Chatwin’s formal and thematic concerns intertwine in this volume, and each is a rich subject for analysis. In Patagonia is highly episodic and deliberately fragmentary in form. This mode allows Chatwin to piece together knowledge from observation and traces of fact, as any traveler does; thus, form meshes with travel-book content. It also allows him to pick and choose from among an expanse of colorful characters and landscapes. As narrator, he remains a sort of effaced picaro. The first-person speaker is revealed primarily by his reaction, shown through selection of detail and quotation, to people; rare judgmental remarks; the reactions of others to him—as gringo, as Britisher, and as asker of strange questions; and his own curiosity and evident willingness to keep any company, in any setting. His focus on individuals and his episodic format result in a string of cameos, as he displays the eccentric inhabitants of the eccentric region that is Patagonia.

This method leads to several pleasures the reader may be more accustomed to find in fiction. The ninety-seven chapters, some quite brief, establish a network of cross connections. The repetition of motif, idea, and character gives readers a sense of discovery; they too are surprised when they stumble across traces of Milward or are intrigued by the multiplying versions of Cassidy’s final years. Almost magically, both these elements eventually intersect. Pattern provides interest and order, lending shapeliness to an episodic work. The narrator also participates in the creation of stories as he reports gossip, history, and legend; summarizes or presents the tales of Milward; and even chooses among various versions of elusive “truth” in order to present what he perceives as the most likely version of events. A good example of this control over reality is Chatwin’s dig into lore and memories surrounding the Wild Bunch; he clearly leans toward stories of Cassidy’s safe return to the United States and, briefly, to his family home in Circleville.

The language in the book is as interesting as its concerns. The author’s examination of simple things is fresh, as when he observes a schoolgirl’s “shadow crinkling beside her along the corrugated housefronts.” Often he is master of enigmas that are wrapped in simple language and lush images: “The pink man handed the uncle a disc that shimmered like the moon and the canoe spread a white wing and flew down the channel towards the source of pearl buttons.” A description such as “four peaks piled one on the other...

(The entire section is 1043 words.)