Theroux’s latest, one of the highlights of my summer reading, concerns a writer’s journey on a ‘drug tour’ to the Amazon, hoping for inspiration, which comes, but at a cost.

Slade Steadman is a one-book wonder, having made his fame from a travel book called Trespassing about his youthful journeys through many countries without a passport. A TV series based on the book along with all kinds of Trespassing travel and camping merchandise has made him wealthy. Many years have passed and he still can’t come up with a second book. He needs inspiration. With the encouragement of his girlfriend, Dr. Ava Katsina, he and she set off to the Amazon on what is to be a ‘drug tour.’

The drug they take makes them nauseous and nothing enlightening comes of it. But Manfred, an ethnobotonist, shows Slade a new mutant drug he has discovered there and, with the help of the local shaman, they both take this one. Nothing happens to Manfred, but Slade has the ultimate experience. He goes apparently blind, but is gifted with a sixth sense, understanding not only the mystical aspects of his surroundings but also the hidden depths of those around him, an ability he uses as a weapon on the group, revealing everyone’s dirty and humiliating little secrets.

Back in the US at his lovely home in Martha’s Vineyard, with plenty of the smuggled drug on hand, Slade begins taking it every morning to get inspiration for his novel, to be called The Book of Revelation, which draws on erotic fantasies. The drug blinds him by day, but he dictates to Ava; at night, when sight returns, evenings are most likely spent engaging in steamy sex, which takes up a sizable middle portion of the book.

Slade’s friends and colleagues all think he has truly gone blind, a ruse he chooses to perpetuate, which makes for some fun, especially at a big shindig on the island which includes such guests such Philip Roth, Walter Cronkite, and a surprise guest whom I don’t dare give away.

Then comes the book’s publication, the critical appraisal, the book tour and the aftermath, which takes all sorts of unexpected turns.

Theroux keeps you turning the pages, wondering what the bloody hell can happen next and not disappointing. Comments on modern-day, non-risk taking travelers, afraid to go anywhere without a driver or guide, are worth the book alone. Then, after the overlong (in my opinion) sex section with constant allusion to the "demon eel," comes a great segment on the creative writing process: the blank page, the need for inspiration (which, of course, actually begins on page one and not coincidentally sees Slade and Ava at the low point of their relationship); then the wave of creativity, like sex in its power, and inevitably the comedown afterwards, the misery of the book tour, the feeling as though it was all a sham, that no one knows the real writer. Excellent stuff. And comparing Slade’s ups and downs with the special mystery guest on Martha’s Vineyard is a wonderfully playful touch.