In a renovated Gothic church on Long Island lives Jonathan Hemlock, an art professor and a world-renowned mountain climber who finances his black-market art collection by working as a freelance assassin. Now, Hemlock is being tricked into a hazardous assignment that involves an attempt to scale one of the most treacherous mountain peaks in the Swiss Alps: the Eiger. His target is one of his three fellow climbers. The problem is that the CII can't tell him which one.
This spine-tingling adventure, part thriller and part satire, introduces an intriguing cast of villains, traitors, and beautiful women into a highly charged atmosphere of danger and suspicion that builds to a death-defying climax.
Rodney William Whitaker was an American film scholar and writer who wrote several novels under the pen name Trevanian. Whitaker wrote in a wide variety of genres, achieved bestseller status, and published under several other names, as well, including Nicholas Seare, Beñat Le Cagot, and Edoard Moran. He published the nonfiction book The Language of Film under his own name. Between 1972 and 1983, five of his novels sold more than a million copies each. He was described as "the only writer of airport paperbacks to be compared to Émile Zola, Ian Fleming, Edgar Allan Poe, and Geoffrey Chaucer." Whitaker adamantly avoided publicity for most of his life, his real name a closely held secret for many years. The 1980 reference book Twentieth-Century Crime and Mystery Writers listed his real name in its Trevanian entry.
"Niceness is an overrated quality. Being nice is how a man pays his way into the party if he hasn't the guts to be tough or the class to be brilliant."
Jonathan Hemlock teaches art at a university, but the modest sum he makes teaching doesn't cover his extravagant habits. He is renovating a Gothic church on Long Island, expensive real estate as we all know, and the upgrades involve only the very best in Italian marbles and rare woods. Jonathan is building a shrine to his self-image. He has a collection of twenty-one rare masterpiece Impressionists paintings. Monet, Cezanne, Utrillo, Van Gogh, Manet, Seurat, Degas, Renoir, and Cassatt are tucked away in a special room below his church. Like any collector he is never satisfied and when a Pissarro comes available he is willing to do what he has to do to buy it.
Some people might pick up a second job doing security work, or working in a restaurant or with Hemlock's background maybe he could write an extra paper for publication. The problem is nothing pays well enough to meet the asking price for the Pissarro except for something the military found out he was perfectly mentally and physically predisposed to do...assassination. When he is in need he gets in touch with the C2 organization. Hemlock, in particular, is used to revenge spies who have been killed in the line of duty. The head of this organization is an albino, going by the name of Dragon. He keeps his office in near complete darkness as any light is detrimental to his already shaky health. The negotiations are ruthless between Hemlock and Dragon, one trying to get as much money as he can from each job and the other trying to make sure he never pays him enough that he quits being an asset.
Hemlock drinks Laphroaig Scotch Whisky.
Hemlock seduces beautiful women, because not only are they making themselves available to him, but they are desirable to collect. My favorite name for a woman in film and literature is still Pussy Galore, (when I first saw Goldfinder I can remember LOL, when she is introduced, nervously.)
Honor Blackman playing Pussy Galore
but Trevanian takes a stab at suggestive names as well. Felicity Arce, yes pronounced the way you think, and Randie Nickers to name a couple. After his encounter with Miss Arce, he had helped her enjoyment by suggesting she press down with her feet, Jonathan reflects on the results of the evening. "In the hall, as he waited for the elevator, he felt pleased about the evening. It had been simple, uncomplicated, and temporarily satisfying: like urination. And that was the way he preferred his lovemaking to be."
That is until he meets Gem.
Vonette McGee plays Gem in the movie
She is smart. She is witty. She is beautiful and sexy and she seems to understand him. For the first time in his life he is starting to experience something more than physical relief with a woman.
She betrays him.
Her actions ensnare him further under the control of Dragon. He has to take one final job that may very well kill him. Jonathan used to be an avid climber, but it has been years since he has done any serious climbing. When C2 manages to get him on the team climbing the Eiger, so that he can determine which of his fellow climbers is the target, he has to reunite with his old friend Big Ben to get himself back into climbing shape. As an added point of stress Hemlock had tried to scale the Eiger twice before, much younger, and had failed.
