The Climb: Tragic Ambitions on Everest by Anatoli Boukreev, G. Weston DeWalt Summary and Reviews
|
List Price: Our Price: $9.16 You Save: $8.83 (49%) Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days Buy Used: from $0.25 (click here) Category: Book See more book details and other editions |
|---|
Book Reviews of The Climb: Tragic Ambitions on Everest
Book Review: An annoying, carelessly written book
Summary: 2 Stars
It's not surprising that accounts by different authors would result in different versions of the 1996 Everest disaster. John Krakauer offers his version in "Into Thin Air." The Russian guide Anatoli Boukreev offers a somewhat different version in "The Climb." But Boukreev is not very fluent in English, so he hired G. Weston DeWalt to write the book in his name, and that's where the problems with "The Climb" begin. DeWalt is a novice writer with no knowledge of mountain climbing and no legitimate connection to the Everest tragedy. According to "The Climb," he hadn't even met Boukreev until after the disaster. An unskilled researcher, he didn't interview any of the guides who survived the tragedy except Boukreev, so we only get Boukreev's point of view. Even worse, it seems pretty obvious that DeWalt decided to greatly overstate certain controversial aspects of the Everest tragedy in order to make "The Climb" stand out from the crowd of Everest books trying to cash in on the massive popularity of Krakauer's "Into Thin Air." DeWalt drones on and on in "The Climb" about how Krakauer supposedly went out of his way to give Boukreev a bad rap. Having just read the Illustrated Edition of "Into Thin Air," I found this claim to be completely unfounded. It made me doubt a lot of DeWalt's other claims.
The tactics DeWalt employed in "The Climb" reminded me of a slippery lawyer trying to con a jury that he thinks is too stupid to see what he's up to. Subtlety and understatement are apparently not concepts that DeWalt is familiar with. Too many times I wished he would let me make up my own mind instead of bludgeoning me over the head with his pompous, self-righteous diatribes. I also felt like he was constantly trying to divert my attention from the important issues by slinging mud at Krakauer and debating small, trivial points until my eyes glazed over. What's hard to figure is why Boukreev agreed to let DeWalt fill the book with so much mean-spirited hectoring. Why didn't Boukreev insist that DeWalt stick to the high road? Maybe, due to language problems, Boukreev didn't fully understand what DeWalt had written. When I read "Into Thin Air," I thought Krakauer portrayed Boukreev as an imperfect hero, but a hero nonetheless. Then I read "The Climb" and, thanks to DeWalt's heavy-handed portrayal, began to see Boukreev as a thin-skinned egomaniac incapable of handling even the slightest criticism.
"The Climb" offers a perspective of the Everest disaster not found in "Into Thin Air." But Krakauer's book seems to be a much more truthful account, because Krakauer did such thorough research and fact checking. Before you decide which book is more honest, you need to read the Illustrated Edition of "Into Thin Air," which has a newly added chapter at the end that reveals DeWalt's many errors, omissions, and falsehoods. It convinced me that "The Climb" was a cynical attempt by DeWalt to mislead the public. It also convinced me that although "Into Thin Air" is simply Krakauer's version of an incredibly complicated tragedy, it is a sincere, painfully candid account that deserves all its accolades. It's pretty obvious why Krakauer received several prestigious writing awards, including a Pulitzer Prize nomination.
Book Review: An honest, straightforward account.
Summary: 5 Stars
You'll know it as soon as you get into it. Boukreev and DeWalt aren't slick; they wrote an account of events that rings true. If you read Krakauer's Into Thin Air, you'll know what I mean by slick writing. And if you read any later Krakauer works (Under the Banner of Heaven), you'll also understand how he starts with a pre-formed opinion of a topic, then proceeds to "investigate". The man does hatchet jobs on people, and he certainly chopped up Boukreev pretty good.
If Boukreev was such a lousy guide, why did he get a meritorious medal? Why did he turn around and go after 3 stranded people on Everest? Does that seem like a selfish coward? I don't think so. Cowards stay in their tents. Why would Krakauer assume the worst about a guy like that, and not accept his explanations? Krakauer wrote that he had more than a little guilt from own inabilities and non-actions, and wrote Into Thin Air partly as a catharsis, so maybe he just needed to share the load. Whatever the reason, after reading The Climb, Anatoli comes off as a big man, in my opinion, speaking well and complimentary about most everybody involved in that expedition, even those who didn't deserve it. And Krakauer? If he approaches you on the street and wants to chat, run like hell. Don't say anything he can use in a book.
