Trans-Siberian

The title of Bart Schaneman’s Trans-Siberian tells you about what to expect: it’s the story of Schaneman making his way through China and Mongolia and through Russia, occasionally ruminating on his own family’s history. (It was [also] recently released electronically via Thought Catalog.) As it opens, Schaneman is still reeling from the death of a friend, and guilt blends with his feelings of displacement as he makes his way across thousands of miles. The biography of him found in this edition of Trans-Siberian mentions a companion work, titled Where Furnaces Burn, and for all that this particular narrative feels complete, it also seems to be part of a larger story. (Looking at Schaneman’s website, it seems that the title has changed — it’ll now be Take the Ride.) His evocations of traveling — particularly by rail — are memorable: from halting encounters on trains to mistaken presumptions about the ethics of hostelkeepers. Thankfully, he doesn’t exempt himself from criticism, making for a more transparent account. And his writing about Russians driving fast could well work as an essay of its own.

Trans-Siberian is a travelogue in mini-zine form making it the perfect size for globe trotting. It’s literally a pocket book of stories and observations about Bart’s travels from Korea to Russia via China and Mongolia.

The story begins with Bart having just finished a job in Korea. He flies to Shanghai, moves onto Mongolia and finally reaches his destination in St. Petersburg, Russia, home of his great grandfather, a Russian of German origin. In and along this route, and in no particular order, Bart interacts with fellow travellers on trains and in bars and hostels. He eats local cuisine. He is warned to be wary of the Mongols. He goes on an intercity car race with Russian teenagers. He drinks the local booze, takes in the scenery and is often times alone, under the stars with his thoughts.

Bart’s writing is well-paced and moves quickly with him as he glides through the cities and countrysides of Asia. His journalistic chops are in tact even as he keeps his writing on a very personal level which makes it interesting reading without being melodramatic—Chris Auman

This is an extremely well done travel journal that reads nearly like a novel for its seamlessness and fluidity. Schaneman can write, for sure. Trans-Siberian is apparently a companion-piece to a larger work, but for the most part it stands alone, covering a few weeks of Schaneman’s after he gets done teaching in South Korea. What follows are brief jaunts throughout China, Mongolia, and Russia, where he befriends other travelers as well as locals. He spends a lot of time writing about the food and about the nights spent drinking with his companions. It’s all incredibly well done and, like I said, reads more like an novel than anything else. The scattered dialogue is excellent and believable. There are a few infrequent moments of self-reflection, but not a whole lot regarding his own (aaaah, not that word!) privilege, as apparent as it may be to a reader.

It was an odd dichotomy: he defends the U.S. (or at least insults Europeans who would be so clichéd as to rip on the United States) and even at the end of the book, when a Russian woman who grew up in Soviet times kind of calls him out on his ability to travel and afford to eat well and all that, there’s no real internal reflection going on there. It’s too bad, because Schaneman is such a goddamn good writer, I’d love to hear his take on the idea of if he even thinks Americans traveling abroad is a luxury at all.

This one comes recommended on the strength of the writing. Whether he’s talking about the people he meets in a Trans-Siberian railcar or taking the backseat in a Russian street race, his writing is confident and captivating. Personally, I just wanted a bit more internal dialogue. I’ll be looking for work from Bart Schaneman in the future. –Keith Rosson