It took me a while to get into this book. To be honest I'm not sure why, just I started reading it and didn't enjoy it, then I picked it up yesterday and for some reason I could not put it down. I do believe that some books are read at the right time, and I think maybe I started this book just a month too soon. Between beginning the book, and picking it up again yesterday, I read a book about the genocide in Cambodia - which features in this book, or rather the author considers it in this book. And its because of that I think I started to read it too early, as otherwise his considerations about the foibles and evils of mankind would have been far more abstract for me..
This is not a mountaineering book in the way any of the others I have read are. Yes the author attempts to climb some mountains during the pages, but the focus here is very internal - he considers whether it is right that those privileged enough to be able to climb, should do so - especially in areas of the world where they are amongst those who have no privilege. I found this to be really interesting in the end, whilst other authors have touched upon this to some extent (mainly around the use of Sherpa's) this is the first book I have really read about mountaineering that really points out the discrepancies between those doing the climbing and the myriad of other people who support them in doing so.
(Granted the author spoils most of this with some thoughts about women in gyms and how he can ogle them if he wants to, but if he doesn't want to its not his fault if he ends up doing it... which is utter BS but it did highlight to me how old this book is. First published in 1996 this book predates the current era of understanding and attempted equality, so I can, somewhat, understand why the author finds it acceptable to blame women for his lack of willpower but not how he struggles to accept/understand climbing in areas where the funds go towards corrupt regimes. I can understand it but I find it very hypocritical and automatically docked a star from the book because of that.)
I think the main takeaway though from the retrospective nature of this book is the 'machismo' on display. I'm not sure if there is a gender neutral word for this, but given the majority of the book deals with men in climbing (or men in dictatorships) I'm not going to look it up. But there is a definite sense of 'toughness' here, of defeat being a bad thing. I do think that knowing your limits is a strength, but here Simpson shows how even making the smart thing can make him doubt himself and once that happens the knock-on effect it has. I think it could be interesting re-reading some of the more personal mountaineering accounts and seeing if I can spot that same sense of machismo in them.
There are a couple of times when the author discusses the "third man" (though he does not name it as such), this has been mentioned in a previous book I read on climbing, and I find the idea of it to be really fascinating, scary, but fascinating. Potentially this might be a subject to explore in more detail as I move my reading on, but the main expansion I want to take away from this book is about Tibet. Having read a number of books on Everest I've suddenly realised my knowledge about the country is incredibly lacking, so I'll be looking to rectify that - maybe some of the books about climbing the North Face of Everest might help but also books on Tibet in general.
From reading a few other reviews this book is not as good as his earlier book "Touching the Void" - given that despite my opinion of the sexist machismo displayed I still really enjoyed this, I'm hopeful that I'll end up finding Void to be at least as equally as good.