Book 57: Landfalls

Landfalls

Naomi J. Williams

This book offers a realistic imagined version of a circumnavigational voyage helmed by French Commodore Jean-François de Galaup, comte de Lapérouse, in the late 18th century. Reading almost like a novel in stories, each chapter offers a different point of view based on one of the expedition's ports of call, following everyone from the voyage's officers and seamen to those waiting for them at home and those whom the expedition encountered along their travels. The mix of perspectives and storytelling techniques keeps the book fresh and rounds out the story, lending it a sense of realism unmatched by many historical novels, particularly those (like this one) that must, by necessity, fill in numerous gaps from the actual historical record. Williams is a deft writer and the reading experience is as engrossing as it is gently educational; clearly based on serious research, the stories never lose sight of the humanity behind the events, and each is compelling while adding to the tapestry of the whole. Landfalls is an excellent fictional introduction to a relatively unknown scientific pursuit, a well-imagined take on what might have been on an ill-fated journey into the unknown.

Grade: A

Book 3: Into the Silence

Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest

Wade Davis

The story of George Mallory, would-be and possible first (known) conqueror of the world's tallest mountain, is perhaps easily forgotten in the age of Mount Everest's ever-increasing commercialization. In the wake of recent tragedies, however, it seems wise and timely to remember that ascending the mountain has always been an exceptionally difficult task. In Into the Silence, Wade Davis provides detailed descriptions of the first three British expeditions to this particular region of the Himalaya and attempts to place those attempts into the context of the interwar period. He succeeds quite admirably on the first account but, sadly, falls a bit short of the second.

The author's attempts to recall the war do offer informative insights into the psyches of the men who took part in the reconnaissance and climbing efforts of 1921, 1922, and 1924, but they tend to stand apart, interspersed with the main story yet simultaneously outside of it. These capsule biographies- which often focus on the war- appear throughout the volume, usually accompanying an early mention of a major figure, but seem to taper off toward the end of the volume, even as new (pivotal) characters make their initial appearances. They also have the annoying propensity to blend together, making it easy to forget who was who and driving the reader to lump all of the biographies together as something akin to "terrible experiences at the front." Davis has an uncanny ability to evoke the sights and sounds of the Western Front, as well as the attitudes that led to widespread British support of the war effort and the appallingly outdated tactics that effectively doomed a generation, but he never effectively links the war to the Everest expeditions. Sure, he states outright several times that there was a connection, and indeed it is evident in some of the personalities he describes, but he never actually ties them together. As a reader, I don't mind doing some of the legwork myself, but when the thesis is essentially the title of the book- and mentioned repeatedly throughout, no less- I expect a bit more active effort on behalf of the author.

Davis, does, however, create a compelling narrative, one obviously based on extensive historical research with the best of all possible primary resources, the explorers' letters and diaries. It is obvious that he tries to draw conclusions only when they are supported by available evidence, and he is usually upfront when making conjectures. That he does this in unobtrusive fashion is a credit to him and a great relief to readers. Despite creating biographies that all-too-often run together, he is able to bring these men to life, a feat made all the more remarkable by a lack of dialogue. The story itself is powerful simply because of its nature as one of Britain's final grand imperial gestures (which readers will recognize despite the author's seeming reluctance to actually connect the dots), but Davis presents it as an ongoing adventure into the unknown as the British walked, as one explorer put it, "off the map." The monasteries and people of Tibet come alive and, though readers will need to repeatedly consult the book's helpful maps to keep the geography straight, the mountain looms over all. Remarkably, Davis also manages to keep an aura of mystery and suspense in his telling of the story, though the ultimate outcome has long since been determined.

The writing itself is, at its best, remarkably vivid, respectful, and emotional, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention its primary flaw. Davis relies so heavily on the phrase even as that I began noticing every occurrence- and believe me, there are a lot of them- only a few pages into the book. Worse, he doesn't seem to be aware what the phrase actually means and implies, using it constantly as a substitute for the simple, yet accurate, as. That phrase does not mean what he thinks it means, and it often makes the text burdensome.

