The book is mostly written in a stream-of-consciousness style and contains several conversations between Belloc and an imagined reader (who is both combative and confused) interspersed throughout. Belloc also illustrates landmarks, noteworthy geographical features and explanatory maps to frame his journey and explain his decisions to the audience. Although the book is written primarily in English, several passages and pieces of dialogue are written in various languages, with language mix-ups and comments about the contemporary linguistic landscape featuring prominently. The book also contains songs for which Belloc provides sheet music and lyrics.
The Path to Rome was Belloc's most financially successful work and established him as a serious literary author. It is considered to be among the best in his literary canon and the quintessential example of his travel literature. Contemporary reviews were positive, focusing on Belloc's authenticity, shrewd observations, and sense of humour. Retrospectives have similarly praised the book, with much of the praise centered on Belloc's complex narrative structure and the focus on the minutiae of everyday life in the towns he visited. The book employs complex literary structures, including metaleptic narrative styles, embedded narratives, and defamiliarisation. Belloc himself had a warm affection for the book; he later recounted that it was "the only book [he] ever wrote for love".
Shortly before the book was written, Belloc was working on completing his biography of Maximilien Robespierre and expressed an anxiousness to finish it to begin working on The Path to Rome.[4][5] On New Year's Eve 1900, Belloc wrote to the American journalist Maria Lansdale that he was planning a pilgrimage from his old garrison in Toul to Rome the following Easter. He told her he planned to write "whatever occurs to me to write[...] décousu[a] and written anyhow of its essence".[6][7]
Belloc's mother tried desperately to convince him against going.[8][9] At the time, Belloc and his wife had three young children and were struggling financially, but his journalistic work at The Daily News had earned him as much as £14 (equivalent to £1,913in 2023) a week.[9] His mother felt that an extended absence from his job as a journalist at would hurt him professionally.[8][9] However, Belloc rejoined that the work was impermanent and a strong publishing record outside journalism would be more lucrative in the long run, as a successful book would increase the value of his journalistic work.[8][9] Still, Belloc did not have the money to complete the pilgrimage on his own and he reportedly had to beg his sister for the funds.[9] Finances became a regular worry for Belloc during his travels, as evidenced by letters home to his wife, though he was able to calm her worry by reminding her that he was owed £65 (equivalent to £8,913in 2023) for his Robespierre manuscript, seven guineas (equivalent to £1,000in 2023) from The Daily News, and another £12 10s (equivalent to £1,710in 2023) from his lectures at the University of London.[10]
At the beginning of June 1901, Belloc departed for Paris, bought clothes for his journey, and finished all but six pages of his biography of Robespierre on the evening of 5 June.[11][9] The following day, he departed for Toul and sent his wife a postcard.[11]
Summary
While visiting the town he was born in, Belloc goes the local Catholic church[fr]. He says his prayers and notices a statue of Saint Mary behind the altar "so extraordinary and so different from from all I had seen before, so much the spirit of my valley" that he vows to take a pilgrimage to Rome. He makes five vows to sanctify his journey: to travel entirely on foot, to sleep in the wild ("sleep rough"), to cover thirty miles (48km) per day, to attend a Mass every morning, and to reach Rome in time for the High Mass at Saint Peter's Basilica for the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul on 29 June. Belloc recounts that he broke each of his vows one by one except for the last.
France
I found myself entering that pleasant mood in which all books are conceived (but none written); I was "smoking the enchanted cigarettes" of Balzac, and if this kind of reverie is fatal to action, yet it is so much a factor of happiness that I wasted in the contemplation of that lovely and silent hollow many miles of marching. I suppose if a man were altogether his own master and controlled by no necessity, not even the necessity of expression, all his life would pass away in these sublime imaginings.
The Path to Rome,p. 23
Belloc begins his pilgrimage in Toul, which he chose as the starting point because he had "served in arms for [his] sins" in the French Army there as an artilleryman. Upon reaching the first town after Toul, Flavigny, he realises he has broken his first vow by missing Mass. His time in France is rife with admiration for the locals and overconfidence in his ability to cross a great distance. Between Thayon and Épinal, he overexerts himself, injuring his foot and both knees, and realises he will not be able to maintain his vow of thirty miles a day. When he arrives in Épinal, he is given a balm by the local apothecary which makes the pain almost magically dissipate, though it becomes less effective throughout the journey. Belloc arrives in Belfort and discovers for the first time open-fermented wine, which he lauds. After buying some for the road, he travels some distance only to have his bottle come loose from his sack and shatter on the ground. He becomes so frustrated he has to sit down. Shortly thereafter, Belloc enters Switzerland.
