Customer Reviews

Fallen Giants: A History of Himalayan Mountaineering from the Age of Empire to the Age of Extremes

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This is an excellent history of mountain climbing in the Himalaya. Isserman and Weaver do a masterful job, not just of recounting the history, but placing the efforts in political and cultural context. There were long periods where access to these mountains was restricted or forbidden. There has also always been a competitive thread to the missions, as climbers tried for all kinds of "firsts." Of course the history is filled with both triumphs and tragedies, and the authors tell these stories in a most engaging way. I have only two small nits with the book. First, it ends in the mid 90s, even though the book was published this year. And second, while there are lots of photos and maps, I wish there were more of the latter, as I kept looking for the mountains, glaciers, towns, and other geographical entities. But these aside, this is an altogether wonderful book.

I'm about 150 pages into this book. It's been excellent so far but sadly lacking in one area - a good map of the Himalaya, from K2 in the west to Kangchenjunga in the east - and the many towns and villages mentioned in the book. It would have been ideal for the authors to include one on the endpapers. Then the reader could quickly flip there for reference. There are smaller maps throughout but many of them frustratingly do not include many of the place names mentioned. I have ordered the only map I could find - by Nelles Verlag - and will pick up the book again when it arrives. I actually bought it for a gift, so I'll be including the map with the book.

This is the ultimate book for a mountaineering junkie. Fair, comprehensive and enormously entertaining. In lieu of a guide to all the photos and maps, however, I made up my own and used it as a bookmark. I couldn't have sustained interest without being able to refer to it often. Other than that, it was an excellent book.

Finally, a truly substantive history of Himalayan climbing. Among many fine narratives of the world's tallest peaks, "Fallen Giants" goes farthest in locating mountaineering in proper sociopolitical context, though British expeditions get more coverage. Treatment of the Sherpas, in particular, takes full account of their improved status from colonized porters to equal expedition partners. Cf. S. Ortner, "Life & Death on Mt Everest.") In an overdue tribute to their unmatched contributions, heroes like Ang Tharkay and especially Tenzing Norgay receive their due, along with many others who left thinner paper trails. There's more analysis than in other mountain classics, which may bother some rock jocks, but the politics of expeditions matter, especially back when Europe ruled much of the world. But this is no mere radical tract: the humanity of all participants is the main focus. The authors deplore the sensationalism and commercialism of recent decades, seeing a decline from an earlier if not exactly golden age. The 1953 attempt on K2 is a fine centerpiece to the whole. The monumental compassion of that team, who abandoned their chance to summit K2 in a futile attempt to save stricken Art Gilkey, still inspires people in all fields of endeavor. Pete Schoening's remarkable belay which rescued 6 men from a 10,000-foot fall---arguably mountaineering's most dramatic moment---is eclipsed by the awesome possibility that Gilkey sacrificed himself to save those trying to save him. Truly an epic of humanism, one of many shared here.

Mountain climbing has always had a last frontier quality. The race to the North and South Poles ended in the early 1900's, Africa and South America were explored by the 1930's, leaving the Himalayan Mountains as the last challenge for adventure. Mr. Isserman and Mr. Weaver has written a comprehensive history of the conquests of the world's highest peaks. Starting from the competitive nationalist expeditions of this century to the solo attempts of today, the book is clearly written and well-researched, with over 100 pages of documentation and notes. The reader can read as a follow-up Maurice Herzog's "Annapurna" (1952), an epic tale of the French harrowing attempt to be the first to conquest a Himalayan peak.

Although the authors have made an excellent work as historians, I feel that the result is somewhat unbalanced:

1. As so many times - and this is a flaw that for obvious reasons is often undetected by anglosaxon eyes - the book decidedly focuses on (mostly, although certainly not only) anglosaxon feats. If you do not understand what I mean, then simply reflect on the fact that the authors stick to the preposterous (I can say no less) imperial measures, when U.S. and British climbers alike are well acquainted and used to the international metric system. In a sort of patronizing fit, they admit to provide the height of any peak, when first mentioned, in both feet and metres, but then and then only. The rest are feet, miles, etc. And by this I do not intend to stop only at the metres/feet issue, there is a lot more, and more profound in this first criticism .

2. It is hard to establish the criteria that the authors follow in choosing the expeditions and facts they go to explain in detail, and those they simply finish off in a couple of lines. Sometimes eight or seven thousanders are dealt with in a couple of paragraphs, other times less significative peaks (and I do not mean only in terms of height) enjoy lengthy passages (I am tempted to say, merely on account of anglosaxons being their protagonists).

If you feel criticisms 1 and 2 are out of bounds, I would replay that it is then the title and subtitle of the book which need amendment.

3. Although a substantial effort has been made, maps and sketches are insufficient, and there is not even an index to them, so one has to go back and forth searching for them as needed.