Grammatical gripe aside, however, the book is quite compelling from start to end. Davis's decision to include a sketched history of British interaction with Everest from the Survey of India's first sightings to the treatment of Mallory's corpse in 1999, as well as additional context about the history of Tibet and relevant figures and legends of Tibetan Buddhism, does place the early-20s expeditions in context, though some of that context does suffer from heavy implication and light actual treatment. Overall, Into the Silence is an excellent and engaging history of the Mallory expeditions.

Grade: A-

Book 11: Into Thin Air

Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster

Jon Krakauer

Though the 1996 Everest disaster is over a decade in the past, Jon Krakauer's memoir about his experiences on the mountain that spring should continue to fascinate modern audiences. There is, after all, something inherently timeless about the world's tallest mountain, and Krakauer's observations about the nature and effects of Everest's increasing commercialization seem ever more poignant now that the mountain's popularity among amateurs is at an all-time high (and growing). His account is accessible to the average reader with no climbing experience, and he does an exceptionally good job setting the scene, describing the mountain and providing crucial context for the ways in which the events of May 1996 led to eight deaths in a mere two days. Ever the journalist, Krakauer admits the biases inherent in his own account (he was, after all, suffering from the affects of altitude sickness), and accepts responsibility for earlier inaccuracies in his story regarding the death of Andy Hall. Though Krakauer is critical of particular individuals, he is careful to hedge his bets in what appears to be a genuine attempt to be fair while relaying his own opinion. The story itself is gripping from start to finish and Krakauer's skill in describing high-altitude climbing to the uninitiated might have (ironically) contributed to the romanticization of Everest, despite the fact that his account is largely centered on the inherit perils of attempting the mountain.. This accessibility, combined with compelling (if occasionally overly reverent) portraits of the primary and secondary players, make the book come alive; it is anything but dry and retains an air of suspense despite describing events that are now fairly well documented. The well-written Into Thin Air offers captivating insights into the world of high-altitude climbing and presents a valuable first-person insight into the nature of life and disaster on the world's tallest mountain.

Grade: A

Book 31: Finding the Game

Finding the Game: Three Years, Twenty-Five Countries, and the Search for Pickup Soccer

Gwendolyn Oxenham

Out of college in her mid-twenties, Gwendolyn Oxenham, her boyfriend, and two friends set out to discover how soccer, the game she loves, connects communities around the world beyond the lights of the Premier League and the World Cup. During her journey around the world, Oxenham documented the group's attempts to find, and participate in, pickup soccer games and other non-professional matches. While her love of soccer and her appreciation of the game's ability to unite people across language and cultural barriers are evident throughout, Oxenham occasionally lapses into preachiness or misplaced self-congratulation. The book can't quite decide whether it's an exploration of the global nature of the game or a travel/self-discovery memoir. While both of these elements sometimes coexist in harmony, there is often a tension between them as the writing whips back and forth. The writing is sufficient and the passion more than enough to sustain the story as the group proceeds through its many adventures, both expected and, well, less so. From initial disappointments in Trinidad and Argentina to surprising success on the rooftops of Tokyo, Oxenham and company chase the game, but throughout much of the book there's a feeling of emptiness as the travelogue eclipses more meaningful analysis. The chapters on Iran and Israel stand out for their brilliant combination of straightforward storytelling and examination of the political ramifications of their journey. While hopeful activists praise soccer's ability to unite disparate Jewish and Palestinian communities, Oxenham witnesses a more complicated situation on the ground as sides of each ethnicity meet on the field but ultimately leave in their own isolated pockets. In Iran, the situation is more tense as the group must weather the tensions that plague any Americans visiting the country, let alone a group intent on mingling with anyone and everyone, despite the warnings and discouragement from the official tour guides. Readers will be drawn to Oxenham's obvious appreciation for soccer and for the entertaining stories of her round-the-world trip, but those hoping for Finding the Game to present a deeper examination of meaning may ultimately be disappointed.

