(by Moira Creedon, from IMC Newsletter Spring 2004)
A review of the winner of the 2003 Boardman Tasker Prize for Mountaineering Literature

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“You could see his hands going up on the rock above him, imagine his fingers touching the rock and finding the flakes and nicks that are what pass for holds on that kind of route. Mere unevenness. What the climbers of the past would have called rugosities. They all seemed to have had the benefit of a classical education. Not the present breed. ‘Thin,’ the modern climber might say.”

Two lines later the climber is dead.

The Fall is an extremely unusual book. A brilliantly successful work of fiction but also a detailed and accurate foray into the world of mountaineering. You realise within a few lines of the book that Simon himself has to be an experienced climber and mountaineer to recreate this world in such loving detail.

After the stark opening the book returns to the beginning in a North Wales childhood to retrace the lives of Jamie Matthewson and Robert Dewar his climbing partner, as seen through the eyes of Rob. From their innocent early attempts in the Welsh slate quarries, through winters battling on climbs in Scotland, they share the joys of climbing (“like smoking and sex together”) until the final challenge they take on together tears them apart. Rob comes close to destruction at the climax of the book (at the Eiger Nordwand) to be saved and dragged back to the world of normality by his future non-climbing wife Eve.

Is he saved? As we watch Rob progress to a world of New Labour, a solid career with two children and two budgies, while Jim rushes further and higher towards his inevitable death, we are left with all of our assumptions in tatters at the end.

This is not a novel that uses climbing as “interesting background”. By the end of the book the issues of personal identity, climbing, love, commitment, truth, beliefs, goals … are so inextricably interlinked that it is impossible to say what the book is about, except that it touches almost too many chords. To any climber the settings of the book alone are disconcertingly familiar. Looking up at an as-yet-unclimbed Cenotaph Corner, Jamie’s father Guy begins his first climb with his future love. The descriptions of weekly meetings of the “City Climbing Club” would make you wonder if Simon has penetrated the inner circle of the Church House.

We wander effortlessly through the lives of several generations and Mawer achieves the time travel in a convincing and evocative way with the minimum of descriptive prose and no melodrama. The recreation of the innocence of a pre-war hiking weekend is as vivid as the world-weariness of 70’s hippie climbing chick Ruth with her cheap bangles and ragged satin waistcoat.

The writing in this book is as understated as the movements of the climber we watch in those opening pages and a sense of lurking doom pervades the book, just as it must have haunted the minds of those who watched the solo climber fall to his inevitable death.

It is nonetheless an uplifting and beautiful book. "There is something old-fashioned about climbing", Mawer writes near the end of the novel. "It lets in emotions that one does not readily admit to any longer: companionship, commitment, even love." This book leaves so many fascinating questions opened but unanswered it will guarantee heated household discussions – and in our house at least, several people were late for work because they just couldn’t put it down!

Strongly Recommended

(by Kevin Byrne, from IMC Newsletter Summer 2004)
A review of Robert Roper’s book about the high-altitude life and death of Willi Unsoeld, American Himalayan legend.

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“…It has to be real enough to kill you” – so said Willi Unsoeld of outdoor adventure education. Sadly ‘it’ became real enough to kill him in 1979 at the relatively early age of 52. A theologian, professor of philosophy, life-long top-class mountaineer, family man, raconteur and one of the first Americans to climb Everest in 1963, by a new route and traverse, Unsoeld was swept away by an avalanche as he descended Mount Rainier in winter with a group of students – just a few short years after the tragic events that form the centrepiece of this biography.

A deserving winner of the Boardman-Tasker award for mountain literature, the book is a gripping read. In style reminiscent of the investigative and racy journalistic writing of Jon Krakauer, it recounts the story of the 1976 ascent of Nanda Devi by a team of top Americans that included Unsoeld and his daughter Devi – named after the mountain. Being the highest mountain in India, Nanda Devi is fittingly both remote and sacred to Hindus as the home of the Goddess Devi, consort of Shiva, who can be both bountiful and terrifying. Access to the peak is made difficult by a protective ring of very high mountains and passes that also maintain the unique ecology and climate of the Nanda Devi Sanctuary – a World Heritage site. Opened up to climbers for just a few short years (during which time the expedition took place) the Sanctuary quickly began to suffer the ravages of man. Fortunately it was closed again by the Indian Government in the early 1980’s and remains so.

