Shafik Meghji's Reading List

"Ghaith Abdul-Ahad reported extensively for The Guardian and The Washington Post after the US invasion of Iraq and I remember reading his dispatches at the time and in the years since. Published on the 20th anniversary of the invasion, his book combines journalism, memoir and travel writing to tell the stories of the people caught up in the maelstrom as, to quote the author, ‘their world fragmented.’ One of the things about this book that really stood out to me was how it gives, vitally, an Iraqi-centred account. I felt that I was getting a 360º perspective of the situation, rather than stereotypes. It’s a powerful book. I think it reflects his sense of seeing his country change so dramatically over such a short period of time to the extent that he can feel lost in places that were once familiar. In many ways, he was perfectly placed to navigate what is obviously an incredibly difficult and dangerous situation, somethinng that he has experienced first hand. It was different to other books that I’ve read on the conflict and I really enjoyed his perspective. It’s a hard-hitting book, so perhaps I shouldn’t say ‘enjoy’—it’s a tough subject matter, to state the obvious. But it is a powerful book that stays with you."

"The Britannias journeys from Neolithic ruins in Orkney, across the Isle of Wight, Iona, the Channel Islands and even Bermuda to present-day Thanet and Westminster, exploring the topography, stories, legends, ancient sites and forgotten characters of the British Isles. One of the things that stood out is that Alice Albinia goes beyond the well-worn, male-focused view of the past and highlights female histories that have been overlooked or shut down. I’d enjoyed her previous book, Empires of the Indus , so was particularly keen to read this one. From a writer’s point of view, she does an incredible amount of research and uses a huge array of sources: myths, poetry, Roman literature, newspapers, plus first-hand interviews and her own travels. Yes. It’s one of the themes that came out of the pandemic, which forced us all to look inwards and examine the areas we live in or that we think of as familiar. I know I certainly did that during the lockdown in 2020. It can be a rewarding and enlightening experience—I learned a huge amount about the history, culture, myths and legends of Britain from this book."

"Several of the books on the shortlist are centred around walks or hikes, including The Gathering Place , which traces Mary Colwell’s 500-mile solo pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago. The author notes that this pilgrimage in particular, and pilgrimages in general, have always drawn people during times of strife and upheaval. Fittingly, she walked the Camino during the autumn/winter of 2020, still at the height of the pandemic. I’ve read travel books written about the same period that either ignore or underplay the pandemic. In The Gathering Place , it’s present throughout and Colwell does a great job of finding parallels with plagues and epidemics from the past. This adds a rich texture to her journey, as she delves into the history, stories and characters associated with the Camino. She also blends in diary entries from her previous travels, while painting perceptive portraits of her fellow pilgrims. She has a poetic touch and her enthusiasm for the subject really shines through. Absolutely. Classically, in a travelogue, a walk from point A to point B gives you a clear journey and structure to base the book around. The idea of pilgrimage—both religious and secular—seems to be a popular theme in travel writing right now. There are quite a few other books coming out on the subject over the coming months, such as On This Holy Island: A Modern Pilgrimage Across Britain by Oliver Smith and Wayfarer: Love, Loss and Life on Britain’s Ancient Paths by Phoebe Smith. So The Gathering Place feels like a timely book in that sense, too."

"It was fascinating to read this book alongside A Stranger in Your Own City— they make excellent companion pieces. Wounded Tigris is a river journey along the length of the Tigris, from its source in the Turkish mountains, across northern Syria and through Iraq. The author, Leon McCarron, is a writer and filmmaker who was based in Iraq at the time of the research. In many ways, it’s a classic-style travelogue: it has a well-paced narrative and McCarron is an empathetic writer who paints vivid and sympathetic portraits of the people he meets, as well as the river’s historical, cultural, political and economic significance. He also emphasised the immense environmental challenges it faces—it’s good to see a piece of travel writing fully engaging with the climate emergency. This is another book that will stay with you. Yes. I think the idea of the travel writer as some kind of impartial ‘observer’ who is completely objective about the places he or she sees is thankfully being consigned to the past. Travel writers are on the frontlines of many of the touchstone issues of the 21st century. I’ve certainly found that in my own experience of writing about Latin America. In terms of the climate crisis, you have to wilfully ignore it for it not to be foregrounded in your work. In Wounded Tigris , it’s very much at the forefront and McCarron clearly outlines the human impact. He shows that this is not something to think about in the future: this is happening to people now, and has been happening to them for many years. So yes, it’s very welcome that travel writing is becoming increasingly politically engaged. Though, of course, travel writing has always been political, whether authors have acknowledged it or not."

"So this is another hike, and I think the longest one on the shortlist—a dramatic 1000-mile hike through the mountainous north Caucasus, passing through seven Russian republics from the Black Sea to the Caspian. One of the key elements of this book is that Tom Parfitt, a longtime newspaper correspondent in Moscow, deftly weaves in his own experiences, including the trauma of covering the 2004 Beslan school siege in which more than 300 hostages died. On the hike he also explores the region’s landscapes, peoples, cultures and extremely turbulent history. It was a journey he did some years ago, but the book feels very topical as there are obviously some striking parallels with the current situation in Ukraine. As an author, he also has a crisp, engaging writing style, which I really enjoyed. Whenever I travel for work or pleasure, I always like to read local literature and travel writing about that place. It gives a different insight into the culture and history of the places you are experiencing. I was lucky enough to read High Caucasus while I was travelling through the Georgian side of the Caucasus and I had a much richer experience as a result. Absolutely. The ‘death’ of travel writing has become its own trope, wheeled out every few years. But it’s one of the oldest forms of writing and there is always going to be a need for it. The books on this shortlist, and many others that have been released in recent years, show that travel writing is in a good state of health. And there are plenty of books coming out soon that I’m excited about too. In recent years, we have started to see a diversification of travel writing. There are more authors from a broader range of backgrounds, and they are helping to reinvigorate the genre by bringing fresh perspectives and covering places, cultures and histories that have been overlooked or even actively suppressed. One thing I love about travel writing is that it is a capacious genre. There are lots of different elements you can bring into it, whatever topic you want to cover or style you want to use. This year’s shortlists—not just for the Edward Stanford Travel Book of the Year, but also the Viking Award for Fiction with a Sense of Place and the Children’s Travel Book of the Year—really illustrate that. So, yes, I’m very positive about the future of travel writing."