While training Hemlock runs into his old friend Miles Mellough, the man who betrayed his best friend Henri. "Tall, brilliant in his physical trim, he pulled off his epic homosexuality with such style that plebeian men did not recognize it, and worldly men did not mind it. As always, girls were attracted to him in gaggles, and he treated them with the amusing condescension of a glamorous Parisian aunt visiting relatives in Nebraska. Needless to say Miles knows that Jonathan is not going to let bygones be bygones and thus begins a struggle to see who can gain the upper hand long enough to live.
Eiger Mountain
The scenes in Switzerland are supposed to be amazing in the movie. I haven't seen the movie, but intend to watch it this week. I can tell you the last 50 pages with the characters on the mountain, hit by a Foehn that melts and refreezes the mountain slope, had me on the edge of my seat. Mental games are put aside and it takes all of them working together to have a chance to survive.
This book was a guilty pleasure, an early working of what by many is considered his best book Shibumi with a similar character living outside the normal perimeters of society with a shady sense of morality. Trevanian definitely evolves his dialogue, adding more humor, in his later books. I liked the book, but it is most assuredly a "male" adventure story. To enjoy the book you must read it with the idea that it is a relic of the 1970s and to my mind written with a certain degree of tongue and cheek.
Devilishly hilarious. Imagine a Bond film narrated by Bill Maher.
Some reviewers have described Trevanian’s 1972 novel as blending elements of adventure and satire, others have stated that this is an action adventure with some humor. I am going to the other end of the spectrum and say that this is delicious satire that also includes some good adventure writing. This is not the absurd spoof a fan of Austin Powers or Inspector Clouseau would be looking for – but not far off either.
Truth be known, the humor is for the most part in the writing – Trevanian’s wit is unmistakable, although perhaps somehow this has been lost on some readers. His clever talent for names is Dickensian. We meet Jonathan Hemlock, Yurasis Dragon, Jemima Brown, Clement Pope and the cream of the crop – no doubt inspired by Bond girl Pussy Galore - Felicity Arce (pronounced Arse).
Further, Trevanian possesses a sharp, observant intelligence and his wry comments, dry humor, and laugh out loud sense of understated irony is extraordinary. His relentless and erudite monster truck verbal assault on government ineptitude, especially the CIA, was funny as hell.
I have not seen the 1975 Clint Eastwood film, but if the production leaves out the satire – then the audience has lost the better half of Trevanian’s work.
Dr. Jonathan Hemlock, the protagonist, is an art professor and mountaineer; who has a side job as an assassin. He needs money for a rare painting and so takes a job as a counter – assassin and agrees to carry out "sanctions" (contract assassinations targeted specifically against killers of American agents). The task leads him to the Alps where Trevanian leads us on some unexpected twists and turns that are also quietly uproarious.
All joking aside, and there are many laugh out loud scenes; Trevanian’s action writing is top shelf, especially the inspired mountain climbing sections that briefly made me forget the droll satire.
Fans of his 1979 novel Shibumi will also enjoy this earlier work.
Extraña novela. Al principio, parece una novela barata de espías. Te ríes mucho con todo ya que los personajes están llevados hasta el histrionismo: un espía incompetente; un jefe del tinglado albino con una secretaria devota y un ayudante con unas capacidades muy limitadas; un alpinista fanfarrón; una amante negra y un protagonista superdotado para según qué cosas, apuesto y sin conciencia para el asesinato. Pero, a medida que se va desarrollando la trama, los personajes van cogiendo cuerpo y profundidad psicológica y se consigue una auténtica novela de espías muy estimulante y entretenida, de esas que ansías seguir leyendo. Se acusa a esta novela de misógina. Yo, la verdad, es que lo interpreto como una parte de la exageración de todo. Se podría decir que es misógina, racista, chovinista, irreverente con lo no americano, pero se plasma a las mujeres con mucha profundidad, hay una historia de amor muy bonita entre una negra y un blanco (que se queda a medias), y un aprecio por las cualidades de escaladores de otros países. Para gustos, culos, se dice ahora. Está bien narrada ya que no es fácil describir todo el ambiente alpino. Hay que saber de lo que se habla para describirlo tan bien. Sinceramente, a mi me ha gustado mucho. Si alguien quiere sentir el frío intenso en estos días de calor sofocante y aprender algo del Eiger, esta es la mejor forma. Lean a Trevanian.
