A Book of Migrations: Some Passages in Ireland

by Rebecca Solnit

In this acclaimed exploration of the culture of others, Rebecca Solnit travels through Ireland, the land of her long-forgotten maternal ancestors. A Book of Migrations portrays in microcosm a history made of great human tides of invasion, colonization, emigration, nomadism and tourism. Enriched by cross-cultural comparisons with the history of the American West, A Book of Migrations carves a new route through Ireland’s history, literature and landscape.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Ireland, Essays, History, Memoir, Biography

194 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1997

About the author

Writer, historian, and activist Rebecca Solnit is the author of more than twenty books on feminism, western and indigenous history, popular power, social change and insurrection, wandering  and walking, hope and disaster, including Call Them By Their True Names (Winner of the 2018 Kirkus Prize for Nonfiction), Cinderella Liberator, Men Explain Things to Me, The Mother of All Questions, and Hope in the Dark, and co-creator of the City of Women map, all published by Haymarket Books; a trilogy of atlases of American cities, The Faraway Nearby, A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities that Arise in Disaster, A Field Guide to Getting Lost, Wanderlust: A History of Walking, and River of Shadows: Eadweard Muybridge and the Technological Wild West (for which she received a Guggenheim, the National Book Critics Circle Award in criticism, and the Lannan Literary Award). Her forthcoming memoir, Recollections of My Nonexistence, is scheduled to release in March, 2020. A product of the California public education system from kindergarten to graduate school, she is a columnist at the Guardian and a regular contributor to Literary Hub.

Reviews

[Marco Etheridge · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rebecca Solnit's "A Book of Migrations" is a collection of essays that loosely trace her travels in Western Ireland. This collection was originally published in 1998, by Verso. It was released in a new edition in 2011. I was gifted this book by my good friend James Gilmore, photographer extraordinaire and conflicted Irishman. You can check out his extraordinary work here:

http://www.jamesgilmore.net/

There are seventeen essays in this book, the sum total of which do not in any way make up a travel book. This is not a guide to wandering the Emerald Isle, nor is it meant to be. The tagline on my edition is from the New York Times: "A brilliant meditation on travel." Perhaps. It is true that the essays are brilliant; written in a prose that dances very close to poetry. But a meditation on travel? No, I think this is a tagline, like any other; meant to lure the undecided reader. Perhaps a more truthful tagline would read: "A brilliant rumination on what it means to be a traveler."

I use the word rumination with clear purpose. I found myself chewing on each of Ms. Solnit's essays. Days after I had finished one, I would still be pleasantly digesting the contents. These essays deal with very large issues, each somehow scaled down to human size. Invasion, colonization, emigration, integral parts of understanding Ireland, and all mulled over whilst walking a wet Irish roadway.

The Author deftly explores what it is to be sedentary, attached to the smallest imaginable plot of land. She contrasts this with the life of the nomad, of the traveler. What does it mean to be a traveler? What does it mean to be a tourist? Ms. Solnit delves into the notion that by the mere act of arrival, travelers change the place where they set their feet. This is an ongoing conversation amongst travelers that I know; a conversation that I have long participated in. I appreciated Ms. Solnit's thoughts and insights.

This is a book about Ireland, surely, although most certainly not a detailed itinerary of travel. The essays are a series of microcosms. The reader will be rewarded with glimmering sketches of the land; rock walls in the rain, turf springing underfoot. Behind these glimpses of wet stone and green grass are the bedrock of Ireland: History, literature, language, and story. This book deals with the idea of place, the experience of belonging or not belonging. Theses essays are a slow pause to think about place itself, rather than any one specific location.

Progressing through the essays, one finds the subtle links, the threads of themes running beneath the surface of the preceding essay, or perhaps the one before that. The reader should be prepared for the journey, complete with at least a passing knowledge of the history, culture, and literature of Ireland. Or, plunge right in and keep Google Search close at hand. I say this more as a preparatory caution. The Author weaves the cloth of her essays with references to Swift and Joyce, Cromwell and Parnell. There is much here to chew on, to ruminate.

I highly recommend this book, though with the cautions stated above. This is not a light read, nor a quick blog entry to be skimmed over coffee. Ms. Solnit writes heady, poetic prose; prose that is rife with ideas, insights, and questions. It is very much worth the time invested, and pays dividends long after the last essay is completed.

[Cody · Rating 5 out of 5]

Drawing parallels between her actual homeland of California and ancestral homeland of Ireland, Rebecca Solnit pens a prismatic travel tale, a journey that’s as much inward as outward and as much about the act of travel as traveling in a specific locale. Book of Migrations is a kind of history book, too, one that muddies the usual takes on the past by mingling the personal and the marginalized with the ascendant and traditional.

