Remote People
Condition: SECONDHAND
This is a secondhand book. The jacket image is a photograph of the exact copy we have in stock. This image shows the condition of this book. Further condition remarks are below.
Condition remarks:
Book: Good
Jacket: Very good
Pages: Good
In the early 1930s, Evelyn Waugh embarked on a journey through East Africa and the Horn of Africa, and Remote People chronicles that extraordinary adventure with the razor-sharp wit and incisive observation that made him one of the twentieth century's most celebrated prose stylists. Beginning with the coronation of Emperor Haile Selassie in Abyssinia — a spectacle of Byzantine grandeur and barely concealed chaos — Waugh traverses Ethiopia, Kenya, the Congo, and Aden, presenting a portrait of a colonial world caught in the throes of modernity and ancient tradition simultaneously. Waugh's travel writing is never mere reportage; it is a vehicle for his devastating comic sensibility and his profound disillusionment with both the imperial project and its critics. Remote People sits alongside Labels and Ninety-Two Days as a cornerstone of his non-fiction output, illustrating his genius for rendering the absurd with elegant precision. His prose dissects ceremony, bureaucracy, and human folly with equal relish, leaving the reader perpetually uncertain whether to laugh or to mourn — a tension that renders this account as vital today as when it was first written.
Author: Evelyn Waugh
Format: Hardback
Genre: Travel & exploration
Condition remarks:
Book: Good
Jacket: Very good
Pages: Good
In the early 1930s, Evelyn Waugh embarked on a journey through East Africa and the Horn of Africa, and Remote People chronicles that extraordinary adventure with the razor-sharp wit and incisive observation that made him one of the twentieth century's most celebrated prose stylists. Beginning with the coronation of Emperor Haile Selassie in Abyssinia — a spectacle of Byzantine grandeur and barely concealed chaos — Waugh traverses Ethiopia, Kenya, the Congo, and Aden, presenting a portrait of a colonial world caught in the throes of modernity and ancient tradition simultaneously. Waugh's travel writing is never mere reportage; it is a vehicle for his devastating comic sensibility and his profound disillusionment with both the imperial project and its critics. Remote People sits alongside Labels and Ninety-Two Days as a cornerstone of his non-fiction output, illustrating his genius for rendering the absurd with elegant precision. His prose dissects ceremony, bureaucracy, and human folly with equal relish, leaving the reader perpetually uncertain whether to laugh or to mourn — a tension that renders this account as vital today as when it was first written.