Annapurna: The First Conquest of an 8000-metre Peak (Paperback)

I first read this book in the early 1960s as a young teenager. I recall being enthralled by it and amazed at the hardships the climbers endured to bring glory to France. In reading it again as an adult, I find myself still enthralled, but more attuned to the fact that it is written in a somewhat self-serving style.

The book itself chronicles the attempt by the French to climb an 8,000 meter peak in the Himalayas. They had two alternatives: Dhaulagiri and Annapurna. In those days, the Himalayas were largely uncharted and any topographical maps which existed at the time proved to be largely incorrect. So, the French expedition spent a large portion of their time in reconnaissance. Not only were they there to climb the mountain, they first had to find a way to get to it and then map out a route on the unknown terrain to the summit. Ultimately, they chose to climb Annapurna.

In reading this book, one must remember that the climb took place without the sophisticated equipment or protective clothing available today. This was before gortex and freeze-dried foods. This climb was made before Nepal or climbing the Himalayas became a major tourist attraction. The conditions for travellers were extremely primitive and difficult under the best of circumstances.

When the expedition finally finds a route to Annapurna, the reader almost feels like cheering for them. When they start to climb, one senses that, in comparison to latter day expeditions, they were not so well equipped or savvy about the dangers one can encounter during a high altitude climb or the risks in doing it without supplemental oxygen, as they did. Then one realizes that they were pioneers. They were paving the way for others.

The climb to the summit by Maurice Herzog and his partner, Louis Lachenal, is interesting, but it is their harrowing descent and return to civilization which is riveting. The two summiteers began their descent inauspiciously enough but soon ran into difficulties. They were fortunate enough to encounter two of their fellow climbers, Lionel Terray and Gaston Rebuffat, who were contemplating their own summit assault but, instead, chose to aid their comrades in their descent, foregoing their own quest for the summit.

The travails which the climbers encountered on the descent would have finished off less hardy souls. Maurice Herzog lost his gloves during the descent and had no spare pair. One of climbers fell into a crevasse which, believe it or not, turned out to be a good thing. They were caught in an avalanche. They got lost in a storm. They became frostbitten and two of them were, ultimately, forced to endure amputations.

The medical treatment they received by the expedition doctor was unbelievable and almost primitive. Employing treatments for frostbite that have since fallen onto disrepute (excruciatingly painful arterial injections, for example), the doctor was almost frightening, at times. The reader cannot help but feel pity for the suffering the injured climbers endured: maggot ridden flesh, amputations without anaesthesia, and lack of proper medical care for a protracted period of time.

The heroics of some of the sherpas, as on most expeditions, went largely unsung. One must pause to reflect on the fact that as this all took place before airlifts were available, the injured climbers had to be carried. Their exodus back to the frontier took about five weeks. Who do you think carried them down the mountain, over the moraines, on makeshifts bridges over flooded, raging rivers, through dense jungle? Who else but the sherpas. What thanks did they get? None, as usual.

Anyway, when the expedition finally returned to France, Maurice Herzog was lauded as a national hero by the French. He became the media darling. The other three climbers, as were the rest of the climbers on the expedition, were largely ignored and forgotten. Therein lies the tale. If you want to know how this polarization came about, I highly recommend that one also read 'True Summit' by David Roberts. It gives one the inside scoop about the expedition and how things really were.

Notwithstanding its idealization, romanticism, and everything is hunky-dory routine, Herzog's book is still a must read for all climbing enthusiasts.

Herzog (though you'd never know it from his account) was the only amateur and the least able member of the two lead ropes on Annapurna and the only amateur, but he was selected as the expedition leader by the organizers for largely financial and political reasons.

Before the team left France, Herzog made the other climbers sign an oath of silence that they would not speak or write about Annapurna for five years after their return. Only one person was going to get to tell the story of this expedition, and that was Herzog. The result: Herzog was lionized as the "Great White Chief" of the expedition--and the three legendary guides who actually got him to the summit -- including Lachenal -- were relegated to "mere accessories" (Terray's words).

Herzog told a nationalistic fairy tale that was just what post-war France wanted to hear, but he ignored the serious conflicts among the team members and the fact that "Lachenal was the guide [on the final assault], and Herzog the amateur." (Read Rebuffat's biography if you have a doubt on that score!)

When Lachenal died in 1955, only months before the end of Herzog's gag order, he was preparing to publish his own journals of the expedition ("Carnets du Vertige"). In an amazing twist, Herzog got control of the manuscript after Lachenal's death (this story is perhaps even uglier than the story of the expedition). Herzog published a heavily edited posthumous version omitting all the parts that conflicted with Herzog's original account and cast questions on his leadership.

Now, Lachenal's unedited journals have finally been published--and, along with a new biography of Rebuffat, they reveal the real story of Annapurna -- one that the other team members hinted at all along. Lachenal's account makes clear that Herzog was delirious and totally disoriented long before they summitted. It also describes Herzog's insane obsession with taking photos on the summit, despite Lachenal's warnings that they were getting more and more frostbitten, a storm was coming, and every second made it less likely they would get down alive. Most poignantly, Lachenal explains that he knew on the way up neither he nor Herzog were in fit shape to continue, but that when Herzog refused to turn back, Lachenal went on with him, "though I knew it would cost me," because he also knew Herzog could never get down alive without him -- a pure and total sacrifice which had nothing to do with ambition and self-aggrandisement but was, in Lachenal's own words, "an affair of the rope."

Everyone who wants to know the real story of Annapurna should read Lachenal's journals -- and also Lionel Terray's wonderful book "Conquistadors of the Useless." Terray, who went on to conquer Makalu, the Fitzroy and other great peaks, gives perhaps the most knowleagable and objective account of the Annapurna expedition .... though one that tellingly skips over certain problematic episodes. Terray also tells the unforgettable story of the Lachenal-Terray rope -- the most famous climbing team of their generation -- from their brilliant ascents in the Alps to the travesty of their "victorious" return from Annapurna with Terray carrying the mutilated Lachenal in his arms.

Lachenal was the real hero on the final assault of Annapurna, and Terray's book shows the real price Lachenal paid to get Herzog to the summit and back alive in a way you simply cannot understand if you have only read Herzog's fundamentally selfish account of the expedition.

We may never know Herzog's real motivations -- and it seems very likely that he was deluded rather than willfully and knowingly dishonest. But there is no excuse for anyone to read "Annapurna" today without at least recognizing that Herzog's story is highly questionable -- and that after Lachenal's untimely death, Herzog participated in the most shocking betrayal of the very man who saved his life on Annapurna.

So get over it, English speakers! Stop swallowing this book. Read Terray. Read Lachenal. Read Rebuffat. Read the real story.