Throughout, Solnit attempts to situate herself and those she encounters in the landscapes she walks across, but footholds quickly give way, leaving, at best, blurry insights. Yet, it’s this indeterminacy that makes Book of Migrations so meaningful, as it reminds us, crucially, of the mutability of identity, a starkly contrasting take to the far more traditional notions of character and culture as sedentary and fixed. It’s this fluidity that Solnit wants us to embrace as, like travel, its importance lies in the journey--with its motion, change, and newness--not the destination.

[Padraic · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pure coincidence I found this book. Solnit is a great, great writer. That she wrote something in my narrow area of interest is one of the best pieces of luck I've had as a reader. Deep, fluid, incredibly intelligent. If George Elliot had written a guide to Connemara, it might read like this.

[Pat · Rating 3 out of 5]

Solnit is a very good writer, but too discursive, rambling and ruminative for my tastes. It's hard work for the rewards. That said, I recommend the book for its portrait of the Tinkers, aka, the Travellers, as the Irish gypsies prefer to call themselves.

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am not sure when I read it but it was beautifully written. I am reading a recent book by Solnit The Mother of All Questions, a stunning feminist tract. She is an exceptional writer and I recommend readers of her recent work who are interested in Ireland, read this book.

[Dave · Rating 3 out of 5]

Starting this I was a little worried that it might be one of those books that basically just glorifies travelling and the stupid upper-class liberal belief that everyone needs to "see the world." Being a big advocate for localization and simple living I just have no patience for that idea at this point. Fortunately though Rebecca Solnit is sort of into a lot of the same things I am and therefore puts a little more of a radical spin on the topic than the typical travelogue. This leads to some interesting musings on imperialism, indigenous cultures, the tourism industry, environmentalism, and even a quick mention of bioregionalism. At times her writing kind of reminded me of David Abram's stuff, going off on these weird poetic tangents that lead you to visualize things in a way you might see them while using psychedelic drugs or something. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. There is value in it, even if only to encourage you to stay open-minded to new ideas about things that you might think you already know everything about. It can get a little carried away at times though, like reading an overly ambitious 13 year old girl's diary. I definitely rolled my eyes and made a jerking off hand gesture on more than one occasion to be honest. But overall there is enough good here to be worth reading in my opinion.

[Chase · Rating 5 out of 5]

Acutely articulated wonderful wandering- with Solnit I am always learning, thinking, being challenged and having my eyes opened while also feeling kinship and understanding. Loved this one in particular because the subject matter was already so exciting to me.

[Shanta · Rating 4 out of 5]

This blend of history, natural science, and (mostly literary) cultural reflections in a travel journal format links Rebecca Solnit's personal journey to place both in terms of political-social identity and the physical, living environment. Her writing contains that elusive mixture of information, context and reflection which distinguishes the shared experience and insight of a personally and socially true story from non-fiction writing that poses as being merely informational while leaving out much on a basis that falsely equates oppressive minority power with objectivity. Her prose is often poetic, both beautiful and engaging. Her insights are remarkable mainly for how right on they are and how seldom if ever one hears them voiced so well. Her description in "Chapter 9: A Pound of Feathers" of the conference speakers in contrast with their audience in the last two sentences of page 124, for example, made me wish other people would read it. That it was followed up by "And a Pound of Lead," is an example of how the poetic structure can be used at every level of nonfiction writing, not only to make it more of a pleasure to read it, but to keep the genre honest, balanced and whole.

[clove · Rating 3 out of 5]

there were aspects of "a book of migrations" that reminded me of sadiya hartman's "lose your mother" though far less well executed. the concept of exploring your ancestral homeland only to find it fraught with disconnection and dis-identification, grappling with histories of colonization and the economic necessity of tourism in Ireland changing the culture- these are potent themes. but where solnit could dive deeper into social history, she rambles about hiking journeys and people she met, relatively dull travel stories that she only loosely connects to history. tell me more about deforestation, about the hunting down of poets. the history solnit does present is often focused on an individual's narrative and span the globe, the threads sometimes seeming loosely wound. overall, i know more about Ireland's history than i did going into this book, but am left wanting much more.

[Tyler · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really love Solnit's writing and her perspective on things. This one however was a little uneven for me. At times I thought it was great, others a little dry. Not a bad read though and some very interesting history and takes on Ireland.

[Jen Bracken-Hull · Rating 4 out of 5]

I want to be able to think the way early Rebecca Solnit does in this essay collection-constantly challenging romanticism, interrogating the romanticization of origins and history, open to mysticism, and much more comfortable with questions than answers.

[Helen McClory]

enjoyably tangential and curious

[Sara · Rating 4 out of 5]

She's such a great writer, and I loved hearing her thoughts on many aspects of Ireland. This was written in the mid to late 1990's. I think Ireland has changed a lot in the 20+ years since then.