Switzerland
Belloc does not realise he has entered Switzerland until he asks a group of travelling merchants where he is; each affirm his arrival in different accents. He buys another bottle of wine he describes as "wonderful stuff" in Porrentruy and continues on. During his travels, he meets a French anarchist who has been on the run for some years and misses his homeland, but holds contempt for armies, governments, and property. Belloc debates with him about his ideology, but neither budge; Belloc buys the anarchist a beer and promises him "freedom, brotherhood, and an equal law" before departing.
After passing through mountainous terrain, Belloc is fatigued. A wagon stops to ask if he needs assistance to the next town over. Belloc is tempted to ride in the cart, but he holds to his vow and clings onto the wagon – rather than riding it – which helps him stay moving. They arrive in Undervelier and Belloc enjoys a cigar and admires a stream flowing nearby before being interrupted by the local church bell. The entire town floods into the church and Belloc follows the crowd inside, where he is moved to tears by the devotion of the town. He has a meal he describes as the worst, or second-worst, meal of his life then departs to Moutier.
As Belloc pushes deeper into Switzerland, his linguistic capacity increasingly diminishes; French slowly becomes German and his foot and knee pain remain bothersome. After travelling through mountainous terrain, he meets a German-speaking peasant who – through pantomime – asks Belloc to hold his horse while he goes into the inn for a drink. Belloc agrees, believing the peasant will honour a tradition of bringing a drink to the horse handler as a thanks. After forty-five minutes, the horse becomes restless and Belloc increasingly irritable. When he turns around to see if the peasant will relieve him, Belloc sees him and his cohort laughing in his direction and believes they are laughing at him. Enraged, Belloc slaps the horse and sends it careening through the town, and the townsmen in the inn rush out to try and catch the horse. Belloc is rebuked by an elderly townsman and continues on to Rome.
Belloc attempts to pass through the Nufenen Pass (above), but is convinced by his guide to detour through the Gries Pass instead.
Belloc travels through the mountains of Switzerland along the Aar. He encounters rain and bitter cold, his boots fall apart, and the pain in his extremities causes him to limp. He gets a guide to help him over the Nufenen Pass, a dangerous part of the Swiss Alps, and into Italy. Several problems become steadily apparent as they ascend: a substantial layer of snow is already on the ground, the rain that has been falling is beginning to turn into heavy snow, the temperature is dropping rapidly, the wind is picking up, and low-lying clouds are beginning to obscure their view. The guide attempts to persuade Belloc out of going, but Belloc insists on pushing forward; the guide agrees but they head towards the Gries Pass instead. Snow continues to fall heavily, and the cold and wind become increasingly unbearable. The guide, estimating they have about eight hundred feet (240m) to the summit, refuses to continue. Belloc offers all the money he has left on hand to continue, but the guide refuses; suddenly Belloc feels the bleak coldness around him and realises the guide had determined that the return to the village was safer than continuing the summit. On the descent, he laments that he has been conquered by the Alps.
As Belloc continues through the rest of southern Switzerland, he begins to recognise the features as more and more Italian. He realises near Faido that he only has eight francs and ten centimes (equivalent to £81.02 in 2021) to get him to Milan, about ninety miles (140km) away. He metes out an ambitious plan to make sure he has enough money to make it to Milan. In Bellinzona, he meets a woman whom he cannot understand, but he buys some wine from her, absentmindedly buying a glass for her husband and another townsman, not realising his mistake until after he has paid. He departs following a one-franc meal and notices that a fold in his map is obfuscating the path from Bellinzona to Lugano. He asks a local mapmaker if he can look at one of his maps for a moment, which the mapmaker allows, and Belloc takes off, grateful but confused. Eventually, he arrives at the border town of Chiasso and is questioned by border guards, who allow him into Italy where he marches on to Como.
Italy
In Como, Belloc estimates he is about twenty-five miles (40km) from Milan with only one franc and eighty centimes (equivalent to £17.65 in 2021) left. Although the heat is becoming oppressive, he estimates that he could probably reach the city in eight or nine hours. By then, however, it would be too late to retrieve his money and the lodging would be too expensive for what he has left, even if he does not eat. He enters the local cathedral to weigh his options and notices two votive candles fading out at nearly identical speeds. He resolves to allow the candles decide his fate: if the one of the left fades first, he will travel by foot, but if the one on the right fades first, by rail. Ultimately, the right candle fades out in spectacular fashion and, believing it a sign of divine mercy, Belloc resolves to break another vow and travel by train. At the station, the ticket costs him exactly one franc and eighty centimes, and he reflects on his journey and falls asleep, waking up in Milan.
Belloc continues through Italy, walking onward towards Piacenza as it begins to rain for a long time. Passing through several small villages, he ends up just outside the town of Medesano where he stops to eat and rest. In the inn, around twenty Italians are drinking and enjoying a raucous evening out. Belloc orders a glass of wine and the inn falls silent. One of the men asks him something in Italian, but Belloc cannot fully comprehend what he is asking; suddenly, several of the other men begin asking the same question. He intuits that they are saying that he is a Venetian or the Venetian and that either the Venetian people or a particular Venetian person, possibly a strikebreaker, had crossed the townspeople.