Strange novel. At first, it looks like a cheap spy novel. You laugh a lot with everything since the characters are histrionics: an incompetent spy; an albino head of the shed with a devoted secretary and an assistant with very limited capabilities; a boastful mountaineer; a black lover and a highly gifted protagonist according to what things, handsome and without conscience for murder. But, as the plot unfolds, the characters get psychological depth and a truly stimulating and entertaining spy novel is achieved, one of those that you long to continue reading. This novel is accused of misogynism. I, really, interpret it as a part of the exaggeration of everything. It could be said that it is misogynistic, racist, chauvinistic, irreverent with the non-American, but women are deeply expressed, there is a very beautiful love story between a black woman and a white man (non concluded), and an appreciation for the qualities of climbers from other countries. A lot of opinions about it. It is well narrated since it is not easy to describe the entire alpine environment. You have to know what is being said to describe it so well. Honestly, I really liked it. If someone wants to feel the intense cold on these sweltering days and learn something about the Eiger, this is the best way. Read Trevanian.
Many readers and reviewers swallow this book whole without realizing it is a satirical spoof on spy novels and movies of the 1960s, James Bond and the like. Should there be any doubt, examine the silly character names: Randy Nickers and Cherry Pitt, for example. He attacks the CIA by naming the book's bloated intelligence service as CII. There's the over-the-top macho sexuality, most of the characters (gay and straight) have daily one night stands. The leader of the assassin organization is an eerie, physically infirm albino, who in reality would be unable to lead anything of the sort. The hero/assassin, Jonathan Hemlock, is a college professor, historian, world-class mountaineer, and self-aggrandizing art collector who lives in a Gothic church. How does one make a ruthless assassin out of a character type that would or could never exist in reality? You can't, except through exaggeration and satire. The book is very funny when read correctly.
The humor is enhanced by the shocking pink dust jacket of the 1972 first edition of the book (see it here: The Eiger Sanction.) It's too bad that cover was never used on later editions and printings because it visually nails the spoof up high. No sane author or profit-minded publisher would advertise a serious spy novel with "effeminate" pink, not even in the disco-steeped year of 1972. It screams "joke" to the interested buyer.
Add to this the high literary tone throughout, almost elitist, not targeted to the average airport thriller reader, and you can appreciate Trevanian's playfulness. Ironically, most American professional reviewers of the time read it literally. It seems only those in Europe realized what it actually was. No further comment from me on that.
Given the satirical purpose of the book, what was surprising to me were the realistic technical climbing scenes, using accurate (for the 1960s) techniques, such as where and how pitons should be placed, and correct rope management and belaying. Trevanian knows the minds of climbers, their psychology, the various moods they have the night before a big climb, and then on the dark rock and ice beginning well before dawn the next morning. His accurate descriptions of the extreme mixed Alpine climbing found on the Eigerwand are only excelled by the published reports from real expeditions—Heinrich Harrer's classic The White Spider, and Jon Krakauer's Eiger Dreams: Ventures Among Men and Mountains come to mind.
There is also a preparatory multi-pitch first-ascent climb of a sandstone tower in the American Desert Southwest. Just like Trevanian's climber, I've left plenty of skin and blood tracks behind, jamming my hands in cracks, and frictioning up over ledges, knees and hands scraped bare by the "sandpaper" rock found there. Readers who aren't climbers can be assured of getting a substantial taste of what climbing is all about. Witness this sentence, where the psychology of the rope that only a real climber would likely know, is precisely expressed in Trevanian's language: "The rope connecting two men on a mountain is more than nylon protection; it is an organic thing that transmits subtle messages of intent and disposition from man to man; it is an extension of the tactile senses, a psychological bond, a wire along which currents of communication flow."
I saw the movie years ago, but I don't remember enough to compare it to the book. Who cares, reading is better anyway.
Clint Eastwood directs and stars in this thriller movie from the 1970s.He plays a retired assassin who works for a government agency.He is asked to do two more sanctions (killings),which are officially approved.
It isn't all that great a story,but it was filmed on the Eiger Mountain in Switzerland and in Monument Valley in the US.
The climbing footage is quite spectacular and makes the film worth watching. (3 stars).
Despite the fact that Clint Eastwood, obviously enamored with this tale, produced, directed and starred in the movie version, and despite the fact that he reproduced the plot perfectly, he could not capture the essence of the book. No fault of Eastwood's, because making a film adaptation of this novel is more difficult than the ascent of the Eiger described towards the end of the book.