[Keith Skinner · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book because I also want to weave history and culture into my travel narratives. Who better to learn from than one of the great provocative essayists?

I read the original edition from 1997. Though all the essays resonate with Solnit's characteristic brilliance, not all of them were successful, in my opinion. "The Book of Invasions," one of the first essays, was masterful in places but fell flat in others. For my taste, I found that Solnit's revelations about Ireland's early history were most successful when she was able to tie them to her own personal journey of discovery, whether it was uncovering something about herself or her new adopted home.

"Articles of Faith," on the other hand, was flawless and breathtaking in its approach to sensing both inner and outer worlds as a single organism.

All in all, I was grateful to share this journey with Solnit, as a traveler, as someone interested in Celtic heritage, and as a writer. Those parts I regarded as weaknesses were immensely instructive and those soaring parts where Solnit is at her best are not only instructive but serve as a target for my own work. This book stays on my shelf for future reference.

[Josephine Ensign · Rating 1 out of 5]

I love Ireland and all its complexities. I bought and read this book hoping to expand my knowledge of and complicate my thoughts about Ireland. I also bought/read the book wanting to finally find a book by Solnit that I could like. I suppose it is a personal style issue but I find her writing to be highly irritating--the lengthy digressions--the solipsism...With this book I tried hard to suspend my judgements and search hard for what other readers find to be good in her writing, but I admit defeat.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

One I'd started ages ago. Interesting musings about home and about Ireland. My favorite was a passage about how, growing up in California, it seemed like history was something that took place out east or in Europe, and that it made her feel like she'd been colonized. It struck a chord with me, even though I come from a place (Texas) that is pretty good about taking pride in local history... for two grades out of twelve.

[Lisa Houlihan]

Wandering through Ireland, foot and soul.

[Nathan Albright · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was mercifully short, but frustrating to read.  There are times in this book where I wondered if the author would become self-aware, but sadly, such moments never came.  It is not as if the opportunities for self-awareness were not there, as the author writes about numerous aspects of Irish life and her own travels and reflections, and there are some occasions where these travels would appear to present opportunities for reflection and maturity, but the moments pass with the author venting her spleen against men, imperialism, the Roman Catholic Church, and other fashionable leftist targets.  Perhaps the authors screed against tourism would have discouraged her from becoming an expatriate leftist?  Nope.  Perhaps her realization of the disconnect between Irish history as it happened and as it is viewed by the Irish would lead her to be less inclined to support various neo-pagan leftist views?  Nope.  Perhaps her qualification for Irish citizenship by virtue of her blood tie would lead her to be more understanding of the legitimacy of benign forms of nationalism?  Nope.  The author appears content in her inconsistencies and convinced of her rightness of perspective, and reality has not yet been strong enough to disabuse her of these illusions.

This book consists of seventeen essays that average around ten pages apiece.  The author talks about her pilgrimages in Ireland and the people she meets on planes, compares tourism to invasion (2), comments (with some mockery) on the way that the alphabet is often learned through a reference to animals (3), looks at the treason and homosexuality of Sir Roger Casement (4) and his noted fondness for collecting butterflies (5).  She talks about beggars (5), claims that Ireland is like an anchor in her road as she deals with the tension of traveling and settling (6), examines the tension of identity of the Scot-Irish and Irish (7, 9, 10), the rock-based worship of early Irish people (8), looks at nationalism and the issue of blood (11), talks about rock collecting (12), praises liberal Catholic environmentalism (13), talks about the political radicalism of bardic poetry (14), praises the activism of LGBT Irish in seeking to march in Irish and Irish-American parades (15), praises travelers who disdain settling (16), and talks about her own time in Dublin (17).  By and large, the essays are rather self-absorbed and it seems as if she is collecting experiences and seeking to bolster her own fashionable leftist perspective rather than learn from the course of her own travels, unfortunately.

Ultimately, this is a book that you will appreciate a great deal more if you agree with the author's perspective.  I don't, and so where others might see praiseworthy ideological commitment, I see tiresome and tedious error held tenaciously.  As is often the case in reading the writings of others, one's perspective matters a great deal, and that is especially true of works as strident as this one.  The author seemingly leaves little opportunity unused for political benefit, whether it is in insulting the British for their imperial abuses, blaming Americans for teaching some Congolese soldiers how to torture, or talking about fears of interpentratability as leading to hostility towards someone who sought to ally with Germany in World War I in order to support Irish freedom, which was sufficient reason itself to wish for his well-earned death, even if he had served British interests in pointing out the imperial flaws of others.  Like so many volumes, though, this book boils down to politics, as the author's own political worldview is so strident that one's opinion of the work will rely on whether or not one agrees with her or not, and if one disagrees with her, there is very little to like about this book at all.

