I first read this book in 2004 when I solo-trekked to Everest Base Camp.
I remember loving the book at the time, swept up as I was in the immensity of making it alone to EBC, never mind the mountain itself. I read everything I could lay my hands on about the mountain, and this was definitely one of the more “fun” reads.
Fast forward 22 years. I’m recovering from a 6000m climb in the Himalayas, and this book made for perfect R&R reading.
It is every bit as enjoyable as I had remembered, and also way more exuberant and funny.
Mr. Blessed is a born storyteller and his book fairly vibrates with enthusiasm and happiness and exuberance.
Once his project to make a film about Mallory & Irvine (the climbers who disappeared on Everest in 1924) finally gets underway, Mr. Blessed who climbs amazingly high on Everest, dressed in replica 1920s clothing, is in a state of almost perpetual delight. He has a couple of admittedly bad moments, but by and large, this happy, grateful man makes his way up the mountain surrounded by affection and brilliant support and he shouts and sings and jokes his way through treacherous terrain and up frighteningly steep slopes, happy as a lark.
What is so endearing about the book is the author’s happiness and gratitude as he marvels at the outstanding and often savage beauty he witnesses. He is constantly aware of the privilege of being on Everest:
“For there, in front of us, two miles away, was the legendary North Col.
“The North Col!” we madly shouted.
“Jesus, Graham! We’re here!… We’re here! Man alive! We’re here at last!”
Our speech became disoriented, insane and feverish.
“See!…See!…The Col leading onto the North Ridge, and the summit behind!”
You feel like cheering out loud with them, so contagious is Mr. Blessed’s excited joy.
Mr. Blessed sees the best in (nearly) everyone, one notable exception being “the wily, ever-present, grasping, spawn-eyed git, Mr. Ping” a Chinese official whose only calling in life seems to be to harass the climbing teams for ever more money and then order them off the mountain. When the author meets Mischa, an eccentric, stroppy, unconventional climber who also hates Mr. Ping:
“Ah! So you’re the wild man who’s going to shoot Mr. Ping!…Come here, you crazy bastard!” I roared at him.
Mr. Blessed makes friends easily, hugging and laughing and joking (and mercilessly tickling a poor Bhutanese liaison officer).While he is still planning the expedition and the film, he meets 99 year old Captain Noel, the last surviving member of the 1924 climbing team from which Mallory and Irvine sadly disappeared. His meetings with the wonderful, sprightly Captain Noel are a joy to read and extremely moving, since the Honorary Deputy Leader of the still-nascent expedition to film and retrace the steps of the 1924 expedition dies before filming started. But Mr. Blessed remembers the old gentlemen many times as he climbs, thinking how proud he would’ve been.
A lovely, happy, uncomplicated read – even if you have never even hiked a kilometre in your life, this is a book to make you sit and up and think of the wondrous possibilities out there, just waiting to be explored.
As I mentioned at the outset of this review, I’m currently resting after my own climbing expedition, so this passage resonated strongly:
“Freedom is not a static state, but appears to grow and grow, without limits. Possibly this feeling accumulates and continues to develop within the climber, from mountain to mountain. Whatever it is, in that world of high winds, cold, heat, joy, sadness, tents, ridges and foul-smelling latrines, the climber deems that state of mind sacred and quietly protects it.”
Oh yes!
Highly recommended.