Comments by other authors...

"The Bone Man of Benares is the kind of sweeping, atmospheric epic they just don't make any more. Terry Tarnoff renders this engaging young-man-on-the-road saga with the heightened elan of a bangi-abusing Paul Theroux or hippied-out E. M. Forster. In the grand tradition, The Bone Man of Benares stands out as the best kind of contempo literary globe-trotting. It does what a great novel should do -- leave you feeling like you've been there."

-- Jerry Stahl, author of Permanent Midnight

"Terry Tarnoff is a writer whose every word, like a great blues master's instrumental solos, pulls you into his world. The Bone Man of Benares is the extraordinary real life saga of a modern day harmonica-playing Don Quixote, telling us his story with irresistible gusto and elan. Tarnoff makes you feel at home as you ride by his side on his global tour, sharing one incredible adventure after another. The trials and tribulations of romance and self-discovery, all set in exotic locales, make this adventure tale alternately engrossing, touching and hilarious. From the very first page until the last, it is nearly impossible to put the book down, and even more enjoyable to read the second time."

-- David Amram, author of OffBeat: Collaborating With Kerouac

"Terry Tarnoff's book, The Bone Man of Benares, calls to the reader like a train-whistle moaning in the distance. Written with rhythm and blues, it's the picaresque tale of a '60s expatriate looking for adventure all over the globe. But underneath the exotica is something even more compelling, the voice of a bona fide soul singer, a latter-day pilgrim, seeking the spiritual meaning of the road. Read this book for the literary rock and roll ride of your life."

-- Phil Cousineau, author of The Art of Pilgrimage

"For those who lived through the several-years-long Summer of Love, Terry Tarnoff's The Bone Man of Benares will provide satisfying doses of wincing nostalgia. For those who didn't, here is an entertaining manual of what they missed."

-- Herbert Gold, author of Bohemia: Digging the Roots of Cool

"I laughed (rollicked) my way through The Bone Man of Benares. Terry Tarnoff is one of the funniest writers I've ever read, maybe because so much serious depth underlies the humor. Lots of people made those road trips in the 60's; few got any lasting insights out of them. Tarnoff clearly has."

-- Gerald Nicosia, author of Memory Babe: A Critical Biography of Jack Kerouac

Inspiration for a sad lad..., May 11, 2005

I spent a while reading this book and I have to say that I felt so many different emotions that I found it hard to put the book down. True love, the ripped heart, the soulmate, the music, the scares, the feeling of being part of something special... It's a book that you should pick up as soon as possible and hopefully a moment of your life will be filled with a rollercoaster of emotions!!

Reviewer: Gordon Keenan (Glasgow, Scotland)

Outstanding!!, August 20, 2004

This book was an adventure all the way through. Every time that I picked it up, I found myself captured for hours as I devoured this fascinating book. Tarnoff does a magnificent job of transporting the reader with him to experience wondrous adventures in Europe, Africa, and Asia. I loved his picturesque descriptions as well as the poetic style of writing that emerges when he is describing certain experiences. Read this book and be prepared for a journey that will often make you laugh, sometimes make you cry, but in the end will leave you feeling good and triumphant.

Reviewer: Gabriel E. Figueroa (Austin, Texas)

Post-modern Siddhartha, May 29, 2004

I loved this book! It's a fantastic, beautifully-written hilarious poetic journey of one man whose search for manhood, spirituality and love takes him to the far corners of the world most of us only wish we could visit. Tarnoff writes with such color and verve that I felt transported to the cobblestone streets of Sweden, to the plains of Africa, to the perfect insanity of India, to the pristine altitudes of Nepal. Un-put-down-able, compelling, vivid, magical, funny, human. What more can I say? Read it!

