits water jugs in the Sonoran Desert for those who surreptitiously cross the border and risk dehydration. Lacy M. Johnson attends a memorial service for an Icelandic glacier that melted due to global warming. In a standout piece, Ashley Powers illuminates an essential Sicilian sense of multiculturism through the lives of migrants who are revivifying Palermo’s once abandoned alleyways. “We don’t say, when we were invaded by Arabs,” a Sicilian tells her. “We say, when we were Arabs.” Shanna B. Tiayon similarly distills the U.S. into its essential parts when she describes a family vacation to the Grand Canyon marred by racism. These layered explorations of who travels how (and why) offer a discomfiting but rewarding armchair experience of the world at large. Agent: Jim Rutman, Sterling Lord Literistic. (Nov.)Correction: An earlier version of this review misstated Ashley Powers's last name.