If you have read the reviews here on GR, you will find that I have nothing to say that perceptive readers have not noted already, but because I enjoyed the uniqueness of this book so much, I have to say something, even at the risk of looking like a parroting copycat.
The genius of the book is that it's like a picture with two perspectives, like that famous picture of the vase separating 2 faces, or those billboards with different images depending on the angle of view. The Eiger Sanction has two aspects, the dominant one is a spoof of spy novels, the author's real intention in writing it, and the spy adventure novel itself that Trevanian is mocking, the latter solely due to the author's craftsmanship of the English language, i.e. it reads like a spy adventure novel. But with names like Yurassis Dragon, Randie Nickers, Felicity Arce (pronounced arse, British for ass), and a black woman named Jemima, you have to ask yourself, is this serious? Not to mention the fact that the head of the spy organization is an albino confined to an environmentally controlled dark room.
But then there are the mountain climbing scenes that take your breath away, told with such acumen and insight that you are convinced that the author is a real mountain climber.
I believe Trevanian is one of the most underrated authors who ever wrote fiction in the English language. All his stuff is great.
Two things work well in this novel: the opening chapter, featuring a haplessly mediocre spy being eliminated, is very funny and delightfully written, and the penultimate sequence in which three men climb the Eigerwand is harrowing and suspenseful. Everything else is terrible.
The main flaw is the horrendous misogyny. You could argue this is part of the satire, or parody; clearly Trevanian is mocking the James Bond-style romp in which nearly every woman’s name is a homonym for something sexual (or just dirty) and the suave spy can get anyone into bed. So we have the characters Randy Nickers, the virginal Cherry Pitt, and Anna Bidet (pronounced on-a). The spymaster is named Yurasis Dragon (your ass is draggin’?). His ugly receptionist is Mrs. Cerberus. The black stewardess the protagonist falls in love with is Jemima Brown (she and the protagonist have a meta discussion of how idiotic her name is). There’s also a little dog named Faggot, owned by a gay man. But the parodic tone is dropped completely when the mountain-climbing scene happens; it feels like a complete switch of gears (and a much better book).
Ten-dollar words are awkwardly sprinkled throughout: abacination, lepidote, ambuscade, ranine.
The plot entails Dr. Jonathan Hemlock, an art professor who lives in a converted gothic church on Long Island and keeps a basement full of stolen Impressionist masterpieces, who has a side job as spy to earn the money to buy more art and pay the mortgage on his house. His current task is to assassinate (sanction) the killers of an agent who was murdered in the book’s opening scene. He dispatches the first one quickly, but the second assassin remains anonymous. He is told only that the man has a limp and he will be climbing the Eiger. Jonathan happens to be an ace mountaineer so he brushes up on his skills and joins the climbing team. He expects to be given the identity of the assassin before the climb starts, but he murders the only man who knows (the owner of Faggot). So he climbs not knowing whom to trust.
“Wormwood’s step was crisp along the emptying street. He felt uplifted by a sense – not of greatness, to be sure – but of adequacy.” (The promise of this writing, which makes you think of Waugh or le Carré, dissipates once the first chapter ends.) Wormwood’s sense of adequacy is misplaced, because “the men at home base were already referring to him as the “one-man Bay of Pigs.””
There was such an avalanche of crudeness that I didn’t even bother to document half of it.
Jonathan was raised by a foster parent, a spinster with a “sandpaper crotch.” He knows this because she begins to sexually abuse him.
“…there were only two kinds of women with whom he had never had experience: Australian Abos and Eskimos. And neither of these ethnic gaps was he eager to fill, for reasons of olfactory sensitivity.”
“Am I your first black?” asks Jemima Brown after they have sex.
“He had begun to enjoy the game of estimating the ballistic competence of the various young ladies around the pool…”
“…her wide-cheekboned, oriental face.” “Her eyes too had a Mongol cast…” “…[her] eyes locked on his, expressionless in their Oriental mold…”
“As he showered, he promised himself to use the girl sparingly.”
“In the back of my mind I may be carrying the image of impaling her – stabbing her to death, or something.”
“He was eager to use her as sexual aspirin…”
“She’s on my payroll, and she’s got to do more to earn her keep than just be a spittoon for your sperm.” (At the end of the novel we find out that the girl under discussion is the daughter of the man whose payroll she’s on.)
