Customer Reviews for

Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road

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Most Helpful Favorable Review

2 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

beware

If you're fan of Peart because of his drumming (such as I), and are looking for something related to drumming, you're not going to find it here. If you're a motorcyclist looking for stories about a motorcycling adventure, you're not going to find it here, either. This b...
If you're fan of Peart because of his drumming (such as I), and are looking for something related to drumming, you're not going to find it here. If you're a motorcyclist looking for stories about a motorcycling adventure, you're not going to find it here, either. This book was written from the perspective of a man that lost his whole world and was attempting to find himself and his way, by escaping into the 'unknown', and traveling 55, 000 miles using his 'vice', a motorcycle. He wasn't on the road simply touring north american highways and hotels. He was on a journey of self discovery, hoping to find something left inside of himself, to let him know he really did have continued purpose, and to carry on. Along the way, he let us in on many private letters, thoughts, and emotions. Also along the way, he included very nice imagery and descriptions of the landscapes he was traversing. I enjoyed the book very much and found it to be very revealing of Peart in a most personal way. I've been a fan of his, and Rush for some 25 years, so I was acutely aware of his passion for reading and writing. As much as I've respected him as a musician and player, I have even more respect for him as a human, dealing with tragedy. I would recommend this book to someone looking for a deeper insight into who Neil Peart is, aside from the person we, as music fans, think he is. Hope you enjoy.

posted by Anonymous on November 13, 2006

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Most Helpful Critical Review

5 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

Disappointing

This book was nothing but disappointing. After reading Mr. Peart's previous book, 'The Masked Rider,' I had high hopes for this one, only to have them dashed by over 400 pages of what I can only call 'not much.' What makes the book even more disappointing is to see th...
This book was nothing but disappointing. After reading Mr. Peart's previous book, 'The Masked Rider,' I had high hopes for this one, only to have them dashed by over 400 pages of what I can only call 'not much.' What makes the book even more disappointing is to see the clearly talented author's writing gone to waste on this material. There's very little story here or plot in a traditional sense in this book. Instead, what the reader gets is a slice of the inner workings of Mr. Peart's mind from a period covering a little more than a year during which the author attempts to recover from the deaths of both his wife and only child by removing himself from town and driving around North America on his motorcycle. Readers will undoubtedly understand just what he saw on his travels and just how he felt. This is what the reader gets, plain and simple. It is an unfiltered, raw, painful, intimate and very honest account. This is no lightweight material. The author has terrific talent for putting words together and conveying just exactly what was on his mind at the time. The book's brazenly and almost proudly unapologetic style is unmistakable; the author really doesn't care what the reader thinks. Most of these things are promising ingredients for this or any book. But after a while, one is reminded of a teenager far too full of his own bluster and self-purpose not to share it with the rest of the world, yet too immature to understand that the rest of the world has its own share of problems and that life does not and should not revolve around himself. When reading the book, one eventually feels like saying 'enough about you already, what about something for me!' And that's the main problem here and the key ingredient that's missing: the author has nothing to say that's of real interest to anybody. There's nothing for a general audience. They can't learn anything or grow from anything in this book because it doesn't seem as though it's written for the actual people who will be reading it. It seems to be a gift to a husband or a wife only; an intimate sharing of oneself that is satisfying and full as an offering to someone close, yet empty and meaningless as an offering to strangers, presumably the vast majority of the readers. It's as if only a mother or a lover could enjoy this book. To sum it all up, one can only wait eagerly for the next book and hope that it will be much better.

