A Fact-Checked Review of 'Do Travel Writers Go to Hell?'

I received a review copy of Thomas Kohnstamm's Do Travel Writers Go to Hell? last week. You may recall that Kohnstamm's wild & woolly memoir concerns his questionable practices and enjoyably self-abusive lifestyle as a Lonely Planet guidebook writer. I fully intended to join the fray of the indignant travel-industrial complex, though of course my review would have been particularly witty, incisive, cutting, and revelatory. More importantly, I'd focus on the book itself, not on the lathered-up controversy regarding Kohnstamm's fictionalizing or plagiarizing his travel guide facts. Unfortunately, I lost my review copy on the train, so instead I'm just going to make it all up.

The book opens with a clown bursting through the terrace doors of the British embassy in Berlin. Before he can say a word to the startled diplomats inside, the clown collapses to the floor -- dead of a knife to the back -- and releases what appears to be a Fabergé egg from his funny-gloved hand. The section chief radios the home office in London, but West Berlin explodes before he can make a report. Then there's a car chase and a sex scene, or vice versa.

Kohnstamm, so far uninvolved in and unaffected by the events preceding, takes a job with Lonely Planet as a guidebook writer. He will be paid handsomely for personally rewarding work in a genre recognized for its dedication, thoroughness, attention to detail, and professional excellence. Colleagues congratulate him, family members call with warm regards, and envious friends admit he's finally made it after all.

After that, the book strains credulity by suggesting Kohnstamm has insufficient resources to cover an entire nation's worth of touristic resources in a month, and he is forced (FORCED!) to take drugs, have sex, deal drugs, and "cut corners" on his research work. Intrigued, I walked down to my neighborhood coffee shop, and who should I find but Kohnstamm himself, seated in front right by the window and relishing a hot beverage just like a normal person rather than the Devil incarnate. I shoved aside some punter seated opposite and began interrogating the miscreant.

You've caused quite a controversy. Are you surprised?
I didn't expect this kind of huge controversy or backlash. As for Lonely Planet's reaction, I think when they actually sit down and read the book, they'll realize it's not such a hatchet job, and my points are more nuanced. And I say in the introduction to the book that I'm still a fan of Lonely Planet guidebooks and still use the guidebooks.

And you're being accused of plagiarism.
Yeah. Here's what happened. In the book, I wrote "...even if I don't get all of the mundane opening hours and hotel prices right. When it comes to those details, what I can't plagiarize, I can always make up." It was meant to be humorous. Somebody promoting the book wrote a press release and pulled that out. It's on the back of the Australian edition of my book, too. Lonely Planet saw it and wrote this big missive to the whole company.

Have you ever plagiarized?
No, what I have done is, places I was unable to visit to update information on, I did updates over the internet and tried to corroborate information with local contacts, people in the know. I always got multiple sources together.

I actually plagiarized this interview. What do you think of that, smart guy?
I can't really say, since you've deviated from the interview text you lifted, and are now making up my responses as well.

... He pretty much goes on like that. About ten years ago, I met a Lonely Planet writer who was covering Belize and Guatemala. We were on the coast of Belize, and he was one of the most intensely sunburned people I've ever seen (he was English). He seemed amiable enough though, and quite relaxed, and quite open about the fact that he had no intention of visiting most of the places he was supposedly covering. Sadly, that's a reputation LP has had trouble shaking for many years.

Now that's not strictly a relevant anecdote, but I wanted to insert a personal reminiscence to go with all the other reviewers and commentators and guidebook writers and editors who have weighed in, like here and here and here and here and here.

I have also written and edited lots of guidebooks, and I know many people in the business. In my experience, the relative incidence of douchebags, divas, idiots, and crooks in travel writing is about the same as in the general population of journalists. If anything, Kohnstamm's chief crime (or that of his publicity pals at Random House) is overselling the professionally salacious nature of the book, when in fact he's not nearly the rogue depicted by early buzz.

The dirty little secrets of travel guides bandied about by Kohnstamm and his reviewers -- low pay, questionable ethics, shaky facts -- are neither dirty nor secrets to anyone who's worked in travel or even read many travel guides. These scandals have been dug up and kicked around so often in the media, it's amazing anyone's still surprised or enraged. As to the book itself, I'm reliably informed it's worth reading, if only so you can bash it with authority. But even that's not strictly necessary -- a fact I did not personally establish but have confirmed with multiple sources.