Reviewer: A reader

A self-styled seeker of Truth sends postcards from his stoned journey a generation ago. Milwaukee native Tarnoff spent three youthful years in the days of Nixon and Jomo Kenyatta on the hippie trek from Bankgkok and Chaing Mai to Stockholm, Amsterdam, Paris, Athens and Crete, Nairobi and Mombasa, Bombay and Benares, Kathmandu and finally to Bali. He lugged his guitar and, in a rucksack (certainly never a suitcase), his collection of harmonicas. He rendered the blues on the mouth organ at virtuoso level, he indicates. Ingesting copious quantities of pot and a bit of opium, he early on came upon verities like "guilt is good," "people don't know what jerks they are," and "everyone is wrong about everything." In his classic quest, Terry encountered fearsome ants, crazy bats, cockroaches in the loo, holy men, and con men. Swinging his pangi, he indulged in much bangi in his shamba. He became, in other words, at one with the natives as well as his fellow travelers. And he did even better with women. Our author bedded Emmanuelle, Eva, Amelie, Sigrid, Elizabeth, devoted Martine, and ever-present Annika. In the story of Terry and his pirates, of Terry and his bipolar parent, of Terry searching for manhood and at least a touch of wisdom, does love finally conquer? It's a romance as much as a Beat Baedeker for yesterday's hipster hikers. It's a picaresque tale of blues, drugs, and women, tinged, perhaps, with a hint of fantasy and whiff of pathos -- so what could be bad? Tarnoff is now a screenwriter. Sure to arouse envy in those, now gray, who neither tripped at home nor took the disorienting trip to the Orient: a facile, vivid, novelistic yarn. (Film rights optioned by Jaret Entertainment. Agent: Jandy Nelson/Manus & Associates)

April 15, 2004

This book recounts the travels of a young man in the early '70's through Europe, Africa, Asia, Southeast Asia, and Indonesia. It's a true story written by a Wisconsin native from Rice Lake who had attended the University of Wisconsin and participated in the protests of the Vietnam war there. He spends a little bit of time recalling living in the dorm (Sellery Hall) which was right next to the dorm I lived in (Ogg Hall) thirty years later! I didn't realize there was a Wisconsin connection when I picked up this book, and it was just an added bonus. At one point he is denying the claims of a Kenyan official that he must be a hippie (long hair, beard, beads...) by telling him he's mostly Potowotomee: "a different tribe" from the hippie.

I did enjoy the book very much, though he doesn't have any direction for most of it - that's kind of the point. But that doesn't mean it's not a fascinating and well-told story with many adventures, drugs, music, and women along the way. Tarnoff does a good job of giving us a taste of the different cultures he experienced and the other expatriates he encountered during his three years abroad. And although the tale is clearly rooted in a certain time period, I found it also to be timeless in that I could relate even though the events took place before I was born.

-- Lily Sawyer (August 21, 2005)

LIBRARYJOURNAL

The cover is lurid, the title intriguing, and the subject nostalgic. First-time author Tarnoff takes us back to the early 1970s via his drug-influenced, fantastical, and foggy explorations of Greece, Africa, India, and Thailand (one may question the precise details of Tarnoff's memory from a distance of 30 years). Woven throughout are Tarnoff's two major love affairs, both with tragic endings, of course. Tarnoff would have us believe in his abilities as a superior harmonica player, astute observer of exotic customs, and adventuresome traveler. We do, to a point. There is, however, a little too much of a Raiders of the Lost Ark quality to his narrative for it to have credibility as a work of nonfiction. Giant cockroaches, shared pipes with lepers, black Mambas, unfriendly natives-and friendly natives, too? Still, Tarnoff has charm as a writer, and fellow former hippies will appreciate his chutzpa. For larger collections.

-Janet Ross, formerly with Sparks Branch Lib., NV Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Proving, yet again, India's age-old supremacy as the armchair-, deck-chair- and beach-towel-traveling capital of the world, Terry Tarnoff's The Bone Man of Benares takes us back to the author's youthful subcontinental sojourn circa 1971, alight with sex and drugs both hard and soft; big, hairy bugs; and tragic missed connections that wreck people's lives forever. Tarnoff sometimes slips into the obvious -- Bombay, surprise, surprise, is a "nonstop 24-hour circus" -- but most of the time, he scores, with unsettling, acid-fueled images that just won't quit. A fresh strawberry, for instance, sends him into a wild meditation on jaunty hats. Bali, Africa and Europe also figure in this tale of a time when faraway roads shimmered more with promise than peril, when gods and ganja competed fiercely for the attention of young Americans abroad.

