Jungleland - Christopher S. Stewart

"I began to daydream about the jungle...."  That is the beginning of a wonderful adventure story that is a great short read – those of you who read my blog regularly know that I think the ideal book is 250 – 350 pages – beyond that the author has lost track of the story they want to tell or they are just impressing themselves.  There are exceptions, of course, but a good story , like this one, doesn’t just invite you in, it pulls you in and makes you want to stay connected right up to the last page.

The story is based on an earlier explorer and adventurer Theodore Morde who on April 6, 1940struggled to fall asleep at the Paris Hotel in La Ceiba, Honduras with his adventure into the jungle preying on his mind. The book takes the author to the same hotel almost 70 years later. Christopher S. Stewart was pulled in to the story of the white city, the discovery that brought Morde fame and notoriety.  It was a lost civilization with monkey gods and towering temples and walls, even gold and it sparked the American imagination.  But Morde was caught in other circumstances –WWWII was beginning, Hitler was threatening the world and the secret service (pre-CIA) was recruiting people to spy.  Who better than a man who could find his way through the jungle, deal with pirates and still wild tribes?  Morde went out, got caught in a plot to assassinate Hitler and had other adventures that would have provided him with the stimulation that he needed.  He returned, married, had children and committed suicide at 43 – the call to adventure could not be reconciled with his new domestic life.

The author fighting his own internal battle left his daughter (who would turn four during his expedition) and wife to find the White City in the jungle.  A writer who has traveled extensively and often has been in harm’s way, this was as much a need to satisfy his wanderlust as a desire to make discovery. 

The adventure involves pirates, natives, snakes and bullet ants, graveyards, rapids, mud and rain.  It is not glamorous and the author shares his own frailty and misgivings along the route.  His is lucky to have competent companions who not only aid the trip, but deal well with his occasional boughts of frustration and depression.

Yes he discoveries some magnificent possible white cities, but are they the same one that Morde found?  Does it matter?  Does the author discover some personal truths that are most important?  Guess you will have to read to find out.