The Climb gives a great understanding of what all goes on to pull together a remote climbing expedition. Some people say its difficult to read because it interlaces Boukreev's translated narrative with sections written by DeWalt. Two different kinds of type are used to distinguish the difference. It's not hard; it reads easy. It's enjoyable, exciting and interesting, and mostly -- it reads true. Check it out for yourself, read both books, and then ask yourself who you would rather have a beer with after a hike, Boukreev or Krakauer? That will be a pretty good intuitive yardstick of where you think the truth is located.
Book Review: Anatoli Boukreev (1958-1997)
Summary: 4 Stars
This is a book to be read in conjunction with Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air. The Climb is not the smooth literary masterpiece woven by Krakauer and, reading like a raw chronological documentary, tends to catalogue detail at the expense of a clear overview of the situation. Told alternately, and often tautologically, by both DeWalt and Boukreev, the rival expedition's account emerges viscously from a disjointed amalgam of primary quotes. At times DeWalt's interaction with the mountaineering material sorely lacks the credibility and authority of one who was actually there. Though ostensibly clinging to Boukreev's own philosophy that no one factor can be blamed for the tragedy, DeWalt comes dangerously close to inappropriately vilifying Rob Hall's team whose slower and older members did indeed cause delays.Krakauer left readers an impression of Boukreev as the guide who "cut and ran" at the critical time - acting as an irresponsible awkward individualist, inattentive of his clients. The Climb includes crucial correspondence between Boukreev and Outside magazine (for whom Krakauer was working) that fields Krakauer's criticisms, exposing his invalid arguments and lack of communication with Anatoli himself. The transcript of an interview with Boukreev about the rescue at the South Col, left in Anatoli's imperfect English, provides a gritty authentic insight into the chaotic situation at Camp IV during the storm and leaves me in awe at Boukreev's phenomenal strength, perseverance and selfless rescue efforts which are here (finally) paid their due.
Boukreev's self-reproach and deeply felt regret at being unable to save the lives also of Yasuko Namba and Scott Fischer find an outlet in the final chapters. In the Epilogue: Return To Everest - which unfortunately reads somewhat transparently as a promotional chapter for Anatoli's formidable skills as a `mountain consultant' to the 1997 Indonesian Expedition - he wrenchingly pays tribute to the storm victims.
Essential reading for anyone with a personal interest in Boukreev's reputation, The Climb restores his actions to the heroic status which they undoubtedly merited. What the tale lacks in literary skill it makes up for by industriously creating a three-dimensional and believable image of Boukreev that astounds. "I am not a superman" (p244), writes Anatoli. After reading this book I would have to disagree.
Book Review: Another perspective.
Summary: 4 Stars
This book is great for what it is...the recollections of a professional mountain climber during the ascent and subsequent rescue of commercial expeditions on Everest in 1996. It's written in a matter-of-fact style that doesn't dally so much on the personal shortcomings of the participants. When the authors do bring criticism against individuals (almost always Krakauer or Pittman), it seems misplaced. The Adventure Consultants expedition is frequently referred to as "Krakauer's" even though he was only a client. And I think that only Krakauer is referred to as a "climber-client" and not merely as a "client" implying that he had some responsibility when things went bad. Personally, I didn't think "Into Thin Air" was that critical of Boukreev. No one can question that Boukreev's actions saved the lives of 3 others that had no hope. Thankfully the book doesn't spend much time heaping accolades on Boukreev or on placing much blame. In the end, it was individual decisions that led to the tragedies...tragedies that could have been even worse.
The response from DeWalt to Krakauer is forgettable, but the transcription of the debriefing tapes gives even more views as to what went on. The quotes from Boukreev and Lopsang, while occasionally difficult to understand, provide the most insight.
Book Review: Anothether view of disaster
Summary: 5 Stars
This work is excellenn as far as reading. It deals with the disaster that "Into thin air" has tried to deal with -- but I would recommend reading this book for its substance and its view as well as its closer focus of this particular expedition of Mountain Madness seen from their chief guide - who was probably or possibly the only one who had some control,saved some lives and survived this episode. Bless him - OM MANI PEDME HUM