“It used to be said that British women’s shoes were made by excellent craftsmen who had had shoes carefully described to them, but who had never actually seen a pair firsthand. They were, however, comfortable, and they wore well. And those were also the principal virtues of the women who wore them.”
“But the mountain retained its hymen.”
“I’m yours to do with, man. You could kiss me, or press my hand, or make love to me, or marry me, or talk to me, or hit me,” says Jemima Brown to Jonathan.
So strange that a book that was written partly as satire got taken so seriously. Lots of of over the top characters and scenes, but greatly entertaining.
Some people thought Trevanian was Robert Ludlum writing under a pen name, but he wasn't. Eiger was Rodney Whitaker's first book under the pen name. He wrote several others including The Loo Sanction and Shibumi.
His creative process was fascinating since he wrote across a variety of genres. I find it interesting because I've hit bestseller lists in a number of genres and have to literally adjust my thinking when doing that; for example going from tongue-in-cheek romantics suspense to hardcore Special Operations suspense. What Trevanian did was pretend he was an actor and assume the role of the type of author needed to write a certain book.
I first read this sometime in the late 70s or early 80s after seeing the movie (1975) starring Clint Eastwood & George Kennedy. Both were perfectly cast & the movie followed the book very well. There's a little difference in the ending, but the same revelation was done well in both. It was more a matter of time & media. No complaints.
As an audio book, this rocked. Joe Barrett perfectly captured the rhythm & style of the book. It's a little bit 70s & Trevanian loves to sneer at everything, but he does so in a way that's usually amusing. For instance, he constantly pokes fun at the CII (a thinly disguised CIA) ...but there was no unraveling the serpentine patterns of check and double check, of distrust and redundancy that substituted for security in CII...
He doesn't stop there, but peoples those watching the climb with well known figures who are never named but described well enough that they're obvious & never seen as anything but objects of derision. I suppose some will have an issue with some things which are now in the realm of political correctness. For instance, there is a gay guy who has a dog named Faggot, possibly because he likes to hump people's feet & legs.
The motivations were all very well done & the characters well drawn. He paid loving attention to all the details of mountain climbing & most other things, although he did have Hemlock click the safety off a revolver with a silencer. Sigh. Ignore the guns.
The mystery was a good one, too. Even knowing what was going to happen did nothing to dim my enjoyment of the story. Highly recommended both as a book & a movie.
The Eiger Sanction is an early 70s thriller which tries to chase some of that James Bond money. Although there are some entertaining parts and a germ of a good story, it really is dated, poorly written, and kinda racist and misogynistic.
The most unforgettable sins in the story are the women, a black woman who is named “Jemina Brown”, and American Indian woman named George who is so silent she doesn’t even say “Ugh”, and a British woman named “Randie Nickers.”
I kid you not. Five named women in the book and the three he sleeps with all have “joke” names.
Despite this rather deplorable state of affairs, there are some good bits, like where thinly-veiled unnamed characters representing Onassis, Jackie O, Richard Burton, and Elizabeth Taylor are used for satiric/comedic effect.
And the mystery plot is actually not that terrible.
Despite that, just a terribly outdated mess. One star and the title “best worst book of the year.”
To be honest I have seen the movie three or four times and mostly because of Clint Eastwood. I did expect the movie to be different from the book as most movies tend to be, so I was kind of surprised that this was not the case. The Eastwood movie is rather faithfull to the novel. That is perhaps the reason I kept seeing Eastwoods face when I read the novel. The book like the movie is not one in the vein of the 007 movie series albeit that some aspects like the "M" in this book wher quite Flemingesque in his appearence. That said it is a straight spy/assassin book from the '70's which can be by some readers argued as not up to the standards of the modern spy novel with all the technology that is around. Well this is a book that has a main character that is not so dependend on Gadgets hence his assignment to kill a possible foreign agent during a climb on the Eiger mountain in the Alps. I do prefer the characters as they are written to the modern spy novels which are more scary as they seem to be able to spit on your freedoms with all the stuff they know and can find out about you. This book is more about those skilled men/women who operated in the shadows to make the world a "safer" place.
A real male thriller.
I do now want to read the Loo-sanction as the title amuses me and I would not mind to read one more Hemlock story.