Woven into the story of the expedition is Roper’s account of the life, philosophy and mountaineering achievements of Unsoeld, a colossus on the stage of American, if not world, climbing. Written in the present tense, the reader feels very much a part of the unfolding drama … an expedition begun with no clear objective, it had two nominal leaders, generational gaps, logistical difficulties, interpersonal relationships and tensions, a father-daughter combination, bad weather, objective dangers, chauvinism, illness and bowel-loosening fear. In short, ingredients far more exciting than your average blockbuster novel.

That the expedition succeeded was due largely to the determination and single-minded ruthlessness of the up-and-coming alpha male, John Roskelley. Roskelley’s personality and approach present the perfect foil to the heroic and philosophical Unsoeld. Tragedy struck late on in the expedition, after the summit had been achieved, and the reader is left wondering if it might have been avoided. Roper is sympathetic to his subject and perhaps in awe of a man who displayed charisma, intellectual vigour, good humour and physical stamina in such abundance throughout his life. But, as he draws on conflicting accounts of the events, Roper asks some serious questions and in the end exposes how empty and fragile all philosophy can be in the face of human loss and tragedy.

The writing is crisp and dramatic with frequent interesting, occasionally frustrating, but never dull, discourses on history, theology, mythology, sociology and even political dirty tricks. A natural leader of men in all his endeavours, Unsoeld lived life as he preached. This book celebrates that life, cut short at just 52, but already filled with achievements sufficient for any half-dozen high-flyers.

If you want a book that will strike fear and admiration in you and keep you turning the pages then “Fatal Mountaineer” is the one. Go buy it.

Me, I’m off to get my hands on John Roskelley’s book on the same expedition. A different perspective I suspect … watch this space.

Fatal Mountaineer: The High-Altitude Life and Death of Willi Unsoeld, American Himalayan Legend
by Robert Roper.
Published: March, 2002
ISBN: 0312261535
Now in paperback
c.€15

(by Paul Donnelly, from IMC Newsletter Winter 2003)
A review of Walter Bonatti’s book.

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This is a book of two halves – possibly two books in one. The bulk of the book is a new English translation by Robert Marshal of selected highlights from Bonatti’s mountain publications and covers all his major ascents chronologically. The second half of the Mountains of my Life deals extensively with the controversy arising out of Bonatti’s role in the successful Italian first ascent of K2 in 1954. Of the book’s 400 pages just 25% is given to the K2 issue.

The man:

Walter Bonatti is regarded by many as the greatest mountaineer of his time. Yet his extreme climbing career was quite short and dogged by controversy. He retired from top level climbing in 1965 (the Matterhorn Centenary year) with his great first solo ascent of the North Face of the Matterhorn in winter.

Born in 1930 in Bergamo in fascist Italy, Bonatti’s career spanned the period 1948-65 (17 dynamic years). He was during this period Europe’s leading alpinist with numerous breakthrough first ascents – quite a few of them solo ascents.

Highlights included:

• i951 – East Face of the Grand Capucin – first ascent
• 1953 – Tre Cima di Lavaredo (Cima Ovest) – first winter ascent.
• 1958 – Gasherbrum IV (Karakoram) – first ascent
• 1959 – Red Pillar of Brouillard (Mt. Blanc) – first ascent
• 1963 – Walker Spur (Grandes Jorasses) – first winter ascent
• 1964 – Whymper Spur (Grandes Jorasses) – first ascent
• 1965 – North Face of the Matterhorn – first winter ascent

From 1965 to 1980 Bonatti indulged his passion for outdoor adventure as a photojournalist. He is now in active retirement in Italy – a respected figure in mountaineering circles.

The Book:

Bonatti’s Greatest Climbs: As noted the first half of this book is a selection in a new English translation of Bonatti’s previously published climbing writing and includes his description of all his major climbs (and epic failures) in chronological order. Two of Bonatti’s published books – On the Heights and The Great Days – had earlier been published in English. However the translations were not satisfactory and at times even conveyed the opposite of what Bonatti had written. As a result he had refused proposals to publish English translations of later books and this was the situation until he developed a close friendship with Robert Marshall (who worked with him on clearing his name) and enthusiastically endorsed the present book.

Bonatti, like many outstanding figures, is a man of strong character and opinions. For him the approach and spirit in which he achieved his climbs had equal importance with getting up the climb. The personal battle and an ethical approach were for him essential. He notes sadly in the book that many leading climbers did not share his ethical approach. In keeping with his views he proposed in 1955 (the year after the K2 first ascent in which he participated and of which more anon) climbing K2 solo and without oxygen. Unfortunately this revolutionary proposal was at the time considered ridiculous and he failed to get sponsorship. Had he done so and succeeded he would have anticipated Messner’s feat on Everest by some decades.

