book review the chomolugma diaries

Sat, May 4, 2013

There was a Kindle eBook offer going on Twitter today which prompted me to head over to Amazon and get a copy (more anon) and after I'd bought it for the knockdown price of 79p Amazon suggested I might also like The Chomolungma Diaries by Mark Horrell for an even cheaper 62p. I was intrigued by the title and assumed it was a temporary price, along the same lines as the 79p offer I'd just snapped up so I bought it, boiled up a cuppa and fired up the iPad. Boy was I in for a treat!

I'd never heard of Mark Horrell but had an open mind and I was interested by the subtitle of it being an account of a commercial Everest expedition from a paying client's point of view. I was also on new territory never having read an eBook before, well one that wasn't a prorgramming one. I'd tried before on the first generation iPad and gave up after a while but this time I'd plumped for a black background, white text and a reasonable sized font. Plus the cuppa helped too.

In April/May 2012 Mark went with a commerical outfit to the north side of Everest and the book is basically his diary entries, as-is almost. The writing is fluid and easy going and I soon disappeared into the story, which seemed to be one of the grinding tedium of base camp broken often by outrageous alcohol consumption, or so it seemed. It was a bit of a shock to find out how large these base camp areas are, while up at Advanced Base Camp (ABC) you can't even escape the noise of thumping stereos.

But this boredom and frustration is just the necessary backdrop to the eventual summit push, wonderfully written over several chapters and vividly perceptive in that the descent is always in the back of his mind rather than the summit as the end in itself. The characters aren't fleshed out in any detail as it's a fairly short book but this means the action is constant once the summit attempt is underway. Mark's character observation fills in just enough to place himself in context and as I skipped over the fast moving prose each sketch would come back to me as that particular character came and went on the climb and bits clicked into place. Very subtle writing in places that I really enjoyed.

What really astounded me was the almost total reliance on others in order to get anywhere. It seemed to be a tale of pay your money, turn up and follow the fixed ropes. The entire north side of Everest was in limbo while the Chinese/Tibet rope fixing crew worked their way up the ridge with all the teams following behind and being allocated their departure time on summit day to leave camp 3 and go for it. Having said that, following fixed ropes is no easy task for anyone and Mark puts this nicely in context at the end of the book with a fitting commentary on the process. One of personal achievement rather than the mountaineering world domination of the big hitters. It's his story, his struggle and his achievment told in his own, inimitable way.

The fast pace is no doubt down to the source material coming direct from his diaries but one thing I found a little jarring was the inclusion of photographs. The writing is wonderfully descriptive in just the right amount. None of the gushings of Mallory he quotes when on the north col, just enough for you to paint a picture of the terrain to feed your imagination. For instance, I was gripped reading of the ascent to the 'Ladder of Death', only to be jolted back to the living room by a picture of it. I quickly forgot what it looked like though and continued with my own imaginative version constructed from the vivid writing.

There is wry humour aplenty and I laughed out loud quite a few times, almost spilling my cuppa at some of the scenes and characters while the account of the ascent reminded me of the time I climbed the Matterhorn and I came very close to understanding some of the feelings he describes on that day.

The book ends with terribly poignant observations of events during summit day. Personal reaction to what occurred and what might have been, if only...

This isn't a book for the gung-ho. There are no injections direct into the ganglia on Annapurna to save frostbitten body parts. There are no dragging of severed limbs across jagged rocks or manly chested chisel chinned guides hauling wailing clients to their doom. But there are arse feathers flying, near disaster thawing a frozen pee bottle and a mad Russian trying to drag a six foot cross to the top without the Chinese finding out.

This book is an honest account of one bloke's trip to Everest, the hard way, for him and told beautifully. I'm so glad I got it!