Fun! Trevanian manages to be both vulgar and erudite. His story drips with satire of the spy genre, but also delivers a great spy/assassination tale. It’s a delightful paradox. I think the best thing is that Trevanian has a huge store of knowledge about really diverse subjects (mountain climbing, literature, art, wine, etc.), but is also able to enjoy the more trite bits of the genre. Jemima Brown? Really. Randie Nickers? Yes, really. Yurasis Dragon. Of course. Trevanian’s double-visioned ability to laugh at and still enjoy the inanities of 1960s and 70s culture and the James Bond films in particular is unparalleled. And, oh, is he rough on the Swiss—who knew they could be such delightful targets for abuse? I don’t know how this will read for the next generation who won’t have first-hand memories of how the 70s were for women and minorities. I suppose, if they watch a lot of James Bond and blaxploitation films, they’ll get it. I really hope they don’t write him off as a dinosaur simply because they lack the context in which to appreciate Trevanian’s wit.
One of the treasures on my parents' bookshelf, when YA got boring. Loved it and read it several times as a teenager. I loved the Clint Eastwood movie as well. I'm actually not sure what came first for me, book or movie...
Very likeable main character, although he's an assassin. Well done and suspenseful climbing scenes and climax. Maybe it's time for a re-read...
I loved the first 20% or so of this book, a wicked satire of the James Bond oeuvre, and then it just got tremendously dull, a joke that went on much too long. I’m giving it up at the 33% mark.
I saw the movie long before I knew it was a book and seeing it on the shelf I decided to read it, and a few chapters in I wish I had left it to collect dust on the shelf. This was written around the time James Bond was at the height of popularity and I'm guessing this was supposed to ride it's coat tails. However the author is misogynistic, extremely sexist when he has anything decent (not being used as a sex toy at the moment) to say about women, racist to the point I want to skip any part where the main character has any interaction with non-whites or non-Americans so I can avoid cringing. The main guy has every woman on the planet throwing themselves at him, in the case of his virginal neighbor Cherry Pitt literally...give me a break!
The satire/parody or whatever this is supposed to be is cringe worthy not funny and any attempt at a joke made falls flat. The characters are all one dimensional, shallow stereotypes and not real or relate-able in any way at all. I despised the main character, a bona fide genius who is handsome and who can do almost anything. He is so fill of himself it's amazing his head isn't the size of a bolder to go with his ego.
Trevanian (aka Rodney Whitaker) wrote the Eiger Sanction, which became a million-volume seller in the 1970’s and was followed by a major motion picture, as a spoof on the super-spy action genre which was very popular in the late 60’s/early 70’s. Although Eiger Sanction has many things in common with Trevanian’s later masterwork Shibumi such as the super-spy trained in martial arts, the secret government-controlled hit squads, and the mountain climbing, the two novels are very different with Shibumi being a more serious work containing various themes contrasting Eastern and Western ideas and an epic-length history of the main character. Eiger Sanction is a much earlier work and more of a Bond-spoof than anything else. In fact, it appears that Trevanian was shocked that so few people recognized Eiger Sanction as a spoof and so many took it seriously. The oddities of the book included a super-spy who didn’t want to work for the CII (a spoof on the CIA) and preferred to collect art and teach college-level art history classes, but lived in a vast compound with an underground art storage facility, that he would be sent out to kill an unknown target and that he would encounter the target in a high-grade mountain climb in Switzerland (the Eiger), and that he would engage in a grudge match with another former agent in a posh mountain climbing training facility while preparing for his not- so-secret expedition. Of course, he is invincible in a fight and irrestible to the ladies. This is an enjoyable read as long as you don’t take it the espionage stuff too seriously. The long treacherous climb up the Eiger is perhaps the apex of this novel and it is worth reading even just for that amazing thrilling step by step climb.
Trevanian's stories of suspense fell somewhere between the adventurous romantic thrillers of Fleming and the dark, grimy reality of le Carre. While Trev. has his own following, I find Fleming to be more engrossingly entertaining and le Carre to be more disturbingly down-to-earth. Eiger Sanction I also don't think aged as well much of the works of the other two authors. While the basic plot is good, and well written, the sexuality of the book seems very forced and artificial, even a bit backwards for the time it was written. It is as if the author had a good idea but was compelled by his editors to add more sex to up the sales numbers. Also, the characters seem very unnatural and 2-dimensional, if that. However, there are a lot of exciting, tense scenes that more than make up for the goofy parts leaving me with still recommending the book if you are in search of a 60's-70's style espionage book and have read all the Smiley and Bond you can find. Certainly he did his research when it came to how to scale a mountain.