Eventually, one of the men gets very close to Belloc, hollering threateningly, and Belloc's fear turns to anger. Belloc begins shouting down the hostile man with what little Italian he can muster mixed in with Spanish and his native French. Immediately, the room becomes divided and the two groups begin arguing with one another. The innkeeper grabs Belloc and indicates that he is on his side before jumping on the bar and giving a speech to the patrons. Belloc has no idea what the innkeeper reports to the townsmen, but it brings the hostilities to an end, and Belloc and the men commune peacefully; a man holding a large knife threateningly earlier allows Belloc to sharpen his pencil on it. Belloc departs the following morning and crosses the Taro with the help of a few locals who put him in contact with someone whom Belloc relates to Saint Christopher, much to the man's approval.
It is our duty to pity all men. It is our duty to pity those who are in prison. It is our duty to pity those who are not in prison. How much more is it the duty of a Christian man to pity the rich who cannot ever get into prison? These indeed I do now specially pity, and extend to them my commiseration. What! Never even to have felt the grip of the policeman; to have watched his bold suspicious eye; to have tried to make a good show under examination . . . never to have hear the bolt grinding in the lock, and never to have looked round at the clearly simplicity of a cell? Then what emotions have you had, unimprisonable rich; or what do you know of active living and of adventure?
The Path to Rome,p. 339
Belloc makes his way to the town of Calestano. There, he is questioned by two policemen and two gendarmes, and fails to produce a passport. One of the policemen accuses Belloc of faking his difficulty with Italian causing Belloc to become irate; he threatens them with legal action and tells them that he can speak French and Latin, so if there is a priest in the town, they should bring him to translate. The policemen agree to bring the elderly sindaco – akin to a mayor – who speaks French, but confine Belloc in the barracks in the meantime. When the sindaco arrives, it becomes apparent that he does not actually speak French, but Belloc refuses to out him. The sindaco, however, recognises the word touriste and he instructs the officers to release Belloc. He is released to a celebrating crowd and carries on his way.
As he continues on through Italy, Belloc meets a Latin-speaking priest whom he asks to teach him Tuscan words so he can get around better. He races through the rest of Tuscany and to Rome. As he passes through the Gate of the Poplar of the Old Wall of the Vatican, he realises Mass is ending. He asks a local priest when the following Mass will be held; the priest tells him that he has but twenty minutes to wait, which pleases Belloc. Belloc tells the reader that he has no inclination to tell them anything about Rome itself, but ends with a poem about his journey.
Structure and style
The Path to Rome is replete with hand-drawn maps (top left), imagined discussions between the author and the reader (top right), musical notation (bottom left), and drawings of pertinent objects or scenes Belloc came across during his travels.
The Path to Rome is written in a stream-of-consciousness style; it has no chapters, overarching headings, or dates to orient its audience.[7] It is composed with dozens of illustrations, musical notation for songs, and verse poetry interspersed throughout.[7] Throughout the book, Belloc interacts with an imagined reader, Lector,[b] who is often combative, bored, and confused.[13][14] The American literary critic Maria Frassati Jakupcak has described it as having "the narrative pace [of] Belloc's wandering feet".[7] Belloc himself wrote of its style: "This Path to Rome is a jolly book to write. No research, no bother, no style, no anything. I just write straight ahead as fast as I can and stick in all that comes into my head."[15]
The Path to Rome is typically described as a travelogue, though others reject this appellation and prefer to describe its narrative style and focal tendencies as something of a "self-portrait"; that is, what Belloc chooses to discuss tells the audience more about himself than what he is describing.[16][14]A. N. Wilson, for example, writes that Belloc's ten-page description of Flavigny, a "comparatively obscure town", than to all of Tuscany typifies this self-portrait approach to the work.[14] The British-American writer Joseph Pearce has described the book thus:[17]
The Path to Rome is both a travelogue and a farrago, which is to say that it is, at one and the same time, a linear narrative connected to a journey and a seemingly random dispersal of anecdotal thoughts and musings. It is animated, therefore, by the tension between the forward momentum maintained by the author's account of his pilgrimage and the inertial force of the tangential interruptions and digressions.
