Backpack by Emily Barr

This book was presented to me as cross between Bridget Jones' Diary, Absolutely Fabulous and The Beach. The idea of a twenty-something Bridget Jones chucking everything to go backpacking across Asia stirred my enthusiasm. As a twenty-something desperado, I also fucked off to southeast Asia in search of fortune, so that had a lot do with it too. For many reasons, I was looking forward to reading Backpackin a big way.

And a very fun read it is indeed. Tansy Harris is a Londoner, young enough and earning decent enough money to thoroughly abuse herself with late nights and party substances of all sorts. Barr does a wonderful job of making Tansy humorous, vital and charmingly stiff-upper-lip, while slipping in the sordid truth of her childhood and her addiction to drugs and alcohol - very stylishly done.

"Some part of me was waking up and was displeased with what I was observing. Some little unaddled part was looking on cooly and wondering how it had come to this. Wondering who this pissed girl was, drinking herself into oblivion, refusing to accept responsibility for her actions, and heading, as though on purpose, straight, and with admirable single-mindedness, down a path to destruction thoughtfully cleared for her by her mother. That part of me knew there was only one option."

The next part of Tansy's big adventure is also excellent. I loved her first days of culture-shock in Vietnam. I completely related to the loneliness; and how her ignorance, and her own dawning awareness of her ignorance, contribute in equal parts to her discomfort. Another thing worth mentioning is Barr's good use of email correspondence between Tansy and her mates. Am I alone in loving my sweet personality as it exists within my emails? The contrast between Tansy on her day-to-day travels and the warm, positive, supportive Tansy online is too true and bravo to Barr for noticing these things. I have no idea what this writer will do for an encore but I'm definitely keeping my eyes peeled for future work.

I have one complaint though: What's with the murder mystery angle? Lose it, lose it, unnecessary. The author's material is so good, she could finish with something of real depth, but instead fritters around with it, almost as if afraid of writing herself into an emotional swamp from which she won't be able to emerge. But I believe you can do it, Emily Barr, please try! Tansy's personal demons are spectacular enough, in fact they are far more spectacular than... well, I won't give it away.

This murder angle bugged me a bit when I read Leslie Forbes' Fish Blood & Bone too. Then I started her first novel Bombay Ice and quit - gave it away - because it was way too much the focus. Maybe I've read too many of my mother's Agatha Christies, PD Jameses and Martha Grimeses, but I think both these writers' considerable gifts lie well away from the whodunnit format. --RBR

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