Booked Porch (Part 2 of 3) ...

(Continued) In his book, Mark Twain, Travel Books, and Tourism, author Jeffrey Alan Melton begins by dissecting the hobby of tourism, the concept of traveller and the cultural phenomenon of tourism that rose to prominence in America during the 18^th century, part of which, as he would argue and I would agree, resulted from Mark Twain’s incandescent brilliance, and impeccable travel writing. It was for his books such as The Innocents Abroad, A Tramp Abroad and Following the Equator that Twain was widely famous, not for his novels Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, as today’s readers would most commonly believe and be mistaken. As Melton, and I, would put it: in America, with Twain, rose tourism. But as Twain would modestly write in The Innocents Abroad, he was merely “drifting with the tide of a great popular movement.” But what is this “great popular movement?” It requires definition.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines the noun travel as “the act of travelling” and verb, to travel as “to make a journey, typically of some length.” This definition is as critical to later points as it is apt and helpfully lucid. Remember this. It will come in handy later.

But as is of considerable value to the ethos behind travel writing comes the representation of the person that is travelling and duly the representation of all people that travel, i.e. the travel-er. But yet, I do not wish to confuse this with “traveller,” as that is a term not to be thrown around lightly. Melton quickly acknowledges the importance of this distinction:

“Don’t be a tourist,” advises a high rotation commercial for The Travel Channel ... These words convey two messages simultaneously: the more direct one encourages viewers to tune into The Travel Channel to learn about foreign cultures and thereby avoid mistakes and embarrassing situations while travelling; the indirect one encourages viewers to stay at home and watch the rest of the world from the comfort of their armchairs. “Don’t be a tourist,” indeed. We need also to consider a third implication, a message that has been intertwined with tourist mentality since the beginning of that boom in the mid-nineteenth century. The subtext of the direct message reads: by learning of foreign cultures – by watching television, in this case – one can transcend being a “tourist” (a lowly creature) to become a “traveller” (an altogether impressive creature) (5-6).

The importance of this distinction is vital, but Melton is not the first to acknowledge this. When going anywhere, no matter what one’s specific goals are, people travelling (note here that this does not necessarily mean a “traveller”) wish to shed the repulsive glitter of tourism, and vow to gain wisdom and enjoyment to by means of “learning of foreign cultures,” regardless of what their specific goals and planned activities are, hence why people pay thousands of dollars/pounds/euros (the phenomenon is universal) simply to leave their homes and experience another part of the world.

In specific relation to this point was my extensively less developed mini-ethos on my trip to Prague. Despite recognizing that fact that I was a tourist, (which it is unknowable how many tourists do or do not realize this point), it was a main wish of mine to, paradoxically, feel as though this reality was not so. In accordance with Melton’s description of the “tourist” as a “lowly creature,” I wished to shed this widely held notion. In Americans Abroad, Henry James’ cunning wit pinpoints this very concept that I, and every other ‘travelling person,’ American or otherwise, wishes to avoid: “A very large proportion of Americans who annually scatter themselves over Europe are by no means flattering to the national vanity. Their merits, whatever they are, are not of a sort that strikes the eye – still less the ear. They are ill-made, ill-mannered, ill-dressed” (209). As, in my trip to Prague, I would only concede to James’ admonition of “ill-dressed,” but I would contest his other allegations in my particular case, which exemplifies both the stereotype of the tourist and the ‘travelling person’s’ wish to break from it. Melton examines the “separation of traveller and tourist identities,” and establishes the divide of high (altogether impressive creature) and low (lowly creature) cultural ideals between the two identities, the praise of the “traveller” and the disdain for the “tourist.”

With this division in identity of ‘travelling-people’ to “tourist” and “traveller,” comes division in ideology and activity and the dilemma of defining the crucial, separating difference. Melton writes, “Critics have long recognized this struggle and illustrate the deep abiding desire to distinguish between desirable travellers and the undesirable tourists” (7). 20^th century cultural critic, Daniel Boorstin stubbornly insists upon dual identities of “travelling-people’ and offers his own definition as guide of deciphering the tourist from traveller. Boorstin studiously examines the historical connection between travel and travail, reminding us that to travel is to work, which suggests that to tour is something that lies in another categorization completely. Melton again clarifies this distinction helpfully:

Travellers seek and earn experience, while tourists sign up for a program and sit back to wait for experiences to come to them. For travellers there is work to be done; it will not be easy, but it promises rewards worth the discomfort. This image is powerful and attractive; it is also romantic – the lone enduring trials and tribulations because he or she has to, “because it’s there.” Many of us are up for the ideal, but few, really, are up to the actual physical and emotional challenge such a self-image requires in praxis. The tourist identity, in the end, can only suffer in contrast to such a romantic ideal. For tourists, there is little work to be done’ it will be easy, and it promises comfort. Although this image may attract our more hedonistic urges, it nonetheless suffers aesthetically in comparison to the romantic traveller (7).

With this highly romanticised yet, hard to define concept of the traveller (where no one seems to fit) and the easy, default identity of the tourist (which everyone seems to fit), both of these conceptions of ‘travelling-people’ now possess distinct ideologies, which, in turn, will alter both behaviour and the all critical travelling mindset of expectation.