Radio Shangri-La

Radio Shangri-La is a memoir of dislocation and discovery, tracing journalist Lisa Napoli's journey from a career and existential crisis in Los Angeles to the remote Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan. Answering a serendipitous invitation, she trades the relentless pace of American media for a nation just beginning to tentatively open its doors to globalization, a place famously insulated from industrialization and dedicated to measuring its success by Gross National Happiness rather than Gross National Product.

Napoli's entry point is Kuzoo FM, the country's first youth-oriented radio station, which she helps to launch. The narrative becomes a dual study: the birthing pains of a modern media outlet in a culture without traffic lights, and the author's own personal recalibration. Through her work at the station, she witnesses firsthand the profound and paradoxical impact of introducing a broadcast medium to a populace historically shielded from external influence, observing how it simultaneously connects and potentially corrodes.

The book delves beyond the simplistic Western fantasy of an untouched Shangri-La. Napoli immerses herself in the rhythms of Bhutanese life, forming deep bonds, particularly with a young woman named Ngawang. This relationship becomes a central vessel for exploring the tensions between tradition and modernity, and the universal human struggles for identity and agency, regardless of geography.

Ultimately, this is a story about the search for purpose and the redefinition of happiness. Napoli’s experience in Bhutan serves as a prolonged meditation on what is gained and lost in the relentless march of progress, offering a poignant critique of contemporary Western life while painting a nuanced, unsentimental portrait of a kingdom at a fragile crossroads. It appeals to readers of literary travelogue and introspective memoir, providing a unique lens on culture, media, and the art of building a meaningful life.

Readers appreciate the book's unique access to a cloistered society and its reflective, mid-life perspective, finding the cultural observations compelling. However, a significant contingent criticizes the narrative as overly self-indulgent, wishing for a deeper, more reportorial focus on Bhutan itself rather than the author's personal journey. The prose is considered accessible, though some find the pacing uneven, with the latter sections focusing on local friendships resonating more powerfully than the initial setup.