An Idiot Abroad By Karl Pilkington

I’ll be honest; I didn’t know much about Karl Pilkington when I picked up “An Idiot Abroad” (to be fair, I still don’t, 400 pages later). I knew that he was friends with Ricky Gervais and that tall guy that is also friends with Ricky Gervais (Stephen Merchant, I googled it). But I’m not super in touch with British humor, which might be part of the reason why this book did not land for me.

I knew there was some TV series where Ricky and Stephen Merchant kind of… make fun of him a little bit? Ask him questions? I don’t really know. Not my humor, so I’m not entirely sure why reading this book seemed like a good idea. I think it’s because I’m a sucker for a travel memoir, and my travel memoir pursuit is ceaseless and unending. I thought, “maybe it’ll be really good? Or at least, funny?”

It was neither.

“An Idiot Abroad” is a weak premise, poorly executed

I guess I don’t really get the whole joke, besides him being slack-jawed and a bit bumbling? But he wasn’t even really that bumbling. He just seemed like he wasn’t having a great time. Because he doesn’t enjoy traveling, which is really not the big deal that it’s made out to be.

I guess his friends thought it would be funny to put Karl in uncomfortable situations. And there’s to your humor. “A guy not really having a great time in exotic places.”

Sadly, I think I read An Idiot Abroad (Amazon Affiliate link) on the heels of some other terrible travel memoirs, so maybe I wasn’t in the best mood to be let down again. I don’t know what it is about travel memoirs that are so bloody terrible, all the time. I keep thinking it comes back to the idea that being in interesting places and doing interesting things does not make you an interesting person.

I don’t know why they keep giving book deals to people who purposely go out of their way, spend tons of money, and go through the discomfort of going to a new place, only to hate it, complain, or otherwise chronicle some tame non-adventures in the most low-key and vapid way possible.

A book about a show about a book about a show

So what really kept taking me out of this no more with the fact that it was a behind-the-scenes diary of Karl Pilkington doing this “guy who doesn’t really like to travel, travels a little” bit, I guess, as part of a show? But instead of having them be two distinct things, Karl frequently mentions producers, cameramen, and other crew members as part of his diary, which is sort of like a very poorly edited reality TV show where you keep saying the boom mics and stuff. Hey very much takes you out of the adventure (if you can call it that).

I understand wanting to maximize content and deliver it in dynamic ways. A show, a book, a musical comedy album, a podcast, a graphic novel. Sure. But let them stand alone. I have not and will not ever watch the show this is based on, but it’s pretty alienating to read a book about a show that you’ll never watch and keep being reminded of it.

Karl Pilkington isn’t having a good time. Nobody is having a good time.

There are a lot of little insights into humanity throughout this book, and I honestly kept expecting it to get better. Karl made some pretty novel connections with locals, and he started to express some genuine humanity, but then it was underscored by more complaining.

One of my major gripes about travel memoirs is the protagonist’s inability or lack of desire to actually engage with the new culture. But, because of the engineered, scripted element of the TV show, Carl was routinely placed in the path of locals, to varying degrees of success.

But it was painfully clear the entire time that he was not enjoying himself. He routinely has conversations with his friends back home where he reveals that he’s not enjoying this, doesn’t wanna be there, and doesn’t like it. Maybe that’s part of the joke as well, the fact that he is being sent worldwide, and he absolutely hates it. But it wasn’t funny. It was just sad and pointless.

The lesson of “An Idiot Abroad” (if there was one)

I think there’s a powerful sense of cultural fetishization around the concept of travel. As if it makes you more attractive, more worldly, more well-rounded, more intelligent. But I don’t particularly think that’s true. I think you can be boring in a beautiful place that you’ve never been to, or you can be endlessly fascinating, never having left 10 mi.² of your home.

I think “being interesting” is a state of mind. And pushing people who don’t want to travel past their comfort zone isn’t doing them a favor. It’s just forcing them to perform to seem like something they’re not. But why do they have to be something they’re not?

Why can’t they be low-key homebodies? It’s sort of like that push to get introverts to be more extroverted. There’s nothing wrong with introverts. Some people don’t like tons of socialization. Same with travel.

I say all that to say, not everybody needs to travel. Not every travel needs to be a book. An Idiot Abroad is clearly a cash grab, nobody wanted to be there, and it’s served its purpose, I guess, to accompany a show that I won’t watch.
Check out An Idiot Abroad on Amazon (affiliate link) and Goodreads.

★★