Gideon Lewis Kraus, the author himself, is a lost soul searching for his place in this confusing and erratic world. At least that is the general impression I got from reading this book. His diction and choice of words are remarkable, I have to say, and it accentuates his talent for language and writing prose.

the liver king sentences are intellectually phrased with a heavy tint of philosophical thought in them. Many harbor on existentialism-related issues like wondering what is the point and purpose of his current endeavor. This book is based on pilgrimages and includes the author's own experiences of the Camino and the 88 temples of Shikoku. These are religious undertakings that demand followers to put themselves through an arduous journey on foot, like the Camino where followers spent a grueling month travelling across Spain on foot.

I feel I have been introduced to the fact that there are so many lost souls looking for their own purpose in this world, just like us. Like the author, they seek spiritual enlightenment and redemption. They hold on to the belief that they will go back cleansed in body and mind and refined in soul; a new and fresh start, a second opportunity to start anew in life awaits them. It is a stark reminder that we are not alone in our continual existential angst and restlessness. Our days are occupied yet we feel a deep hollowness. Embarking on an ambitious pilgrimage mission sounds like a sure way to calm oneself down and reevaluate our priorities and goals in life.

The author does a comparison of the Camino and the 88 temples of Shikoku, and we find that he leans towards preferring the experience of the Camino. Is it the lack of companionship in Japan that took the joy out and caused him to feel this way? After all he did mention that no matter how he disliked every torturous minute in the searing cold or how much he loathed himself for going on this trip alone, he would regret had he not done it. Oh, the ironies of things we do. They only show how integral a sense of accomplishment is to the innately egoistic human mind in all of us.

He goes on to evaluate some of his familial relationships. He has a homosexual rabbi father and younger brother Micah, who he loves endearingly but somehow finds it in him to be mean to them, allowing his temper to snap uncontrollably without the polite and conscious restraint one would apply when with strangers. We are thrown into the easy, casual banter of kinship. They quarrel about the most trivial of things, but I tend to think of that as more of a good thing. How many families care about every little detail of one another's lives? Personally, I would rather a family be too close for comfort than too distant for warmth.

The book offers a primary glance into the pilgrimage experience by narrating the author's own witness accounts and his interaction with those around him. Occasionally we come to points during the pilgrimage that we are able to see why some friends start to drift apart and ignore one another. The author's clique, fortunately, stays together. It may sound a bit of a put off and all, but I have to admit that this refreshing experience sounds tempting.