In search of the body of Sandy Irvine and the solution to the mystery of whether he and George Mallory ever made it to the summit, the author and his team climb Mt Everest during one of the deadliest seasons ever.
I am not sure why I am drawn to stories about Mt Everest. Certainly I mean to never climb it, and I can’t quite empathize with those who are drawn to it, even if I can understand it sometimes. And books like this underscore why.
This book is a mix of things – part a history of the Mallory expedition and the search for it a hundred years later, part a story of climbing Everest in the modern day and part about a deadly day for a climb in the 2018 season, stemming from the infamous traffic jam as well as the general dangers of climbing Everest. As you can tell, there is a lot going on here and this results in a mixed focus, with sections of the story jockeying for position, as so the overall impact is reduced.
I also didn’t always like the narrator and his team, especially as they sometimes attempted to deceive the Sherpas in a way that could have impacted their lives and livelihood, but considering the secrecy surrounding the expedition it made sense. It ties into a broader story about morals breaking down on Everest, one that I was surprised and pleased to see the author tackle. High on the mountain, spurred on my summit fever, people often lose sight of humanity and have even left others to die, devoid of all altruism. Secure in my bed, I can judge them, but Synnott posited that the question is more complicated than that, though I never could pin down where he stood on the issue.
Overall, an interesting read, best where it discusses the challenges and glories of climbing Everest today.