It seems clear that Bonatti’s strong personality made him for many a difficult climbing partner and team player. While he may naturally have been something of a loner it is difficult to avoid speculating how far his unfortunate K2 experiences may have contributed to his subsequent personality. He was a young man on K2 – only 23 – and the negative aura that surrounded him after the expedition (at least in Italy – his home) clearly affected him deeply and overshadowed the rest of his career. This book does not deal with this in any detail and we must await a future biography.

In my opinion Bonatti is not in the first rank of climbing writers. As a storyteller he at times seems to rather rush the fences; in addition his descriptive powers are limited. Both defects often combine to leave the reader unsatisfied – the more so because of the quality of the actual adventure being reported. This may be partly a matter of translation but I suspect it is just that Bonatti is not a natural writer and often under severe time pressure. However this book is in my view well worth reading because of the stature of the author, the epic quality of the ascents, and the boldness and courage they required overcome all reservations about writing ability. The author carries us breathlessly in his wake as he conquers one ‘impossible’ route after another. Meanwhile he shares his views about climbing, nature, and the importance of commitment to the challenge. No climber can avoid a degree of failure and Bonatti is no exception. The chapter on the retreat on the Central Pillar of Freney (Mt Blanc) which left 4 dead climbers and Bonatti mired in more controversy is one of the most gripping of the book. At the end of the climbing chapters one is left with an image of Bonatti as perhaps the last knight from the Golden Age of Alpine Mountaineering who left the field after performing a fitting tour de force on the Matterhorn in the centenary year of its first ascent.

The K2 Controversy: The second half of The Mountains of my Life deals extensively with the controversy arising out of Bonatti’s role in the successful Italian first ascent of K2 in 1954 by Compagnoni and Lacadelli. Feted at the time these climbers come out of this book with their reputations considerably diminished. Bonatti, although at 23 the youngest climber on the expedition, had a central role in the successful ascent in that it was he together with Hunza Mahdi who carried the vital oxygen bottles to over 8,000m for the summit attempt. However because the lead climbers had not placed the top camp at the agreed spot and failed to respond to Bonatti’s calls he and Mahdi were caught out by nightfall and were forced to bivouac without a shelter at 8,100m in a storm without food or drink. Miraculously Bonatti escaped unscathed but Mahdi subsequently loss all his fingers and toes. After the expedition returned, despite the headline first ascent, controversy raged in Pakistan about the Italians’ conduct, which led to Mahdi’s horrific injuries. By a cruel twist Bonatti was scapegoated by the expedition leader Ardito Desio and the summiteers and subsequently by the Italian mountaineering establishment; he was blackballed and eventfully forced to abandon his career as a mountain guide in Aosta. For the rest of his active climbing career and right up to the 90’s Bonatti was an isolated figure in Italy steadfastly seeking to clear his name by writing and even by court action. In this he was only partly successful until Robert Marshall (the book’s translator), an unlikely saviour, became involved on his behalf and uncovered key evidence in a 1950’s Swiss mountain magazine. How Marshall, an Australian surgeon with an active interest in mountaineering, became involved is a fascinating story in itself. From his reading he became interested in Bonatti and his exploits and in particular in the K2 controversy and Bonatti’s resulting plight. To pursue the matter he took the trouble to become fluent in Italian and read the relevant published literature. He then made his way to Italy and met Bonatti, subsequently becoming his close friend and collaborator. By careful research and a degree of serendipity he came to vindicate Bonatti’s role on K2. This aspect of the book reads like a gripping “whodonnit?” and is covered by contributions both by Bonatti and Marshall to build an (to me) impressive case for Bonatti’s defence.

At the back of the book is appended a speech by Bonatti in 1989 outlining his philosophy of mountaineering at an International Conference. This is, despite the interesting theme, in my view again marred by Bonatti’s weak communication skills and leaves one rather unsure of what Bonatti’s key concerns and prescriptions are and rather under-motivated in supporting them.

To sum up then, despite some gripes about Bonatti’s writing, this book rewards the reader by giving us an overview of the career of one of the giants in mountaineering – one who stood for the old values of self-reliance, challenge and adventure and stood apart from the seductions of commercialism with its perils of short-cut and hype. As a bonus you get a gripping detective story. Get it if you can. Remember it is available from Dublin libraries!

The Mountains of my Life
Walter Bonatti
The Modern Library (Exploration Series)
Translated by Robert Marshall
ISBN 0-375-75640-X
€20.85 Available from Dublin City Libraries