The gonzo who stole Christmas

>> Paul William Roberts' fear and loathing in Iraq

by JULIET WATERS

If by some miracle you've got all your Christmas shopping done by 4:30 p.m Christmas Eve, and you're cyberfunctional, it should be worth a journey to www.mungopark.com to hear live commentary on midnight mass at Manger Square in Bethlehem by Paul William Roberts.

But if you're not one of the cyberwise and are looking for a last minute Christmas present that will give the gift of wit, intelligence and experience, any of Roberts' three books will do. And while his most recent book, The Demonic Comedy, may not seem very Christmasey, it may turn out to be the most re-levant and spiritual choice depending on how things turn out in the Middle East in 1998.

Tomorrow, with his broadcast, Roberts winds up a reconstruction of The Journey of the Magi (the three wise men who brought gifts to baby Jesus) from Iran to Bethlehem. Roberts has made this trip before and written about it in the aptly named Journey of the Magi (his first book Empire of the Soul is a travel book about India.) But this time around he's been commissioned by Bill Gates to send dispatches to Mungopark, (Empire of the Microsoft's travel site).

Given the timing of the release of The Demonic Comedy, the Middle East may be the best place for him. The book describes Roberts' three trips to Iraq before, during and after the Gulf War. Because it was released a week before the recent Gulf standoff, Roberts became the obvious choice for Canadian pundit of the week. But as he writes in a dispatch from Toronto, just as he was setting out on his current journey, "having said unkind things about Clinton, and cast vile aspersions on the rectitude of the foreign policies of Canada, the United States and Britain.... I might be more welcome in Iran than I am here."

Roberts also claims he's been the victim of a current rash of Canadian hatred towards travel writers. But he may be exaggerating his unpopularity somewhat. In fact, the Globe & Mail review of The Demonic Comedy was virtually glowing, even if it did cast a skeptical eye on the verity of some of Roberts' anecdotes. Still, regardless of his popularity, reliability and whatever the current feeling is towards travel writers, I challenge anyone to find a more entertaining, interesting and in many ways relevant book of non-fiction published this year.

It may be difficult to imagine an "entertaining" book about Iraq--especially when Roberts does nothing to disguise what a truly horrifying place it is, has been, and is likely to become. And especially when Roberts is one of the few journalists to have infiltrated the Iraqi border during the Gulf War and to have witnessed the true extent of the civilian casualties (just before he was arrested; he later escaped to Turkey).

What makes the book so compulsively readable is Roberts' cruise missile sense of humour, and what gives him the license to use that sense of humour in describing one of the darkest places on earth is a soul that often transcends his tendencies towards gonzo journalism.

Imagine the kind of journalist who mistakenly takes a tab of Ecstasy instead of an aspirin for his hangover, half an hour before heading into an interview with Saddam Hussein. Or who, during the war, can scam the presidential suite at the Iran Sheraton for $15 U.S. a night (normal rate per night $1200 ) by promising to lure CNN journalists over from the Intercontinental (and doing it). And who responds to a Iranian's question: "Are you Russian Intelligence?" with a killer line like, "No, Canadian Apathy. Sorry."

And yet when Roberts comes across a bombed Iraqi elementary school (hours after he's tried to help a child whose leg has been blown off) he writes with restraint: "A little exercise book lay stained by fire and rain, with the universal language of children's art and words etched in rudimentary English that were just too apt and too heartbreaking to be ever repeated." That he has the discipline to not exploit irony in a moment of horror may say more about his integrity as a journalist than any fact checking.

The extremes of humour and tragedy in The Demonic Comedy sometimes create a weirdness akin to Hunter S. Thompson starring in The Killing Fields. Still, backed up by his first-hand knowledge of the war and the insight he's developed through three journeys to Iraq, Roberts emerges as a genuine Canadian hero of journalism, and perhaps one of the few truly wise men on the beat.

The Demonic Comedy by Paul William Roberts, Stoddart, hc, 294 pp. $29.99


| TOC | THE FRONT | ARTSWEEK | ENTERTAINMENT LISTINGS | SEARCH | LETTERS | BACK |


This document was created Monday, December 22, 1997. ©Mirror 1997