Much of A Bride's Story serves as educational documentary, explaining carefully the importance of these facets of the peoples the story concerns-and it's a mark of Mori's talents that these lessons are never dull. This is a land of yurts, shepherds, big families, khanates, delicate carvings, intricate weavings, and ornate embroideries. The culture she describes is rich in a heritage and practice that will be largely unfamiliar to the average American reader. Mori has so far focused her attention specifically in what is probably northern Kazakhstan, near the expanding Russian border. In A Bride's Story Mori deposits the reader leagues away from the British romance of manners she crafted in Emma, instead exploring rural and nomadic life along the Western track of the Silk Road during the Great Game era. If it helps, she proves an able and inexhaustible docent. So when I say I'm happy to have Kaoru Mori serve as my guide into the history, locales, and culture of the 19th century Caspian region, I hope you'll understand and indulge my weakness. I spend so much of my day-to-day life worrying about what to do and when and how-kind of the last thing I want my excursions to be marked by is that kind of struggle. Sleeping on floors no longer sounds remotely fun. My back's not so good at supporting a full backpack for hours and hours. As I've grown older, I've come to appreciate convenience a bit more. Still, for all that, I'm still a fan of the idea of adventure. In Berlin, I got very lost, huddled cold on the floor of a train station, walked in on a crowd of soccer hooligans knee-deep in some rivalry-driven fight, and was generally just scared and tired. In Budapest, I visited a zoological gardens, spent a day at the national art museum, visited a bathhouse, went dancing with strangers, almost got stabbed in a hostel, and pooped my pants while taking a lady to dinner. My experiences in these stops were far more varied and exciting some left warmly cherished memories while others left impressions I'd as soon forget. In my same European excursion, I came to several cities (Budapest, Vienna, Berlin, and Amsterdam) where I had no contact to contact, no guide to call upon. Not all adventure-as one can still seek adventure in the partially-known-but a substantial amount of it. And ready access to someone who could ease the cultural tensions between myself and those who didn't grow up in my precise formative circumstances was invaluable. When things went awry-as they inevitably would-having a native's sturdy hand to navigate the unknown kept me from a great deal of unpleasantness in my journeys. When I was wandering around Europe in the mid-Aughts, the cities in which I had friends waiting were comfortable stays. Especially when visiting unfamiliar lands, having someone to help facilitate one's journey into the unknown can be a blessing.
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