Taking a leisurely walk

Here is an odd development: I have decided to carry a book. For at least the coming season, when, with hope, we head out once again for afternoon or evening walks, I want this book with me. I plan to open it, often, every day.

“Sauntering: Writers Walk Europe,” edited by Duncan Minshull, is a work of impressive scope. Sixty authors write about their walks through 22 European countries, from Petrarch climbing Mount Ventoux in 1350, to Kate Humble on her own French stroll in 2018, and Minshull has culled their work into excerpts ranging from one page to six.

Yes, the internet has 100 lists of the 100 best walking books. Think Cheryl Strayed’s “Wild.” But walking is the method of these books, not the subject. The genius of “Sauntering” is that it celebrates the act itself, the joy as well as pain of walking. There are narratives of sunny valleys as well as frightening wartime trenches. The book has nothing to do with exercise and everything to do with a way of seeing.

In his introduction, Minshull writes: “Words come easily en route. Physical movement frees the mind, stirs up thoughts and this leads to a brilliant insight or two. … A theatre of walking types is what struck me as I sorted these extracts, with Europe acting as the mis-en-scene. Ex-pat authors, pilgrims and paraders have passed so far. Who else shall show?”

The book begins with examples of people setting out, but does not follow an arc of either time or place. Many of the names are familiar, even if not for their perambulations. Franz Kafka, Edith Wharton, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Werner Herzog, Ludwig Van Beethoven, Katherine Mansfield, Rebecca Solnit, Thomas Jefferson and more.

Henriette d’Angeville climbs Mont Blanc. Richard Wright travels through Spain and writes about the religious parades. Edmondo de Amicis writes about women walking in Istanbul. In 1915, Edith Wharton commissions Joseph Conrad to walk around Cracow. “Sauntering” is not very big and does not take up much room in my bag.