The greatest cycling novel ever written. . . . An underground classic. . . . A bicycling book that follows a different course—one with characters you can relate to, whose actions raise questions about life on and off the bicycle. . . . The heart of The Yellow Jersey is the Tour de France itself, which serves as a metaphor for life.— Bicycling Magazine
"This is sports fiction at its very best. Mr. Hurne has a cool, downbeat style descended from Lardner and Hemingway, and a fine hand with the hairpins turns of suspense."— The New York Times Book Review
"Full of wit, charm, excitement, and intelligence."— Publishers Weekly
An excerpt from the
It's a funny sort of stage. Everyone seems to be waiting for Romain to attack. Van Faignaert, as I expected, is taking things easy and trying to keep the bunch together. Butch Cassidy's not a bad climber and on the Col de Foreyssasse he has a go, but the Belgian team swoops and soon has him under control. I can see on the faces of the spectators that they are disappointed. They've turned out in their thousands expecting this to be It; I feel like shouting to them to go home and come back tomorrow. We get strung out a bit coming down the Foreyssasse but regroup at the bottom. The ominous threat of Romain taking off, coupled with the strong control of the race by the Belgian team, who're doing their damnedest to keep everyone in one lump, has really put the mockers on things.
I'm just beginning to think that the worst of the stage has passed when the rider directly in front of me punctures, loses control and goes sliding along the loose surface on his side. It's on a sharp descent and the bunch is moving. Although it all happens in a split second, I'm unable to go either to the left or right of the fallen man and I jam on my brakes. With both wheels locked solid I pile into him at about thirty miles per hour. Normally I would have been flung over the handlebars, but my toe straps are sufficiently tight for me to do several cartwheels with the bike still attached to me. For a second everything seems upside down; then pain. I lie there feeling as if I'll never move again. From the front of the group I see v
Terry Davenport is a cyclist past his prime. Personally, he has affection for his girlfriend, but that doesn’t stop him from having affairs with her daughter and (at least one of) her younger customers. He’s a wily road racer. Professionally, his wits keep him competitive against racers of greater skill. Still, his last days are in sight. A genteel retirement with his girlfriend, a prosperous shopkeeper, is his likely future—and he’s not exactly thrilled about it. He doesn’t dislike the prospect, but he can easily imagine greener pastures.
Terry has been delegated to train Romain, his team’s talented but timid climbing specialist. Romain can fly up hills, but lacks the savvy and perhaps the drive to survive and win shoulder-to-shoulder sprints where cycling becomes something of a contact sport.
The story leads, inevitably given the book’s title, to Le Tour and Terry’s last shot at a big race. He’s in the race primarily to protect Romain, but soon the chance to make his own run at the yellow jersey is too good to pass by.
Hurne’s cycling narratives are exciting, probably the highlight of the book. It would probably help the reader to have some knowledge of road racing, but I suspect it’s not necessary to enjoy the book.
In reality, however, this is a coming-of-middle-age story, Terry’s struggle to facing the impending end of his youth. He’s an athlete and a womanizer, and he’s staring at a future where neither of those identities will be his.
Told by an older pro rider on his last Tour de France effort. He has been brought into a team to support a young rider with a good potential but not the character to unite the team behind him. The team's effort become split and when the protagonist finds himself in yellow despite being a domestique the team fails to rally to his support. This may have been pure fiction but this is a realistic portrayal of why it is a team event. No single man wins the Tour.
The cycling is great, but the philandering protagonist is not sympathetic. With many athletes competing successfully late in life, the woe-is-me-I'm-too-old line is just outdated.
Ostensibly a novel about a man who strives to compete in the Tour de France, but the details of preparing for and competing in the race are the best parts.
One of very few cycle-racing novels and, even though the 1973 publication date shows, particularly in the primitive attitude towards women, once this gets on to the Tour de France it’s very convincing. The thirty-seven year old English protagonist, lured out of retirement to be a domestique to a young climber from Luxembourg, takes advantage of believable luck to gain the maillot jaune before a penultimate showdown with a Belgian challenger. Stronger in its descriptions of racing than its soap-opera, but still a pretty good read
This is an entertaining enough story that is full of le Tour history and exciting bicycle racing. The protagonist is also a rather randy, or player-type, individual dealing with his aging athletic body, as well as being involved with a rather questionable relationship of a Greek tragedy quality only a Freudian could truly enjoy. (But I didn't put it down, I raced through it! -Yea, I went there.)
Simply put a sporting novel at its finest. Davenport takes your emotions up and down as he competes as a naysayer with zero confidence in his ability at his age past his prime. You will definately be rooting for him to win. A must read for any cyclist or fan of cycling.
An interesting story set against the backdrop of the Tour de France (ca. 50's or 60's?). Past his prime, can an aging cyclist make good of one last chance to get the glory?
Great book once it gets to bike racing. First half of the story is setting up the main character, but once it gets to the race it's a very good story. Hence, only a 3 star.