Take an arts-history prof/secret weekend assassin, add some ridiculously named randy ladies, tough men and some mountain climbing and you have the Eiger Sanction.
Oh, what to say about this one.....adventure, sex, mystery, art, snobbery, and who-dun-it, sort of. Jonathan Hemlock is an art history professor, contraband painting collector, and (dun, dun, dun) a cold-blooded assassin on the side. No kidding. And if that doesn't sound ridiculous, he always gets the ladies. But he's looking to get out of the assassin business so he can ponder his illegally obtained paintings. Of course, there is one perilous last job he must do. For this job, he must mountain climb.
This book is ridiculous. It is also really sexist. The ladies are fairly dumb and weak, even when they seem smart and strong. This is a good read for someone who wants some adventurous sexy crap to sink into. (And there's nothing wrong with that.)
To be fair, I Did Not Finish this book. In fact, I didn't even get to my 100 page litmus test. There are just too many books on my shelf deserving more attention.
Let's start with the fact that the author, Travanian, pen name of Rodney William Whittaker, tried to create his identity as an enigma and eschewed publicity. I can't help but feel like he wrote this book the way he felt about himself. Both smarter than everyone else and a parody.
The writing is full of self assured male dominated sex scenes, obvious double entendre names, lots of "hey, pal" and "look, bud" 70's cliche. By page 40 I'd begun skimming, saw much of the same many pages on, and decided the denouement on the face of Eiger wasn't worth the investment.
Hardly a seminal work, in this case I think the mystique surrounding The Eiger Sanction comes from the Eastwood movie. For once, I think I'll watch the movie first.
I get that the book is probably intended to be a parody or satire (please, please, let it be parody) but it never actually seems to make a point - it ranges from dislikable to just plain crass. It went from bad, to worse, to hilarious, to hysterical, to soul destroying turgidness and oh God I can't believe I bought two of these from the charity shop, I really don't think I can bring myself to read another. Or leave it on my tsundoku pile to be forgetfully deceived into picking it up in the course of time. Back to the charity shop it is.
Although now I feel guilty about inflicting the pair of them on someone else. Poor, unsuspecting soul.
Neresinden başlasam bilemiyorum... Gerilimi iliklerinize kadar hissettiğiniz, heyecan dozu yüksek harika bir dağcılık kitabı diye toparlanabilir aslında. Olay, bir üniversite profesörü, koleksiyoncu ve mükemmel bir dağcı olmanın yanı sıra profesyonel suikastçı olan Jonathan Hemlock'un çok istediği bir tablo için bir 'onaylama' görevi almasıyla başlıyor. İlk başta klasik bir aksiyon gibi görünse de olaylar beklenildiği gibi gitmiyor. Geçmişten gelen ve kapanmayan davalardan, birbirini tanımayan 4 adamın ve insanın doğanın gücü altında ne kadar ezilebileceğini anlatan bir tırmanışa dönüşüyor atmosfer. Belirtmeden geçemeyeceğim Jonathan Hemlock, Şubimi'nin ana karakteri Nicholai Hel'in bir taslağı. Vee kitaptaki bütün 'her şey'lerin 'herşey' olarak yazılması, İngilizce'de sıkça kullanılan 'oh' ünleminin Türkçe baskısında bulunması okurken sinirimi bozan detaylar oldu.
i'd seen the clint eastwood movie years ago. television. description on the back says "part thriller and part satire" but for me any satire musta went over my head.
this guy lives in a renovated catholic church, new york, art collector, assassinates people upon request. sanctions them not to put too fine a point on it.
he gets the call, but he's semi-retired and needs to get in shape. does so. the eiger is a mountain.
trevanian trots around the globe w/his fiction. where hasn't he been? entertaining suspenseful read. while you're trying to figure out who did what (in a good way) things are being done. yeah, okay, now i remember the satire. people watch.
#1 in the Jonathan Hemlock series. A thriller on the slopes of the Swiss Alps. Made into a 1975 film starring Clint Eastwood and George Kennedy.
Jonathan Hemlock - In a renovated Gothic church on Long Island lives Jonathan Hemlock, an art professor and a world-renowned mountain climber who finances his black-market art collection by working as a freelance assassin.Now, Hemlock is being tricked into a hazardous assignment that involves an attempt to scale one of the most treacherous mountain peaks in the Swiss Alps: the Eiger. His target is one of his three fellow climbers. The problem is that the CII can t tell him which one.