[Juliano · Rating 4 out of 5]

“There are fashions in remembering and forgetting: the melting pot assimilationist ideal of much of this century celebrated jettisoning the past to reach more quickly a utopian future like a shimmering white city”. Rebecca Solnit’s A Book of Migrations recounts “some passages in Ireland”; a stunning piece of travel writing infused with personal memoir and historical biography, Solnit connects with her previously unfamiliar heritage in Ireland with enthusiasm and empathy, immersing herself in a variety of its geography and its socio-political history, with one particularly brilliant chapter tackling prejudice faced by Travellers in Ireland, sympathetic to the struggles of remaining nomadic in a hostile, settled world and cognisant of the fact that there are parallels between the Irish treatment of Travellers and the English treatment of the Irish. Elsewhere, Solnit writes on Irish literature and writers, on Ireland’s fraught political and religious histories and bold, radical figures, and above all on the people she meets, the landscapes she travels, and the natural world she encounters, replenishing.

[Carol White · Rating 3 out of 5]

I started with high hopes. Her early paragraphs on what a trip to explore an aspect of her identity least known or understood could do for the psyche resonated with me. I was planning a similar trip to Cornwall in the fall. (since put off because of you know what) But, alas, reading this book felt like panning for gold. I started in late March and just finished now. Too few nuggets and too much sand slowing down my progress. Her view of the negative effect of tourism in the early chapter The Book of Invasions was insightful and beautifully written. But then I started to get lost in her stream of consciousness writing, interminable sentences, and lack of focus. I only finished it because I had already invested so much time…. I do like the way she travels, though. Only partly planned, plenty of alone time to encounter the unexpected and meet the locals. No tour guides curating the experiences.

[Christina Roman · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the most beautiful books on travel; the act itself and what it means. Though at times the book becomes overly dense as she reaches for meanings in every corner of her experience and literary passions, it is forgivable because she often finds a glimmer of truth that sparks off the page. I found myself going slowly through this book since I was so often confronted ideas I wanted to sit with and digest, ideally while staring out a train window at a strange countryside.

This is a book I would happily return to again.

"Sometimes it seems to me that time and memory are laid out in a secret geography that can never be mapped directly..."

[Molly Delaney Jones · Rating 2 out of 5]

I find that Americans have a lot of trouble writing about Ireland without being extremely condescending. For every really profound thought that kept me moving through these essays, there were several parts that were just really cringe worthy. For example, I think it’s very strange to refer to a real life woman you ran into and spoke to multiple times as “the giantess” throughout the book??
And maybe this example rubbed the wrong way because I grew up near New Orleans where carriage rides are still a thing in the quarter, but to site the horse-drawn carriages in Dublin City Centre as signs of a country frozen in the past is a really unnuanced way of looking at this.

[Tamara · Rating 4 out of 5]

A feasting pilgrimage on foot through word

Solnit has captured a spectrum of wild and domestic lifestyles one pursues and encounters when on foot in a foreign place one didn't grow up in. She shares anecdotes, histories, geographies and humanities all purposefully navel gazing and outwardly perspective as a way of sororitising ancestry and travel. A great read for nomads, expats, travellers, gypsies and seekers to enhance, allow and approve all ways of being in the world

[Hannah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Solnit's prose is beautiful; I am impressed with how she is able to weave so much history, literature, culture, and general insight into the story of her travels.

I found this hard to get through for some reason-- maybe just my mindset at the time of reading? I think I'd like to come back to this one day, with a highlighter in hand.

[Terry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really a deep, and brilliant, way to examine Ireland, and the world.

Some of the observations are dated--the book is nearly 30 years old and Ireland has changed very prooundly over these years. But Solnit's explorations are very rich with insight and understanding. I'll read anything she writes.

[Catherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book commuting on the bus and between classes and waiting for friends at cafés and migrated with it in my mind. This book is objectively about Ireland but I’m going to remember it as having been about Argentina. I loved it. I really really loved it.

[David Felton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully written poetically & intellectually meandering meditation on Ireland, its people, those who've stayed & those who've left, its history and its present, the nature of memory & storytelling, the reasons & modes of travel, the ways & means of being in & moving through landscape.

[Sarah Foulc · Rating 3 out of 5]

Golden segments but otherwise tedious and a drag to read. I am a huge Solnit fan and I prefer her other work. Then again, this was one of her earlier works, and I started strong with my first reads of this author, which were I think the most recent books she wrote.

[Megan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Essays and thoughts while traveling Ireland that manage to not be incredibly personal and not just entirely about the land itself. Some topics inspired me to check out history she mentioned or author’s works that she alluded to.

[Marion Grau · Rating 4 out of 5]

Classic Solnit. Great stuff. Sometimes i wish she would go a bit deeper.