-- Anneli Rufus (May 20, 2004)

American anti-war protestor's 60's world odyssey

The Bone Man of Benares is an account of the travels of an anti-war protesting drop-out, abandoning the States for 8 years to tour the world with his musical instruments (a guitar and sixteen harmonicas). Despite the seemingly inevitable presence of sex, drugs and, in this case, blues, this is not just another drug-laced, psychedelic world 'trip' tale. It is obvious from the first pages that Tarnoff not only has a prodigious storytelling talent but also literary flair and sensitivity. The book is far less a travelogue, than a biography of this period in the life of the author, and the events and people that helped shape it.

It is also a vivid recollection of the era in which the tale takes place, the political beliefs and general ideological environment of the 1960's. The impact of the Vietnam War, the hippy movement, and the repercussions and ramifications for the whole of South East Asia are all explored through very personal recollections. Tarnoff's beliefs are central to the story, with the charged and tense atmosphere of troubled people and countries evocatively portrayed through careful and sensitive use of language. The tone and general ambience of the book reminded me of 'Mash' in many ways, with its subtle mix of humour and pathos, and sometimes bleak horror.

This book is not a simple account of travelling the world. It is an individual's response to the world he finds himself existing in, the people that matter, those who don't, and the events that take place. Ultimately, the story is shaped by its geography, but no more than by the author himself. Riveting and emotionally charged, with moments of black humour.

-- Adventure Travel (UK) January 2005

When a book like this lands on you desk, your weary heart sinks. The hippie cover featuring a VW camper van, a cannabis leaf and a flower: It oozes bongs and tie-dye. Rest assured, however - it's a top read. Not your average tale of a student finding himself by digging a toilet for some tribespeople, Tarnoff's autobiographical story opens with him smoking heroin in a Bangkok flophouse and carries on in a similar vein. There's shoplifting, weed smuggling, addiction and not a full-moon party in sight. It's a brilliant account of a foolhardy young American's travels in the Seventies.

-- Front (UK) April 2005

This part-travel guide, part novel is reminiscent of Bill Bryson on acid. The writer Terry Tarnoff spent eight years travelling the world. He went to blues clubs in Amsterdam, through the jungles of Africa, all with just a bag and sixteen harmonicas. With vivid descriptions and larger than life characters, this book is the ultimate love story to the wanderlust. It will appeal to everyone from old hippies who vaguely remember the 70s to young wannabe travellers. Forget Jack Kerouac, this book makes you want to quit your job and discover the world.

-- Yoga (UK) January 2005

The hippy Indian freak-out novel rides again, complete with VW camper and flower power memories. And drugs. Lots of drugs. This will be most interesting to readers who can remember (or not...) what the fuss was about. But well worth a read by anyone who's planning to go backpacking, just for the improbable situations and impossible escapes. And it's all supposedly true -- sort of.

-- Dan McBeal, Focus (UK) May 2005

A book called The Bone Man Of Benares by Terry Tarnoff, fucking excellent. It's a diary of the author's 8 year travels around the world in the 70s. The crazy shit that happens to him is unbelievable. It's SO interesting to read. One time he was in India and got on a public transport bus. The driver kept pulling over to buy this bark which had an amphetamine effect when he chewed it. As a result he (the driver) was driving like a nutter full speed down the road trying to run any nearby monkeys over on purpose. Every time he got one all the passengers cheered! The book's full of mental stories like that. I love it. That's just the tip of the iceberg...

-- Louisa (UK) October 4, 2005

When you start this book you feel as though you were reading a non-fiction rewrite of Alex Garland's The Beach. The same down-at-heel hotel in Bangkok, the same drugs, the same unwanted visitors, heat and squalor.

So why should anyone bother? Well, the introduction is a diversion, almost a foolish aside. Get beyond it and suddenly you enter an enchanting world of love unresolved, hippie adventures in the early 1970s, moments of magic and love and laughter - the world of an American boy who, with 17 harmonicas, heads off with nothing more serious on his mind than having a good time and travelling to out-of-the-way places.

There is something charming about Terry Tarnoff. He's the most un-American American you could ever meet. No patriotism, no jargon, no self-conscious hipness. Just an innocent eager to feel and experience the world.

Within days of arriving in Stockholm he meets his grand love, Annika. He adores her but, like so many youthful passions, the course of their love is rocky and difficult. This love affair is the path along which Tarnoff travels as he moves through Europe, reaches Crete and the Greek Isles, and then heads off to Africa and India.