4. The last decades of the twentieth century go by too quickly in the book, where only Meissner and Bonington deserve a closer look. Kukuzcka, for instance, is simply mentioned as second in the 'race' for the fourteen eightthousanders, when this Polish climber did a lot more than that, generally opening new and daring routes in alpine style or almost, sometimes in close chronological succession, etc.

5. Despite the lengthy notes to every chapter, the bibliography is disappointingly dry. I, for one, would have appreciated some guidance from the authors.

All in all, it is a monumental effort, well written, and it will be hard for anyone to challenge it soon, although a revised edition would certainly enhance its value.

All has been said about the problem with maps, and I concur. I also agree with the reviewer from Spain about the anglo saxon and anglophile bias of the book.

I would add that the authors are unfair and judgmental when talking about climbers of recent years. The old amateur (noble, romantic, selfless and idealistic) vs pro mountaineer (self centered, materialistic and unfeeling) comparison ignores the fact that the "gentlemen" of the old days came from the privileged classes and did not have to worry about how to make a living AND pay for expeditions. I particularly disliked the portraying of John Roskelley obviously colored by Andy Harvard and Peter Lev's opinions (see acknowledgments and bibliographies). Anyone who read accounts of the 1976 Nanda Devi expedition knows that Harvard and Lev were at odds with Roskelley almost throughout the trip.

Otherwise a fascinating, gripping history of Himalayan climbing, told in the context of the times of each expedition, with portrait of mountaineers not only as athletes but as men and women with the qualities and flaws of the era of which they were the products.

For anyone interested in writing about climbers (or, in my case, obsessed) or adventurers of any sort, you'll love this book. It goes back to the very first (albeit first western) assaults on the heights. The recounting are alternately funny and tragic, filled with eccentrics and adrenaline junkies and practitioners of the art. I was very surprised (and delightedly so) to see that Yale published the book.

This well written and balanced history of Himalayan Mountaineering entertainly describes the adventures,personalities, and climbing culture of a truely facinating place and era . I think that anyone who has climbed in North America and the Himalayas and had had the pleasure of meeting or reading the accounts of the individuals covered in this history will highly enjoy this book. The numerous notes and cited materials are a great resource for readers of climbing literature.

Maurice Isserman and Stewart Weaver give us a marvelous history of climbing in the Himalayas. The journey is the thing: There and Back Again, as Bilbo Baggins put it. The unclimbed peak, the new and bolder route, the cherished traditional path, these are merely excuses for us to get out and roam around, see what one can see, and test one's self against Nature and other people's accomplishments.

After years of climbing in lesser ranges, I nerved myself to join with three climbing friends for an attempt on Mera (21,700 feet), the highest of the trekking peaks in Nepal. We took a scenic approach, helicoptering from Kathmandu to Phaphlu and winding by the Ringmo Monestery, crossed the Dudh Kosi, through Pangkongma (prosperous and neat), thence along a ridge at (at 14,000 feet) before dropping to the Hinku Drangka and on to Tagnag, the last settled spot before the trail rises to Kahre and Mera La. From there on Mera is a snow climb. We were the first post-monsoon party, so the trail had to be broken. The only party we met on our way was a group of four Gurkhas normally stationed in Brunei who were taking their British officers for a vacation in Nepal. Their whole party was having a grand time.

From Mera, you can see five of the fourteen eight-thousand-foot peaks. The scenery is stunning. The scale of the range is palpable. Moreover, our circuitous approach led us along high ridges in dismal cold mist where the occasional warmer scented breezes form below were heavenly. The rhododendrons are magnificent. The small settlements are variously prosperous or dismal, and you understand the richness and harshness of the land. The mani stones, shrines, and diverse temples speak to the depth and diversity of cultures that have washed through these valleys and crept toward these peaks.

But how does it happen that we can so easily get to these wonderful places? This history of Himalayan mountaineering gives the answer. Isserman and Weaver make ithat history come alive and put it in context. I was astonished by their account of the achievements of Alexander Kellas, who was completely unknown to me. I was surprised and pleased by the coverage Rob Schaller's unofficial first solo ascent on Nanda Devi. The authors make clear the extent to which the Mountaineering Establishment was a bastion of privilege, an era now mostly past us, I hope.

Some reviewers called for more maps. Help is available. To see more, try Google Earth for the satellite view. It also has photos by people who visited these places. The Schneider maps of the Shorong/Hinku and Khumbu Himal give a good understanding of the Mera and Everest regions. Then go trekking. Even today the romance of Kipling and Kim lives in these hills. Thanks to the development of the trekking business, you can get to the hills in a few days. Then begin your own discoveries. Don't rush it. Travel hopefully and enjoy.