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3.82 AVERAGE
3.82 AVERAGE
The 1996 Everest disaster was a beginning for me - the start of my love of non-fiction. There was something in the accounts of that devastation that even now, almost 30 years later, continues to pull my attention towards athletic, endurance and extreme ventures of all kinds.
But the entire Everest disaster embodies a classic example of "The truth takes the stairs". As soon as this disaster happened, Jon Krakauer wrote his personal account of the incident and had it published in Outside magazine 4 months later (Outside having footed the bill for his summit attempt). The pre-Twitter world was dying to know what had happened at the top of the world and this biased, prideful article was consumed as The Truth.
In his article and again in [b:Into Thin Air|1898|Into Thin Air A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster|Jon Krakauer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1631501298l/1898._SY75_.jpg|1816662], Krakauer demonized Anatoli Boukreev, making him sound arrogant and irresponsible. Boukreev was made out to be the key reason that Hall, Fischer and Namba all died after summiting on that fateful day. Krakauer picked him as scapegoat and heaped him with blame.
But this book sets so much straight. Boukreev was one of 2 guides working under Fischer for Mountain Madness. In the pre-summit preparations, their key Sherpa developed HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema) and had to be removed from the mountain, accompanied by a second Sherpa from the team. As a result, Boukreev's role shifted more towards filling the gap of the 2 missing Sherpas and supporting the Sherpa team in their summit preparations. His role moved away from client comforting and pre-climb encouragement.
In a high-altitude fog himself, Krakauer couldn't have known the conversations that Boukreev had with his boss, Fischer, high above the South Col - conversations which directed Boukreev to descend quickly and prepare to rescue the failing climbers.
Walton (ghost writer) does a fabulous job of piecing together Anatoli's play-by-play of those critical 48 hours through interviews, journals and deep research. The heroic actions of Boukreev both on the mountain and in his subsequent rescue operations ended up saving about 10 lives, all while Krakauer lay prone in his tent, unable to assist his own teammates. Boukreev not only saved his own company's clients but also many from Krakauer's team and the Taiwanese team. And this was all done after Boukreev had set the ropes, established Camp 3 & 4 and summited Everest himself.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who has read Into Thin Air. Give Boukreev, in memoriam, the credit he deserves for his part in saving so many lives that brutal day.
But the entire Everest disaster embodies a classic example of "The truth takes the stairs". As soon as this disaster happened, Jon Krakauer wrote his personal account of the incident and had it published in Outside magazine 4 months later (Outside having footed the bill for his summit attempt). The pre-Twitter world was dying to know what had happened at the top of the world and this biased, prideful article was consumed as The Truth.
In his article and again in [b:Into Thin Air|1898|Into Thin Air A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster|Jon Krakauer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1631501298l/1898._SY75_.jpg|1816662], Krakauer demonized Anatoli Boukreev, making him sound arrogant and irresponsible. Boukreev was made out to be the key reason that Hall, Fischer and Namba all died after summiting on that fateful day. Krakauer picked him as scapegoat and heaped him with blame.
But this book sets so much straight. Boukreev was one of 2 guides working under Fischer for Mountain Madness. In the pre-summit preparations, their key Sherpa developed HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema) and had to be removed from the mountain, accompanied by a second Sherpa from the team. As a result, Boukreev's role shifted more towards filling the gap of the 2 missing Sherpas and supporting the Sherpa team in their summit preparations. His role moved away from client comforting and pre-climb encouragement.
In a high-altitude fog himself, Krakauer couldn't have known the conversations that Boukreev had with his boss, Fischer, high above the South Col - conversations which directed Boukreev to descend quickly and prepare to rescue the failing climbers.
Walton (ghost writer) does a fabulous job of piecing together Anatoli's play-by-play of those critical 48 hours through interviews, journals and deep research. The heroic actions of Boukreev both on the mountain and in his subsequent rescue operations ended up saving about 10 lives, all while Krakauer lay prone in his tent, unable to assist his own teammates. Boukreev not only saved his own company's clients but also many from Krakauer's team and the Taiwanese team. And this was all done after Boukreev had set the ropes, established Camp 3 & 4 and summited Everest himself.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who has read Into Thin Air. Give Boukreev, in memoriam, the credit he deserves for his part in saving so many lives that brutal day.
Not the best writing, but the story is fascinating and it gives a vilified man a chance to clear his name, which is never a bad thing
I didn't realize this was a rebuttal to Into Thin Air until I was a bit in. Laboriously detailed but interesting. Turned out to be quite good as an audiobook.
After having read Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer, I had an impression of this particular Everest expedition that, as I have found out, is completely erroneous. Mr. Krakauer unjustly and inexcusably defamed Anatoli Boukreev by painting a false picture of an event that took the lives of five individuals and left many others ravaged and haunted. This book, The Climb, presents information as gathered by the Everest team itself and Mr. Boukreev’s account of this expedition.