Frassati Jakupcak describes the literary genre and style as a carnivalesque containing avant-garde and modernist narratives, though elements of the later postmodern movement are also present.[7] Describing the book as "self-consciously Rabelaisian", she relates Belloc's role as the narrator to "the quintessential carnival fool".[18] According to Mikhail Bakhtin's analysis of carnivalesque literature, The Path to Rome matches all of the genre-defining elements: verbal abuse, "comic verbal compositions", and the inversion of the traditional separation between the audience and the author.[19]
The embedded narrative between Belloc and the Lector character forms a complex and metaleptic narrative, placing Belloc in a disruptive position between the reader and the work itself by centering the artificiality of the book's narrative.[20] Frassati Jakupcak has described Belloc's use of the Lector narrative as a form of defamiliarisation and relates the character to the English yachtsman at the beginning of G. K. Chesterton's spiritual autobiography Orthodoxy.[21]
Reception and influence
The Path to Rome was by far Belloc's most financially successful publication and helped to establish him as a serious writer.[22] Published by George Allen in April 1902, the book sold around 112,000 copies and met with extremely positive critical reception.[23][15]William Le Queux gave the book resounding praise in his review for The Literary World.[23]G. K. Chesterton, a then-new acquaintance of Belloc's,[c] similarly approved of the book. Chesterton's review in The World lauded the book's authenticity and joyfulness. He wrote:
The Path to Rome is written recklessly. The typical modern book of nonsense is written so as to appear reckless. The Path to Rome is the product of the actual and genuine buoyancy and thoughtlessness of a rich intellect; whereas the young decadent takes more trouble over his nursery rhymes than even over his sonnets. [...] He will be a lucky man who can escape out of that world of freezing folly into the flaming and reverberating folly of The Path to Rome.[23][25]
The Athenaeum gave a positive review, calling Belloc "of the school of to which Sterne, Heine, [and] Cobbett, each in his different fashion, belong" and complimenting his ability "to see with the eyes of two races".[23][26] The review is favourable to Belloc's sense of humour and witty anticipation of criticism, though it comments that the book exposes him as an inexperienced – albeit sympathetic – traveller. Although the book is considered rather digressive by the reviewer, the piece compliments Belloc's strong writing, shrewd observational skills, and originality.[26]
A 1922 review in The American Catholic Quarterly Review praised both Belloc's The Path to Rome and Europe and the Faith[es] as noticing "not only our [Catholic] spiritual kinship with the Roman Empire, but our material heritage as well".[27] It singles out The Path to Rome for its focus on the minutiae of contemporary life such as in its descriptions of local cuisine, architecture, and civil engineering, calling the book "the testament of a citizen of the world who finds himself at home in any place from Algeria to California".[27]
The British journalist and travel writer Stephen Graham began walking and writing in 1910 after being recommended The Path to Rome by a fellow journalist.[28] In one of his memoirs, Gerald Cumberland recounts that The Path to Rome had a particularly strong influence on him, causing him to spend a significant time imitating Belloc including walking from Ilfracombe to Exeter to Land's End.[29] Cumberland carried a first-edition copy of the book with him regularly and he was so taken with it that he wrote to Belloc to express his admiration.[30] Belloc responded a few days later that the letter "had given him more pleasure than any of the enthusiastic reviews in the papers".[31] Cumberland glued the letter into the book, though he lost it after a friend who had borrowed it died with it still in his possession.[31]
The Path to Rome remains one of Belloc's most highly-regarded works and his most popular work of prose.[32] It has been viewed as a quintessential example of the Bellocian travelogue: coarsely humorous, enamoured with the beauty of the physical world, and spiritually informed.[24]Patrick Braybrooke describes it as one example which reflects Belloc's versatility in writing.[33] He argues that "it might easily [have been] but a notebook of thoughts", but Belloc transforms it into a sober reflection on the struggle of pilgrimage and brings the reader into the joy and terror that he experienced during his journey, making it "undoubtedly one of Belloc's most popular and fascinating books".[34] Retrospectives of the work have compared it favourably to the work of Laurence Sterne, particularly his The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, and those of François Rabelais.[14][35] Others still have compared it to the works of Robert Burton, Samuel Butler, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Izaak Walton.[35]
Belloc viewed the book as his best work.[35] Although he was a prolific writer, he later recounted: "I hate writing. I wouldn't have written a word if I could have helped it. I only wrote for money. The Path to Rome is the only book I ever wrote for love."[36] Writing to the American artist Carl Schmitt in 1930, Belloc described his novel Belinda as "certainly the book of mine which I like best since I wrote The Path to Rome".[37] Two years after publication, Belloc wrote in his own copy of the book: "I wrote this book for the glory of God".[35] On the Feast of the Epiphany four years later, Belloc had written a short poem in his own copy of the book:
Alas! I never shall so write again! Envoi Prince, bow yourself to God and bow to Time, Which is God's servant for the use of men, To bend them to his purpose sublime, Alas! I never shall so write again.[35]
See also
The Four Men: A Farrago – A 1911 novel by Hilaire Belloc describing four men travelling by foot across Sussex.
↑ Although Chesterton and Belloc were later close friends and frequent collaborators, they had only recently met when Chesterton's review was published.[24]
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