Customer Reviews

The Rider

5 star:		(36)
4 star:		(10)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

An utterly engrossing book, "The Rider" by Tim Krabbé is a first-person account of a competitor in a French amateur cycling race. Kilometer by kilometer, the author describes, economically, but with plausible feeling, the range of emotions he goes through. It is clear that he rides for the love of cycling, but his writing reveals the mental calculations, often not very flattering, that go through the mind of a rider. A chess player, he is out on the road playing a form of chess with his opponents, considering their weaknesses, weighing their histories, examining his own position on the board, so to speak.

In this short book about a 150 km long race, Tim Krabbé also travels back in his mind, recalling legends of bike racing as well as his own dreams of sporting success in Holland. These include some wonderful absurdist episodes, including a brief "Little ABC of Road Racing" where he fantasizes about riding with Merckx and Anquetil and the other greats in a series of bizarre circumstances. And all through this one is conscious of the race going on, the change of scenery and weather and how the cyclist must constantly monitor his situation-now trying to make up for his downhill lack of skills, now attacking as the others weaken, now preparing for a sprint. One is struck by the fundamental cruelty of the sport, how one must endure pain and inflict it as well.

Anyone who has ridden fairly seriously will love this book, as will those who admire strong, clean writing. The author has brilliantly portrayed a concentrated moment. This is a world of intense focus and narrow but exhilarating boundaries.

Cycling holds a unique niche in the world of sports. It is a delicate balance between rider and machine, between strength and tactics, between the individual and the team, between man and the elements. Anyone who has ever ridden seriously knows that almost any serious ride is an epic journey, an endless series of choices and possibilities, of suffering and pleasure.

To date, I have read nothing that captures the real essence of that experience nearly as well as Tim Krabbé's The Rider, which was originally published in 1978 in Amsterdam and which appeared in English only in 2002. Like a racing bike that has been relieved off all excess weight and trimmed of anything that could increase resistance against the wind, The Rider is prose in its most basic and stripped down form. There is hardly a wasted or misplaced word here: the writing is crisp, powerful, efficient, and compelling.

The little book weighs in at just 148 pages, just a little more than one for each of the 137 kilometers of the Tour de Mont Aigoual, by all rights a nondescript semi-pro bicycle race through the rolling mountains of Cévennes, in south central France. It may not sound like much, but Mr. Krabbé breathes life into it by describing perfectly what goes on inside a racer's head: everything from relevant glimpses at strategy -- in addition to being a strong rider and an even better writer, Mr. Krabbé may be best known as a chess champion, and his eye for tactics and detail shows -- to interesting thoughts about his own athletic career, about philosophy, fantasy, his competitors, and fascinating memories from cycling history.

The book is set in the 1970s, a time that will seem quaint to riders who have become interested in the sport only over the last few years: a period when riders made decisions about strategy rather than have it radioed into their ear pieces, when leather straps and not titanium clips held the shoes to the pedals, and when riders packed half an orange and a few figs in their pockets to fuel the ride rather than the latest scientific miracle mix.

I found it all exhilarating. As I leafed through my copy of the book earlier in order to double check a few facts before writing this review, I found myself happily re-reading some of the more compelling passages. While I was doing so, two (non-cyclist) friends stopped by and I read out loud to them Mr. Krabbé's dramatic account of Charley Gaul's stunning victory in the 1956 Giro d'Italia ... and they were unimpressed.

Which brings me to why I withheld one star from what I think is an excellent book: its appeal is far from universal. Unless you are a rider -- or at the very least, a serious fan of the sport or very close to someone who is a rider -- then I think it will be difficult to appreciate the discussions of the nervousness that accompanies a rapid descent from the mountains or the thought that goes into choosing the right gears.

But if you are a serious (or semi- or formerly-serious) rider, I can't imagine that you wouldn't be as thrilled by this book as I was.

If you do get a copy, my one piece of "strategic" advice would be to keep careful track of the names Mr. Krabbé mentions, famous and otherwise: to an English speaker's ear, many may sound quite similar. In addition to Mr. Krabbé himself we meet riders called Kléber, Koblet, Coppi, Caput, Kübler, and Clemons. And don't even get me started on the mouthful that many Dutch names represent to non-natives. Not that that sort of thing would be much of a stumbling block for anyone accustomed to the rigors of cycling.

