This is a beautiful account of one man’s experiences flying mail routes over mountains, oceans and deserts in the 1920s and 1930s. He has a tendency to go on a bit once he gets going on matters abstract and poetical, but when he confines himself to describing particular moments and experiences the prose sweeps you away. His account of being lost in the Libyan Desert is a great piece of writing. At his more fanciful, when he lets his imagination run away with himself, the writing can be magical. However, he can also lose himself and his reader in his grand notions and vague and sentimental epiphanies.