I know y’all may find this hard to believe, but I’m really not much of an extreme sportsman.
I’ve never gone hang gliding. I’ve never bungee jumped. I’ve never even snowboarded my way down a mountain pass or hung ten on a surfboard in the Pacific.
I’m more of a “leisurely walk through the neighborhood, keep your bike on a level Indiana road and move sedately along, lay by the beach, not surf in it”, kind of girl.
And yet, I’m totally fascinated by people who make it their life’s ambition to climb Mount Everest.
To that end, one of the best non-fiction books I’ve read in a long time is Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air.
Krakauer, himself a mountaineer and expert climber, decided to join an expedition to the top of Everest in 1996 as part of a magazine assignment for Outside magazine. Instead of a story about his triumph at reaching the summit, his experiences translated into this powerful memoir of not only triumph, but true tragedy on the high Himalayas.
Because this is a first-person account, you are immediately transported directly into the events as they unfolded, though some have argued that Krakauer’s book is skewed. On May 11, 1996, a record number of groups were trying to reach the summit, and on the day in question, 34 people were bound for the summit, leading to a “pile up” at the Hillary Step – this, combined with a freak weather system that dropped temperatures and oxygen levels even further than their already dangerous states and the inexperience of some of the climbers, combined to lead to eight deaths in a single day, and a total of 15 for the season, making it Everest’s “most deadly year”.
Among the dead were Rob Hall and Scott Fischer, two of the most experienced summiteers in the Himalayas, and leaders and responsible party for two of the separate ascent groups. In fact, at the time of his death, Hall had climbed Everest more than any other non-Sherpa. Their deaths rocked the mountaineering community, and led many to question the commercialization of Everest, whether the risk is worth the reward, and the safety measures in place for ascent teams.
And yet, I’m still fascinated by people who decide THIS is what they want to do – to climb higher than anyone else, risking oxygen depravation, a variety of medical traumas, hypothermia, exhaustion from lack of sleep, and even death to see the top of the world. Not to mention the exorbitant cost – a trip to the roof of the world with an experienced team can run upwards of fifty thousand dollars.
More than anything else, though, this memoir will make you hold your breath – no matter if it’s a balmy 70 degrees outside while you are reading it, Krakauer will make you feel the biting cold, and will make you feel as though every breath you take is a struggle to ingest enough oxygen in such a starved atmosphere. You will feel the weight of the packs, learn by abide by the “every man for himself” mentality, and wonder what kind of person it takes to risk life itself to reach the top of the world.
For someone who’s not an extreme sportsman, this is the closest to the summit of Everest I’m going to get… and it’s a helluva story to get there.
Jon Krakauer is also the author of Into the Wild (which was recently adapted into an award winning movie directed by Sean Penn) and Under the Banner of Heaven, which examines fundamentalist offshoots of Mormonism and untangles a murder made in the “name of faith”. In addition, Krakauer has a new non-fiction work coming this year – The Hero, which will focus on the life and death of former NFL player Pat Tillman in Afghanistan. The book is due for release on October 14, 2008.
If you enjoy reading Krakauer’s account of Everest, you may also enjoy reading Dark Summit by Nick Heil (an account of 2002’s disastrous season, a rival to 1996’s season), The Climb by Anatoli Boukreev (who was part of the 1996 disaster and sought to refute some of Krakauer’s claims), The Kid Who Climbed Everest by Bear Grylls (of Discovery Channel fame), or the forthcoming Dead Lucky by Lincoln Hall (who was left to die on Everest in 2002, and miraculously survived).
Looking to ask the Loud Librarian a question or comment on one of her reviews? Email her at marissa.priddis@crucialpop.com.
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