I'm not a cyclist by any stretch of the imagination, and am only a moderate fan of the sport in general. But Krabbé's novella, originally published in the Netherlands 25 years ago, has got to best one of the best fictional treatments of any sport. The book follows an competitive amateur rider through a half-day, 150 kilometer race over the very real Mont Aigoual in France. Krabbé is himself an avid amateur cyclist, and his ability to capture both the mental and physical aspects of the sport is uncanny. Although I've never raced a bike, I did run cross-country competitively, and many of the elements carry over-mainly the twin battle each individual faces with their brain and their body (There's one excellent moment when the rider wills his bike to get a flat so he can withdraw with honor.).

The stripped-down prose style (common to all Krabbé's work), works especially well in the context of a race where the long distances can lead to almost a trance-like state. The mind wanders all over the place, and that is captured brilliantly in the rider's musings-for example, one part describes how he tries to invent words to keep himself amused during long, boring training rides. At the same time, the race itself is very tense, and Krabbé does quite well at describing the various tactical gambits employed along the way. The main competitors emerge as distinct figures-allies and foes in both a psychological and physical sense (I especially liked the unknown in the blue Cycles Goff jersey). Interwoven with it all are tidbits of cycling history, which are intermittently interesting to the non-racer.

It's not a reach to call this a masterpiece of sports literature. The story does a remarkable job at conveying the tension and flow of a race to the outsider. At the same time, the insights into the psychology of the athlete are so acute as to be universally recognizable across cultures and sports.

Tim Krabbe, from Holland, is a much beloved writer by his country men and women. His books "The Vanishing" and "The Cave" have become known world wide, and made into very successful movies. He started out in life knowing he had to be a winner. His first love was that of chess. He played chess, he wrote books on chess, he joined tournaments, and then he realized he would never be the winner he wanted to be. So, at the age of 29, he turned to bicycle racing.

Through out his life, Tim Krabbe,also realized he had to write. No matter what he was involved in, he had to write. In this book "De renner" or "The Rider', he has made literary history. The book was written in 1978 and has become a cult classic. This is a fascinating book, a half-day race, 150km, of the love of bicycle racing, and the love of relating the life of racing.

"It's a ride to the sun, and a ride to Zen-the definitive abc of sports, an encyclopedia, a literary masterpiece, an adventure novel and bicycling odyssey all rolled into one," one book critic wrote. Tim Krabbe tells of us his life as a cyclist all rolled up into a small book of 129 pages. The prose that rolls out of his mouth onto the paper of the book is memorable. This is a book that begs to be read again and again. He tells us of a fantasy of riding with bicycle's best and besting them all by winning the race. Throughout this half day race, we learn how to put the bicycle together and take it apart. We learn all about gears, and what to use, when. We learn what he eats before he starts the race, where to put his hands on the handle bars and how to choose the bicycle seat. The men he races with, the fans that turn out and scream encouragement for all of their favorites. The cafes, the bars,and the major developments of racing. And through out this race, instead of chapters the book is divided into kilometers of the race. We end at Kilometer 137, when he crosses the finish line. Was he the first, third, or tenth? Gotcha' you need to read this book, and you will love it.

This is not a book that is a metaphor for life. It is a book of the racing life and how this life takes over. I understand for the first time, how a racer's blood becomes attuned to the race, the speed, the climbs, the straights, the finish line, the Win!

"Whenever I hit absolute rock bottom I always think of those immortal words from De renner by Tim Krabbé-Batoowoo Creakcreak-and everything seems just fine again."

Maarten Ducrot, bicycle racer

Highly recommended. Prisrob "Batoowoo Creakcreak"

I think the appeal of this book is primarily the way the author has captured the thoughts and strategies that are zooming through the mind of the racing cyclist like a sprint for the finish line, as well as how his body is serving notice of the physical tortures due to the race. I've never participated in bicycle racing myself, but as an avid rider and fan of the races, I found this little book fascinating. One other thing that I loved about this book: being written in the '70s, before the age of wireless communications, "The Rider" shows how the professional cyclists were much more involved with the strategy of the race than they are today. With no little voice in his ear to tell him that the chase group is 2'00" behind and gaining quickly, it was a completely different game. I disagree with the reviewer that recommended "It's Not About the Bike" over this one. They are two completely different books and while I'm a huge LA fan, I preferred the drama of "The Rider" to the inspirational, but sometimes plodding LA bio.