Grade: B

Book 14: A Night to Remember

A Night to Remember

Walter Lord

As a major fan of the 1997 movie, I couldn't let the 100th anniversary of the Titanic's sinking go by unnoticed, and I considered Walter Lord's classic post-sinking recap A Night to Remember a good place to start. From the start, it's obvious that the author did his homework: the book is built on a solid research foundation, though a number of inconsistencies in survivors' testimonies prove that the memory is fragile as a source of fact. Lord, however, wisely does not shy away from this fact, and though he tends to put the vast majority of his faith in these tales, 40 years old or more, he has few other options and does choose to briefly address the issues, though he quickly returns to parroting firsthand accounts. The main problem with the book, then, is not in the potential flaws in its story, unavoidable in an age without mobile video and in a story that has only its survivors available to tell the tale, but rather in its execution, for which Lord can be rightfully blamed. Faced with a huge number of precious firsthand anecdotes and primary documents about one of the most fascinating stories of the post-Gilded Era, one that in many ways serves as a microcosm of the whole period, Lord resorts to a bored, stifled prose driven not by narrative force but by his need to add just one more interesting tidbit. While we do follow certain survivors and famous casualties around the ship on that fateful night, the story (such as it is) doesn't so much "begin" or "open" as "commence," and the tragedies are reduced to newsflash microparagraphs, with related story after related story hitting in such quick succession that they quickly blend together. The effects can occasionally prove haunting, as a rapid-fire freeze frame of a crucial moment, but the entire night is reduced to a string of bite-sized pieces, dehumanized through too-intense magnification. What's worse, Lord butchers his attempt to place the sinking in its historical and historiographic contexts, placing his ruminative comments neither at the beginning nor end of the text, but rather right between the sinking and the rescue by the Carpathia. This dilutes the effect of the story, rather than enhancing it in the way I presume Lord intended, and though his thoughts are coherent and his points poignant, they get lost amidst the suspense of the suspended narrative. Nonetheless, while many of the finer points will be handily recognized by fans of Cameron's movie, the book is worth reading and does provide some moving insight into the sinking. Walter Lord is a capable writer, if not a particularly compelling one, and the story never stagnates of wallows, though it sometimes proceeds too rapidly to be truly effective. It is a bare-bones story told adequately but without exceptional literary skill. A Night to Remember is a solid condensing of survivor stories from one of the world's most captivating shipwrecks, and a good place to start for those looking for a firsthand glimpse of the ship's final, fateful hours.

Grade: B+

Book 49: Around the World in Eighty Days

Around the World in Eighty Days

Though Verne is perhaps best known for his science fiction, the sense of adventure so pivotal throughout his books is equally alive in the far more realistic, nearly madcap Around the World in Eighty Days. The story, dated though it is in the days when eighty days can take you from the Earth to the Moon nearly four times, is a fun adventure story that works in a fair amount of suspense and a funny, scientifically-based, and only occasionally telegraphed twist ending. The reader follows enigmatic, unflappable Englishman Phileas Fogg as he attempts to cash in on a bet that he can travel the world's circumference in the titular time, utilizing various means of transportation and dodging the efforts of slightly bumbling detective Fix, convinced there is a darker motive behind Fogg's otherwise highly eccentric excursion. As can be expected from a European writer in the late 1800s, the book is full of patronizing racism, often less offensive, however, than informative on the contemporary viewpoint. It is hardly surprising, for example, that the Indian beauty the group encounters along the way is incredibly fair-skinned, and it seems odd that Verne wouldn't bother to give a pivotal "Parsee" character a proper name, but these slips, occurring as they do in such an obviously dated work, hardly seem out of place and while properly horrifying to modern readers do not overtly detract from the book's own universe. Indeed, Verne was hardly a friend to the English, and inserts plenty of snide jibes at the British character, with the main hero being, of course, Fogg's intrepid, and conveniently multi-talented, French manservant. The story is, at its heart, simply fun, told in a matter-of-fact prose that mirrors Phileas Fogg's own reserved manner, playing it straight throughout some absurd, though never madcap, circumstances. Despite its modern political incorrectness, Around the World in Eighty Days is a fun work of suspense, poised between detective novel and adventure story and retaining a subtle 19th century charm.

Grade: A