The ratio of misery to pleasure was greater by an order of magnitude than any other mountain I’d been on; I quickly came to understand that climbing Everest was primarily about enduring pain. And in subjecting ourselves to week after week of toil, tedium, and suffering, it struck me that most of us were probably seeking, above all else, something like a state of grace. [loc. 1952]
Krakauer's decision to join one of the Everest expeditions in 1996 was professional rather than personal: he was initially only going to climb as far as Base Camp, and report on the commercialisation of Everest. Having been a keen mountaineer in the past, the prospect reignited his enthusiasm for climbing, and he decided he wanted to make the ascent to the summit.
What sets Into Thin Air apart from other survival / mountaineering works is Krakaeur's examination of his own culpability. Despite a somewhat defensive afterword, he's very much aware that his presence on the expedition may have influenced decisions made by the team leader, Rob Hall, and that his own actions and attitudes likely caused at least one death and perhaps more. Because, through sheer bad luck*, Krakauer was making the final ascent in May 1996, when twelve climbers died: 'the worst single-season death toll since climbers first set foot on the peak seventy-five years ago' (now the third worst, due to the 2014 avalanche and the 2015 earthquake).
Krakauer writes clearly and evocatively about the joys and miseries of climbing: he portrays interactions objectively, for the most part, and lets the reader draw their own conclusions: he describes the history and sociology of Everest ascents, and the ways in which the climb has become a commodity. I had a strong sense of the heroism of some individuals, and the appalling behaviour of others (refusing to loan a radio to help coordinate rescue; not stopping to help climbers in mortal danger). Krakauer does point out that 'lucid thought is all but impossible at 29,000 feet', due to altitude sickness and hypoxia: and more recent studies have shown that the lack of oxygen was worsened by the weather: 'atmospheric oxygen levels fell by an additional 6% as a result of the storm, resulting in a further 14% reduction in oxygen uptake' (source).
In some ways 1996 is a very long time ago: reading about 'technological limitations' brought home how much things have changed since then. "E-mail was received in Kathmandu, printed out, and the hard copy was transported by yak to Base Camp. Likewise, all photos that ran on the Web had first been sent by yak and then air courier to New York for transmission. Internet chat sessions were done via satellite phone and a typist in New York..." [loc. 4551]. One of the climbers was attempting to 'live-blog' her climb, which seems ... ambitious. And the mountain itself has changed: the Hillary step, a major chokepoint for climbers, is no longer there.
In some ways an inspirational read, in others a reminder that the heights of Everest are inimical to human life. Either way, Krakauer's account engaged and compelled me.
* And bad decisions by several individuals, and poor communication, and other factors...
There is an opera...
I bought this in October 2014, and finally read it as part of my 'Down in the Cellar' self-challenge, which riffs on the metaphor of to-be-read pile as wine-cellar rather than to-do list.
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