Younghusband gives here a very readable condensed description (319 pages in a pocket-sized book, illustrated) of the accounts of three expeditions which can be read at full length in “Mount Everest: The Reconnaissance, 1921”; “The Assault on Mount Everest; 1922;”, and “The Fight for Everest; 1924.” That immediately puts the narrative of “The Epic of Mount Everest” into reported speech; which having recently finished reading Wilfred Noyce’s excellent “South Col” (the conquest of Everest in 1953), I initially found a little awkward.
“The Epic …” is very well worth persisting with. It’s unfortunately far too easy for success to breed an entirely unwarranted laissez-faire over what previously were felt to be insurmountable challenges. Hence the discussion and arguments ranging throughout this book on the benefits of acclimatisation and the use, or not, of pure oxygen; would have made a valuable contribution to the planning of the 1953 expedition. With three expeditions in one book, it is interesting to follow how ultimate success was realised from that knowledge and experience, however painfully obtained. Oh for the advantages of hindsight!
It seems obvious to us now that man can survive at 29,002 ft (even more so now that the summit of Everest witnesses stationary queues of climbers); but back in 1921 no-one knew if it was physically possible for man to climb to, let alone survive, at that height. This was the technological and physiological Project Mercury and Project Apollo challenge of its day. We should indeed be careless to forget that. Here were stoic fit young men who, having recently fought for King and Country in the First World War, were accustomed to great hardships, deprivation and fear; and who knew exactly how to lead, move and inspire men to ever greater achievement through appealing to their imagination.
The successful 1953 expedition climbed Mt. Everest from the south (Nepal). Due to the politics of the time, the British expeditions of 1921, ’22, and ‘24 had to hope (there was no certainty) that there might be a route up the mountain from the north (Tibet). How unthinkably awful to survive through all that extreme physical exertion and danger …. and then, possibly, not even find a way up to the summit!
It was heart-rending to read of Norton and Somervell’s reasoned decision in 1924 to turn back at 28,126ft. Here Younghusband’s style of writing rises resonant of the period; some may now find such an attitude difficult to grasp; “Immortal glory was almost within their grasp; but they were too faint to clutch it. No stouter-hearted man or one of more indomitable courage than Somervell exists, or a more collected and persistently tenacious man than Norton”.(p.263)
Mallory and Irvine’s failure to return home on the 1924 ascent is examined in interesting detail; though with difficulty given the paucity of actual evidence pointing to their fate. Grief is assuaged through that very late Victorian (C19th) emotional mechanism of acclaiming great honour through worthy character and deeds. Not that the game is played, but how the game is played; one of the best proponents of this being the journalist and poet Rudyard Kipling, devastated by the death of his only son, who was killed in action during the First World War. Those of us alive today forget all too easily how uncommon our immediate experience of death is.
The text of this book, together with its sixteen b/w photographic plates and two line-maps, left me feeling both deeply moved and wistfully saddened that we have so few heroes of the ilk of those Everest pioneers today. The bookshelves (shop and electronic) full of TV, motorsport, and music celebrity memoirs for sale appear desperately cheap, tawdry, and insubstantial by comparison to the lives and deeds of those early heroic mountaineers who risked death and disablement to fight Everest, and who in the process greatly enlarged our scientific knowledge of this most imperial of mountains.