The Path to Rome

The Path to Rome by Hilaire Belloc, 448 pages

In 1901, Hilaire Belloc made a vow that he would walk from Toul, where he had served in the French army as an artilleryman, across Lorraine, over the Alps, and through northern Italy to Rome.  The Path to Rome is the tale of that pilgrimage, day by day, town by town,

"Across the valleys and the high-land
With all the world on either hand
Drinking when I had a mind to,
Singing when I felt inclined to;
Nor ever turned my face to home
Till I had slaked my heart at Rome."

For Belloc, Rome is not only his destination, but something to be found everywhere on his journey, a presence synonymous with civilization.  There is no real narrative thrust to this book, and other than a brief passage involving a perilous mountain ascent the only tension involves Belloc trying to make it to Milan before his money runs out.  Belloc mocks literary conventions, promising to tell a story about a bandit, for example, then, 200 pages later, writing merely that the bandit died a long time ago.  This book is a long walk with a remarkable man, listening to his perspectives, touching on history, philosophy, theology, poetry, and oenology, amongst many, many other topics.  Yet Belloc never stays with a subject long enough for a lecture or debate, since he is, as he sees it, merely observing what any reasonable person would observe, and if there's a problem, it's that there are so few truly reasonable people.  The book is enjoyable if, like me, you find Belloc a fascinating and entertaining companion.  If not, he probably wouldn't want to share the path with you, either.