The Old Patagonian Express

From Boston to the End of the World

Paul Theroux’s The Old Patagonian Express, published in 1979, is one of the classics of modern travel writing — a railway odyssey from his home in Boston all the way to the remote tip of South America, rendered with the sharp observation, vivid description, and acerbic wit that made Theroux the most celebrated travel writer of his generation. Following the enormous success of The Great Railway Bazaar, his account of an epic train journey across Asia, Theroux turned south, setting himself the goal of traveling overland by train from the comfortable suburbs of New England to the desolate, windswept end of the inhabited Americas, riding the famous “Old Patagonian Express” of the title. The result is a richly observed, absorbing, and characteristically prickly account of a continent and a journey — a book that helped define the modern literary travelogue and remains a model of the form.

The book’s structure is its journey: Theroux boards a commuter train in Boston and proceeds, by a long succession of trains, ever southward — through the United States to the Mexican border, down through Mexico and Central America, into and through the vast and varied landscapes of South America, and finally to Patagonia and the old narrow-gauge express that carries him to the end of the line. Along the way, he observes everything with his unsparing eye: the landscapes and cities, the railways themselves in all their decrepitude and romance, and above all the people — fellow passengers, locals, expatriates, the occasional famous writer (a memorable visit with Jorge Luis Borges in Buenos Aires). Theroux is less interested in tourist sights than in the texture of the journey, the character of the trains and their passengers, and his own observations and reactions, and the book accumulates into a rich, idiosyncratic portrait of the Americas as seen from the window of a train, and of the restless, observant traveler doing the seeing.

Sharp Observation and Acerbic Wit

The strengths of The Old Patagonian Express are Theroux’s gifts as an observer and a writer. He has a sharp, unsentimental eye and a vivid, economical prose style, and the book is full of brilliant descriptions of landscapes, trains, and especially people, captured with a novelist’s precision and a satirist’s edge. His encounters with fellow travelers and locals are rendered with wit and acuity, and his portraits — sometimes affectionate, often acerbic — bring the human texture of the journey to life. The book’s focus on the journey itself rather than on destinations, its attention to the experience and texture of train travel, and its honest inclusion of boredom, discomfort, and the traveler’s own moods give it a realism and a distinctive character that lift it above conventional travel writing. The famous meeting with Borges, who was blind and asked Theroux to read to him, is a highlight, one of several memorable set pieces.

The book is also valuable as a portrait of a continent and a moment. Theroux’s journey through the Americas of the late 1970s captures landscapes, societies, and a particular historical moment with vivid specificity, and his outsider’s eye notices much that a more reverent traveler might miss. His commitment to overland travel by train, to the slow accumulation of experience and observation rather than the quick consumption of sights, embodies a philosophy of travel — that the journey, not the destination, is the point — that has influenced generations of travel writers. As a classic of the form and a richly observed account of a remarkable journey, it amply rewards the reader.

The Prickly Traveler

Honesty requires noting that Theroux’s persona — sharp, detached, often misanthropic and judgmental — is divisive, and that his trademark acerbity, while a source of the book’s wit and honesty, can also grate. Theroux is frequently critical, even contemptuous, of the people and places he encounters, and his unsentimental eye can shade into sourness, condescension, or a cool superiority that some readers find off-putting. His is not the warm, generous travel writing of someone in love with the world; it is the sharp, skeptical, sometimes jaundiced view of a detached observer, and readers who prefer their travel writing affectionate and enthusiastic may find Theroux’s prickliness wearing. This misanthropic edge is integral to his distinctive voice and to the book’s honesty, but it is an acquired taste, and a real one.

Relatedly, the book is more about the journey and the traveler than about its destinations in any conventional sense. Readers hoping for rich engagement with the cultures, histories, and sights of the many countries Theroux passes through may be somewhat disappointed; his focus is on the experience of travel, the trains and passengers, and his own observations and reactions, rather than on deep immersion in the places themselves. This is a deliberate and defensible approach — the book is a travelogue of a journey, not a series of destination portraits — but it means The Old Patagonian Express offers the texture of travel and the character of a traveler more than a guide to the Americas. Readers should come to it for Theroux’s eye and the journey’s rhythm rather than for cultural depth about the countries traversed.

A Classic of the Form

The Old Patagonian Express endures as one of the classics of modern travel writing — a sharply observed, vividly written, absorbing railway odyssey from Boston to Patagonia that helped define the literary travelogue and remains a model of the form. Theroux’s gifts as an observer and stylist, his focus on the journey itself, and his memorable encounters make it a rich and rewarding read. His misanthropy and detachment are divisive and his focus is on the journey rather than the destinations, but for readers who appreciate sharp, honest, character-driven travel writing, it is a genuine classic.

For readers of travel writing and literary nonfiction, The Old Patagonian Express is an absorbing and rewarding read.

Final Verdict

Our rating: 4.0/5 — A classic of modern travel writing — a railway odyssey from Boston to Patagonia rendered with Theroux’s sharp observation and acerbic wit. Vivid and absorbing, with memorable encounters. His trademark misanthropy and detachment won’t suit everyone, and it’s more about the journey than the destinations, but it’s a model of the form.

For more great travel writing, see The Great Railway Bazaar, In Patagonia, and Wanderlust.