Twenty-One Nights in July Ianto Ware Twenty-one classic stages from the history of the Tour de France.
Twenty-one simple truths gleaned from the greatest bicycle race in the world.
From Fausto Coppi’s victory on Alpe d'Huez, to Jacques Anquetil and Raymond Poulidor’s epic battle on the Puy de Dôme, from René Vietto’s shameless weeping, to Greg LeMond soiling himself in his struggle with Bernard Hinault.
From the Italian whose victory prevented a revolution, to the British champion whose dying words were ‘put me back on my bike', and the convicted doper who declared ‘I’m sorry you don’t believe in miracles'.
Part love letter to the humble bicycle, part history of the Tour de France, Twenty-One Nights in July reveals how cycling transcended mere sport to become a philosophy for the modern age.
I borrowed this from my boyfriend who has recently started riding everywhere and I read it while my beautiful but clunky, heavy steel frame bike sat sadly outside, alone and cold. Then, while lapping up the musings on 20-something privileged whining which I relate too completely, I had an epiphany. About bikes and life and Tom Simpson, and now I'm determined to sell my clunky bike, get a speedy road one and ride no matter. I even bought gloves in preparation.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It seemed to find a good balance between the personal, the historical, the metaphoric and the technical. Ware puts enough of himself into the book to draw those links to these telling moments and how they might reflect times in the world without being highfalutin. He also manages to slide in the word "slake" into a story, one of my favourite underused words. I dabble in cycling but more sort of geek out on the history, that sense of endurance and testing of human will and it seems at times - ethics.
The Tour de France is always the exception for people like me - I don't really like sport, especially watching it, and I absolutely loathe the Australian cultural need to absolutely shove sport (certain sports) down everybody's throat.
And yet, I have a warm relationship with the Tour de France - my grandfather had been a cyclist, but of the older era when it was a sport that grew out of necessary transport and men who had day jobs. Ianto Ware uses his extensive knowledge of cultural theory to articulate the many ways in which the Tour is unlike other sports and the ways in which the event and its participants have become mythic. He even explains the Lance Armstrong and doping in a context where many have simply written the sport off as lost altogether, Ware argues that even if it had not been for the doping, the ethos of the winning being the be all, end all was counter to the spirit of the event.
I had tried to read Walsh's book about the Armstrong Tour de France era ("Seven Deadly Sins") but where I found Walsh simply said cycling was meaningful, Ware actually demonstrates and explains why. (And I had no idea Barthes wrote about the Tour.)
The aspect of this book I really warmed to was that it was an Australian looking in, which is my own perspective - in fact, Ware grew up around the place I went to university (and knew what he meant when discussing tackling Norton Summit road!) I remember watching the Tour in the 90s and loving the brutal honesty of Henk Vogels saying how "stuffed" he was after each stage, standing out amongst the fresh daisies of the European riders.
The book certainly made me nostalgic for the older eras of the Tour, when sports journalism actually meant more than simply standing in front of a camera and slurring words - when the action of chases and rivalries were told through the skills of writers, and it was about giants who became heroes through their failures as much as through their placings.
I thoroughly recommend this book to the non-sporting types like myself - because, as Armstrong said, "It's not about the bike."
This book is pure genius, whose genius is built upon two oddly symbiotic foundations. Ware makes insightful, metaphysical discoveries about cycling, and the role cycling has for professionals and amateurs alike. Personally, I found this to be a deeply resonating journey about how I might be able to approach an understanding of what it means to be human, and what it means to ride. The lessons that the book covers throughout it's aptly named 21 stages (including a prologue) are lessons that everyone can learn from, and are applicable to all areas of life. Ware captures the ephemeral nature of cycling perfectly.
In twenty one chapters disguised as twenty one stages over various years Ware talks about the wins and losses and chances and the all too human stories that the Tour de France throws up. For Ware the Tour is not about winning or even about doping but about these human stories of men and bikes. That the Tour is so often won or lost on these chances makes it a sort of metaphor for life and Ware draws these parallels nicely. He never lets it get too wordy or too abstract and is always able to bring us back to the man the bike and the road.
Recently due to the anticipated closure of the great website Adelaide Cyclists (http://www.adelaidecyclists.com/) I was reminded about this book - at the time I lived in Adelaide, the same city as the author, and I bought it soon after release. As the blurb says it's a great eclectic mix of discussion about cycling linked in to various political, sociological, and other discussions. So you won't enjoy the book if you just want a good cycling run-down - but if you're keen on philosophy as well, it's a great combination :)
The most satisfying read I've had all year: personal, insightful, well-researched -- not written just for cycling fans, but for anyone who craves another way to make sense of a few of the bigger questions in life generally. It's may not be the easiest title to order but the six-week back-and-forth with this tiny publisher in Australia was worth it.