When mountains are your salvation, what keep your mental weather calm and free of storms, how do you cope if they’re out of reach? After spending a decade restlessly globetrotting in search of a way of life that worked for him, journalist Kieran Cunningham alighted on Sondrio, a small town in Lombardy, Italy. A stone’s throw from the Alps, there he found the perfect combination of fresh mountain air, a strong network of local friends and lots of climbing. Finally he was able to accept and manage his diagnosis of Bipolar 1. And then Lombardy found itself the European epicentre of Covid-19 and subject to the strictest of lockdowns. What does a climber do when his beloved peaks are off limits? When he’s only permitted to leave the house for his weekly sanctioned grocery shop? When all the things that help him maintain his delicate equilibrium are taken away? As Kieran feels his mental health begin to crumble, he looks desperately for something he can climb to help rid him of his excess energy and hopefully get him back on track. Kieran finds himself navigating the walls of his house over and over while gazing at the mountain ranges so tantalisingly close. He dreams of that first euphoric climb – alone in the clouds, tired, happy, sated. Climbing the Walls is a memoir about mental health and the power of nature and exercise. It’s both a devastatingly honest account of living with Bipolar 1 and a love song to small-town Italian life and the high places that keep him healthy.
At times witty and profound, gut-wrenching or palm-sweating, Kieran Cunningham has crafted a vibrant world that forces upon the reader the very question of how we treat ourselves, others, and the world. "Climbing the Walls" is a clear evocation of Cunningham's masterful and austere prose - terse in high-times of tension, lyrical in Italian or in Scottish recollections - it is always deliberate, carefully constructed. I found myself scribbling in the margins, underlining sentences and paragraphs, or having to close the book, for many times, I was simply floored by the passages. The landscapes are vibrant. The characters honest. The relationships effervescent - heart-breaking and comforting. Although I was at first apprehensive of a "covid/lock down" book, these thoughts were immediately blown asunder - Kieran Cunningham has succeeded in stringing together an honest and coherent narrative that transcends its temporal focus.
Keiran Cunningham’s ‘Climbing the walls’, is an account of being ‘locked down’ during the first wave of the pandemic while he was working and living in a remote village in Italy, estranged from his girlfriend, his increasingly vulnerable parents, his essential medication and the loss of access to the mountains and crags where he would climb, not only for its own multifarious appeal but to stay the very stresses of life which would be variably amplified and distorted by his bipolar disorder. The book describes the draconian response of the Italian authorities in enforcing compliance and the sweet human response of his landlady who lived upstairs and the typically warm friendship of the local Italians who gradually re-emerged as the lockdown tentatively eased some months later. This vivid and candid account resonates very strongly with my own experiences of living in a small Italian village where I would also climb and so recognised instantly much of the warmth and kindness of the Italians that Keiran describes so honestly.
In this unvarnished account of enforced confinement he describes the growing restlessness and anxiety that was beginning to erode his resilience and ability to function at his work creating increasing dissonance and anxiety by being cut off from his parents and his girlfriend who were similarly locked down in remote countries.
It tells of how he set and named climbing routes within the walled garden in a bid to recapture some normality and to dispel the noise that life creates for all of us to greater or lesser extents. For anyone who climbs to escape the burdens of life for a while, to tick a fitness box, to fix an addiction, to socialise, to challenge one’s self, to relish the frustration of working out a crux and the elation of achieving this and all the metaphors of how this relates to life, this book will be profoundly impactful.
This was a brave book to write, and with significant risk of painful exposure but Keiran has bravely executed the crux’s, the overhangs and the vertical sections to clip the top in an astonishing ‘on sight send’. Five stars… but I’d rather say a 9a+ of a book!
Climbing the Walls is a well-written account of a unique situation, from a unique perspective. Cunningham's bipolar disorder is obviously challenging in the best of times, but being "locked down" in a small town in Italy during the depths of the COVID-19 pandemic tested his mental stability and endurance. Further, as a mountain climber Cunningham moved to this area in order to be near the Italian Alps, his main source of stability, and he was prevented from climbing by nonsensical government public health policy (e.g., there was minimal risk of infection or transmission for solo travelers in the mountains). He managed to adapt, however, which is the central theme of the book.
This memoir is therefore not just an account of an individual living with bipolar disorder, who also happens to be an accomplished mountain climber. It's also an account of how some governments mismanaged a devastating pandemic and the resulting impact on individuals' mental health, the strength of intelligent adaptation to a difficult situation, and the power of meaningful human relationships.
Further, according to brief asides the author appears to have had a fascinating life outside of the few months that are the focus of the book. I understand why he focused on this brief period, but I hope that he can follow up this memoir with a broader accounting of his life.
My only minor criticism is there are no photographs in the book. Although Cunningham has a good descriptive sense, a few photographs of the town and surrounding beautiful mountains would have emphasized the anguish he experienced by not being able to "escape into reality" (his phrase) - to the hills.
A beautifully, expertly written book about... everything really. I haven't enjoyed a book this much in years. The warmth that Kieran shows towards his adoptive Italian family and friends is really touching. The way he describes the pain and beauty of his experience in lockdown (and before) without wasting adjectives is very affecting and skilfully done. The climbing scenes are perfectly written, dramatic but not overly dramatised. It left me with a warm feeling in my heart and a desire to move into Giuseppina's basement.
Beautifully written, inspiring and moving. An honest and brave insight to the author’s life with bipolar 1, and not only through the challenges of lockdown but life as a whole, and how his passion for climbing has been a means of coping. I was instantly hooked, it’s gripping, at times intense and at times poetic, with humour and lighthearted moments. Once you start you will not want to put this down!
Compelling and easy to read, it was a joy to relive the first days of lockdown with Kieran, while learning about his life and challenges with Bipolar Disorder and his experience in his little Italian town. I think he did an excellent job writing this and it made me quite emotional quite often.
I bought this book originally for my son who’s an avid climber. He too has been hugely affected by Lockdown and the impact on his mental health. I started to read it before giving it to him, and I just couldn’t put it down. Kieron is so honest and his vulnerability is compelling. I just loved his writing style. Well worth a read on so many levels.
Thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. A very honest account of dealing with mental health issues whilst at the same time being witty and fun as well as painting a beautiful picture of life in the mountains. May have even inspired a trip to northern Italy to see what all the fuss is about!