posted by Anonymous on September 23, 2002

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 23, 2002

    Disappointing

    This book was nothing but disappointing. After reading Mr. Peart's previous book, 'The Masked Rider,' I had high hopes for this one, only to have them dashed by over 400 pages of what I can only call 'not much.' What makes the book even more disappointing is to see the clearly talented author's writing gone to waste on this material. There's very little story here or plot in a traditional sense in this book. Instead, what the reader gets is a slice of the inner workings of Mr. Peart's mind from a period covering a little more than a year during which the author attempts to recover from the deaths of both his wife and only child by removing himself from town and driving around North America on his motorcycle. Readers will undoubtedly understand just what he saw on his travels and just how he felt. This is what the reader gets, plain and simple. It is an unfiltered, raw, painful, intimate and very honest account. This is no lightweight material. The author has terrific talent for putting words together and conveying just exactly what was on his mind at the time. The book's brazenly and almost proudly unapologetic style is unmistakable; the author really doesn't care what the reader thinks. Most of these things are promising ingredients for this or any book. But after a while, one is reminded of a teenager far too full of his own bluster and self-purpose not to share it with the rest of the world, yet too immature to understand that the rest of the world has its own share of problems and that life does not and should not revolve around himself. When reading the book, one eventually feels like saying 'enough about you already, what about something for me!' And that's the main problem here and the key ingredient that's missing: the author has nothing to say that's of real interest to anybody. There's nothing for a general audience. They can't learn anything or grow from anything in this book because it doesn't seem as though it's written for the actual people who will be reading it. It seems to be a gift to a husband or a wife only; an intimate sharing of oneself that is satisfying and full as an offering to someone close, yet empty and meaningless as an offering to strangers, presumably the vast majority of the readers. It's as if only a mother or a lover could enjoy this book. To sum it all up, one can only wait eagerly for the next book and hope that it will be much better.

    5 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 1, 2006

    Yeah, he rides...

    After reading Peart's earlier book, The Masked Rider, I took up Ghost Rider in search of more adventure, and perhaps an insight or two on grief. I slogged through the entire thing, certain there HAD to be a jewel or two in all that verbiage, but came away sorely disappointed on both counts. In The Masked Rider, Peart proved himself capable of being one of the guys. In Ghost Rider, he shows he can be an elitist prig, as well. The book is littered with disparaging references to people he encounters on the road. There's also precious little 'adventure' here. The author travels the width and breadth of North America, and never once camps out, mingles with the natives, or stays at anything less than a Best Western or Super 8 Motel. His biggest 'gamble' is whether he'll get a proper wine with his poached salmon. Worse yet, while his motorcycle eats up the miles, Peart travels not at all. He begins and ends his account in the same emotional and spiritual place. He survives his grief, but gives no indication that he's grown through it, or learned from it. Another failing, in my opinion, is in editing. I couldn't tell, with a visit to their website, if ECW is a 'vanity press' or an actual publisher, but it's obvious no one there reined in Peart's penchant for excruciating minutiae, and outsized excerpts from letters to family and friends. I do give Peart props for two things. First, he is a SERIOUS long-distance rider, and with almost 30 years of motorcycling behind me, I know what that means. Second, as a storyteller, he would probably make a pleasant enough dinner guest, provided we serve the proper wine!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 16, 2002

    Neil Peart in Dreamland

    Neil Peart, drummer for the rock group "Rush" is seemingly devastated when both his daughter and wife die nearly consecutively. He hops on a motorcycle and drives across Canada and then south into SW America as a form of therapy. The first half of the book is very good and insightful. After that, its all pomp and pretense. He writes many letters to his friends, often with asinine and ridiculously stupid topic headers and content. It seems as if he's already forgotten his pain and is all ready to party. Its obvious to anyone by mid-way that the man hates Americans, especially if they're fat or tourists. He even thinks: "die, die, die!" when addressing Americans in a buffet line. He even goes far enough to trash somebody's child. Why didn't he pummel into submission the Canadian gas station kid who gave Neil the Diesel fuel pump(instead of gas) to put into his motorcycle? This guy is as confused as they come. At the end of the book he ends up getting married to an "All-American" girl and moves in with her at Santa Monica, CA (America). Go figure! I used to have a decent respect for this guy, but he proves his massive hypocrisy in these pages. There isn't even a fleeting glimpse of anything remotely close to being intellectual from a man who's thought to be so. He even goes on to berate or ignore his fans, they few times that he mentions them. I wonder if his intent is to ostracize his following. He's sure done this to me... Good Luck

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 8, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

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