Not only was Anatoli Boukreev unjustly accused of wrongdoing, he was shockingly unheralded for his heroic efforts immediately following the disaster. At a time when no one else was able or willing to rescue stranded and freezing climbers, Anatoli Boukreev summoned what little strength he had left to search through a blinding and devastating storm for his fellow mountaineers. Without his aid, there would have been many more than five deaths on Everest that day.
Despite Krakauer’s efforts to convince readers otherwise, Anatoli Boukreev remains one of the most respected climbers in mountaineering history and ultimately received the David A. Sowles Memorial Award for his efforts; the highest honor awarded by the American Alpine Club. He remained, until his death in 1997, incredibly humble regarding his fantastic achievements and stoically respectful of the mountains he lived (and died) in.
This book was incredible. Well written, honest, and enthralling. Boukreev bravely explains the occurrences of the difficult expedition and thoroughly incorporated the events as recounted by his fellow climbers. As a response to Jon Krakauer’s poor evaluation and publication of the event, Boukreev and DeWalt paint an objective and detailed portrait of what really happened that day.
While detailing the expedition, Boukreev and DeWalt also examine many of the recent developments in commercial expeditions. The business is booming and, unfortunately, that has meant many climbers attempting Everest (and other harrowing peaks) with less-than-minimal experience and questionable motives. Boukreev speaks to the consequences of these developments and dives into more philosophical questions regarding high altitude mountaineering and the concept of “purchasing” a summit.
For me, this book ultimately brought honesty and closure to a highly publicized and scrutinized expedition on Everest. While Boukreev had over twenty years of high-altitude training and experience including previous Everest summits, Jon Krakauer was simply a disgruntled writer with minimal qualifications to climb a dangerous peak. Krakauer will forever be questioned in my mind as an honest and impartial journalist.
Boukreev, however, has my deepest respect.
Not only was Anatoli Boukreev unjustly accused of wrongdoing, he was shockingly unheralded for his heroic efforts immediately following the disaster. At a time when no one else was able or willing to rescue stranded and freezing climbers, Anatoli Boukreev summoned what little strength he had left to search through a blinding and devastating storm for his fellow mountaineers. Without his aid, there would have been many more than five deaths on Everest that day.
Despite Krakauer’s efforts to convince readers otherwise, Anatoli Boukreev remains one of the most respected climbers in mountaineering history and ultimately received the David A. Sowles Memorial Award for his efforts; the highest honor awarded by the American Alpine Club. He remained, until his death in 1997, incredibly humble regarding his fantastic achievements and stoically respectful of the mountains he lived (and died) in.
This book was incredible. Well written, honest, and enthralling. Boukreev bravely explains the occurrences of the difficult expedition and thoroughly incorporated the events as recounted by his fellow climbers. As a response to Jon Krakauer’s poor evaluation and publication of the event, Boukreev and DeWalt paint an objective and detailed portrait of what really happened that day.
While detailing the expedition, Boukreev and DeWalt also examine many of the recent developments in commercial expeditions. The business is booming and, unfortunately, that has meant many climbers attempting Everest (and other harrowing peaks) with less-than-minimal experience and questionable motives. Boukreev speaks to the consequences of these developments and dives into more philosophical questions regarding high altitude mountaineering and the concept of “purchasing” a summit.
For me, this book ultimately brought honesty and closure to a highly publicized and scrutinized expedition on Everest. While Boukreev had over twenty years of high-altitude training and experience including previous Everest summits, Jon Krakauer was simply a disgruntled writer with minimal qualifications to climb a dangerous peak. Krakauer will forever be questioned in my mind as an honest and impartial journalist.
Boukreev, however, has my deepest respect.
adventurous
challenging
emotional
sad
medium-paced
adventurous
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
I came away from this liking Anatoli Boukreev, who describes himself as “a difficult man.” He seems to have profound self-understanding and a strong ethical stance about mountaineering and guiding/consulting. I didn’t feel so sanguine about G. Weston DeWalt, who seemed intent on writing around and about his subject, when he could have worked with Boukreev and a translator to put things in his own words. The contrast between Boukreev’s words (in one font) and DeWalt’s descriptive writing (in another) gives the text a herky-jerky feeling. Still and all, I appreciate the different perspective and the glimpses we get of a talented, distinctive, and “difficult” climber.
Anatoli Boukreev was a hero, and his story (though long and less than exhilarating) proved to me that my thoughts on Jon Krakauer were correct- he is not the hero that he makes himself out to be! 5 stars for Anatoli the person, 3 for his book.
adventurous
challenging
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
This book is messy, and I attribute that to DeWalt’s writing and execution. His approach is questionable at best, reminiscent of a sensationalized Michael Moore documentary where the style overshadows the depth of the content. The saving grace here are the portions written by Bourkeev. That is where you see the humanity and truth of his story, which isn’t always perfect. I think his perspective is an important one when examining the events that took place, I’m glad I read this, but DeWalt’s approach really tried time and time again to make me put this book down.