This is easily the best novel I've read about bicycle racing--
it's relatively short, no murders, no love interest, just
bicycle racing pure and simple. It centers on a single minor
1-day race in southern France, 150 kilometers in the mountains,
and a racer (Krabbe) who is decent but not professional caliber.
The novel is part stream-of-thought, part flashbacks to Krabbe's
other 300+ races, part anecdotes about the great cyclists from
the Tour de France and elsewhere. If you want a baseball
analogy, Krabbe would be playing in the low minor leagues, and
describing the life there, and relating some tales about well-
known major-leaguers--kind of a Ron Shelton [Bull Durham] of
bicycle racing. In the Tour de France, the police keep the roads
clear for the racers: in the Tour de Mont Aigoual, police are
at intersections directing the racers, but you share the road
with ordinary drivers. Krabbe describes speeding down steep
mountain roads and having to plan in his mind what to do if a car
comes around the corner towards him while he's doing 60kph.
A very involving, finely-written book!

Cycling fanatics will find great pleasure in this literary cult classic. The author clearly knows what it's like to be a competitive cyclist, and he does an exceptional job of revealing what goes on inside the head of such a person. This book is as much about the athletic psyche as it is about a race. And that's what makes it so interesting. Anyone who has competed in any kind of race, especially a distance race, will be able to relate to the often bizarre, irrational thoughts that one's mind produces. Krabbe's anecdotes about inventing words in his head to keep himself amused during training rides, or telling himself repeatedly that his lowest climbing gear is clean as a whistle, are just two examples of the intimate psychological glimpses that readers will surely enjoy. I think the point of the story is that you have to be just a little bit crazy to be a professional cyclist, but at the same time, the cyclist's neuroses are completely human and natural.

More than twenty years ago Australian classics specialist Allan Peiper reported for Winning magazine his experience in racing the Tour of Flanders. His writing captured my imagination, drilling into my consciousness the essential core of the bike racing experience at the highest level. His article has stood for me, to this day, as the paradigm of race writing.

Yet what Peiper did in his race reports, Krabbe, I now learn, had done 10 years before in his fiction. The race he describes was June 26, 1977: "Tourists and locals are watching from sidewalk cafes. Non-racers. The emptiness of those lives shocks me." And so it begins. I was hooked.

In contrast to today, with so much attention paid to doping, so much emphasis on equipment, to the model of seeming effortless domination established by Indurain and perfected by Armstrong, the racing culture of 30 years ago, so well rendered by this book, offers an attraction which I could not resist. The focus is on the rider, his internal struggle against himself, his rivals, and the world around him. To not just resist suffering but to actively embrace it: "after the finish all the suffering turns to memories of pleasure, and the greater the suffering, the greater the pleasure. That is Nature's payback for the homage they pay her by suffering.... That's why there are riders. Suffering you need; literature is baloney."

Each bike race I have done is like an epic. How to capture one in words? Yet Krabbe has done so. Nobody who has raced can possibly read this book without feeling a deep resonance, a connection of understanding which goes beyond the text. The protagonist consumes figs instead of gels, struggles with his limited, relatively poorly shifting gears, and must mathematically deduce his speed from his perceived cadence and gear, but his essential being is the same. Bike racing is as it has always been, about confronting ourselves, beating back our fears, and finally, reflecting. Krabbe captures this to perfection.

The map and route profile from the race is available here:

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/Ronde-van-de-Mont-Aigoual

Best cycling novel ever (2nd best is Ralph Hurne's "The Yellow Jersey", despite flaws). 'Rider' is extremely engrossing. Can be read in one or two evenings. Cannot be put down. Evoked every emotion I've encountered while racing a bicycle.

A wonderfully evocative tale of a one-day bicycle race. I don't know if it will appeal to non-bike riders, but anyone who cycles with some regularity will get a glimpse of the real pain and strategy involved in bicycle racing. Note: The book was written in the 1970's, when racing bikes had 12 gears, unlike today's 20, and there was no radio communication between riders and/or team managers. Those elements added a need for planning and strategy that have been lost to some extent in today's world. Back then, when a rider broke away, for example, the riders following would have had no idea what kind of lead had been extended. Today, they'd know exactly how far away the leader was. There's one oddity in the book that I believe is the fault of the translator. Krabbe writes about having to change tires; they are referred to as "tubes" when the proper term should be "tubulars", a type of tire preferred by bicycle racers. That has no bearing on the story or the reader's enjoyment. This is a can't put it down race through the pages charmer.