The result is a truly great travel book where the life of the traveller is centre stage and the experiences along the way are the constantly changing backdrop.

-- March 5, 2005 Sydney, Australia

Let experience be your guide to far horizons

A travel adventure in the 1970s when global tourism was in its infancy was a different beast from the kinds of adventure that travellers experience today. Roughing it also took on a more literal meaning. There were no industry rated youth hostels providing amenities such as internet cafes and self-contained kitchens. Luxury in drop-out Tarnoff's day was a flea- and roach-free room - bareley wider than a suitcase - with a door that locked and running water. And while English is widely spoken today - it wasn't then. Money spoke louder than any travelling American. If you are too young to have done the original overland journey or spiritual odyssey, this is a stomach-churning insight into what you missed.

-- Debbie Hunter, May 1, 2005 Sydney, Australia

Author Terry Tarnoff is an engaging young man on a globe trotting adventure. He leaves the US with a change of clothes and 16 harmonicas and does not return for eight years. Along the way he takes in such diverse places as Bangkok, Stockholm, Tibet and Tanzania and finds love and spirituality.

-- January 9, 2005 Melbourne, Australia

Disaffected by the US's involvement in Vietnam, Tarnoff takes a hippie trip around the world with only the clothes on his back and 16 harmonicas. These modern-day memoirs are a must-read for would-be intrepid travellers, with rich descriptions of our ever-inspiring planet.

-- March 7, 2005 Melbourne, Australia

A scriptwriter's freaky flashback for old hippies

Grooving by the burning funeral pyres of Benares, young traveller Terry eagerly grabs a chillum offered by a leper.

OK, he decides, this is a test by the circle of hash-smoking holy men to see if he's cool enough to put the same pipe to his lips.

He does, but to his horror he sees that he has also pulled off the leper's last remaining finger.

Stumbling along the Ganges, freaked-out Terry is accosted by a vaguely familiar figure offering to sell him bones - "special orders… skull, hip, toe…" - from partially burnt bodies thrown into the river.

Poor Terry has come face to face with his doppelganger, staring into the face of his own madness. He has let his imagination get the better of him (and perhaps he should have known that lepers don't suddenly lose appendages).

Terry Tarnoff left the US with a change of clothes, a guitar and 16 harmonicas in the early 1970s to travel through Africa, Europe, South-East Asia, India and Nepal.

In this account of his eight-year psychedelic safari, he asks himself why month after month he took broken-down lorries through the plains of Africa, decommissioned DC3s over uncharted waters, ancient trains through baking deserts and suicidal buses over the Himalayas.

"Because travel is putting yourself in impossible situations to find out who you are," he expounds.

Obviously, travelling for Terry was also an escape from Wisconsin and Nixon's America, the headlong rush to find the next high, and searching for the elusive Annika with whom he fell in love in the snowdrifts of Stockholm. Along the way, there were a few epiphanies - and plenty of sex, drugs and scurvy.

Terry Tarnoff, now a scriptwriter, hopes to turn his book into a movie. That should be a freaky flashback for old hippies.

-- Carlene Ellwood, Feb 20, 2005 Hobart, Australia

Flash back to the 70s. Terry Tarnoff drops out of Berkeley University, takes his 16 harmonicas and flees the United States, looking for kinder lands where he really can make love not war, suck in drugs rather than car exhaust fumes and commune with real people rather than the damaged products of civilisation.

For eight years he floats round Scandinavia, the Greek islands, Africa and Asia doing all those things plus meeting some fascinating people and visiting some extraordinary places.

Along the way he falls in love - yes, really in love - in the snows of Scandinavia, lives in a cave on Mykonos, sets up a band on a tiny island off the coast of Africa, smokes a joint with lepers in India, helps to open a new temple in Nepal, gets hooked on heroin in Thailand and shakes it in Laos, and meets his doppelganger in Benares.

Goodness knows where he gets the money - I guess it would be too crass to mention - but whenever things get too tense in one place there's always enough to fly on to somewhere new.

It's a rip-roaring reminder of the age of flower power when anything seemed possible; a trip down memory lane for some, envy lane for others and maybe inspiration street for a few.

Could you do a trip like that now? Why not?

-- Jim Eagles, 15 March 2005 Auckland, New Zealand