I read this book ages ago with other Trevanian books. They were great reads. My favorite was "Shibumi". Eiger Sanction's side plot is about climbing mountains, Shibumi's is about defending into caves.
I must have read this first in the 80s, when we were desperately looking for fast-paced espionage thrillers. I loved it then and gave it to many, many readers. I liked it less on re-reading (though I do love narrator Joe Barrett). More early James Bond with silly women and sexual conquests, but he is an interesting character--art historian, professor, mountain climbing expert, and paid assassin and. I did appreciate all the climbing action and lore--something I can appreciate vicariously. And Trevanian has a great deal of fun with the names, so worth a look for that. Violent, dramatic, and excellent twist at the end.
Time has not been kind to this 70s espionage satire. The satire is occasionally clever, but more commonly amounts to just crude misogynistic and racist jokes that one may have heard from a long lost estranged grand parent. Not worth reading.
It is rather unremarkable a fact now that James Bond has nudged along people’s thoughts as to what would make an intelligence operative. Flashy cars, globe-trotting, bedding women all seemed to me to be the epitome of being a secret agent. But two things happened eventually : one was the realization that I am not Brosnan (not even in the wildest imagination was this an even a remote approximation !) and two were the other books and movies. I will forego my (ahem !) comparison with Bond and look at the counter-Bond events that I encountered. Authors like Len Deighton and John Le Carre, movies like Johnny English and TV series like Archer are all so much more exciting than 007 ever will be and then along came Jonathan Hemlock and CII. Trevanian creates a hilarious espionage thriller which blends multiple genres in a brilliant fashion.
The genius of this book lies in its tongue-in-cheek humor and the jokes it pulls at the expense of the CIA. The CII as an espionage agency is a very lightly veiled version of the CIA which Trevanian says was built to house the multitude of governmental agencies which were lying unused post the great war. The agency is an apotheosis of bureaucratic inefficiency and hidden in its labyrinthine maze is a covert group of assassins who get paid (albeit grudgingly) for services rendered. Jonathan Hemlock is a covert assassin whose alter ego is that of an art professor. Hemlock is a remorseless assassin, a serial womanizer, a dare devil and…and…well you know which character it reminds you of doesn’t it ? The names of his women consorts are a riot. Can you imagine going to bed with a woman named Felicity Arse ? Or Anna Bidet ? Or Randie Nickers ? Well, so much for Pussy Galore ! Trevanian however does not treat Hemlock seriously, he lets the reader know time and again that the whole thing is a farce and that spies and assassins in fiction have too much of an opinion about themselves. They are also highly prejudiced when it comes to people, places, nationalities and almost everything under the sun. In short most of the characters have their heads stuck up their unmentionables and they are unbearably full of themselves but the author seems to be at our side laughing at the follies of them all. 75% of the book is verbal acrobatics and hilarious ripostes from one character to the next and all of which is highly enjoyable. The other 25% is the actual Eiger sanction where four men pit themselves against a merciless mountain and the elements. When it comes to man against nature, Trevanian really excels himself as has been the case with Shibumi. This final few chapters are a real cliffhanger and all levity of the earlier part disappears to be replaced by nerve-wracking suspense.
Enjoyable and totally hilarious but don’t make the mistake of taking the story seriously !
"Dr. Jonathan Hemlock, Professor of Art, spun out his closing lecture to the mass class in Art and Society - a course he abhorred to teach, but one which was the bread and butter of his department. His lecture style was broadly ironic, even insulting, but he was vastly popular with the students, each of whom imagined his neighbor was writhing under Dr. Hemlock's superior disdain. They interpreted his cold acidity as an attractive bitterness in the face of the unfeeling bourgeois world, an epitome of that Weltschmerz so precious to the melodramatic soul of the undergraduate.
[...] ...Hemlock entered his office, humming to himself. He liked the way he had done that. But his euphoria was transient. On his desk he found notes he had written to himself, reminders of bills soon due and past due. University rumors of private wealth were baseless; the truth was that Hemlock spent each year a little more than three times his income from teaching, books, and commissions for appraisal and evaluation. Most of his money - about forty thousand a year - he earned by moonlighting. Jonathan Hemlock worked for the Search and Sanction Division of CII. He was an assassin."