Edmund Hillary: High Adventure

Reviewed by PHILIP TEMPLE

This was one of the first books I read when I started climbing at the end of the 1950s, the account from the man himself of his explorations around the Everest region in 1951-52 and then his successful first ascent in 1953.

I remembered it as being a forceful, straightforward account and that I was hugely impressed by the Everest achievement and his hair-raising adventures with fellow New Zealander George Lowe, crossing the collapsing icefields of the Nup La, or being caught in a giant whirlpool in the Arun River on a makeshift raft made of air mattresses.

I remember the sobering feeling I had, that very likely, as a mountaineer, I would never be able to emulate Hillary's strength or scale of achievements. But then few other people thought they could either. Reading this facsimile edition of the book more than 40 years later, those impressions remain intact. But hindsight and experience have helped to reveal more.

Hillary's account is raw and unmodulated compared to the more measured, and even revisionist, accounts of his later books. Energy and enthusiasm bounce off the pages as well as the usual unrelenting Hillary determination to succeed. "Challenge" and "achievement" would have to be the key words in any Hillary family motto. But "seize the day" and "my way" would also come close. As this book shows, he never wanted to be anywhere else on a mountain except at the front and he was never hesitant about coming forward and telling 1953 Everest leader John Hunt what he thought should be done.

There was no room for sentiment, even where his old mate George was concerned either: "I argued strongly with Hunt. The whole Lhotse attack was too weak; George Lowe had done a good job, but he'd been up there too long and no longer had any punch; if we didn't crack the route to the South Col pretty soon, we might as well go home."

Jan Morris, the Times correspondent on the Everest expedition described Hillary as "not so much graceful as unshakably assured, his energy almost demonic". This is why, of course, he got to the top. No-one else except Tenzing Norgay could keep up with him. Although I think Lowe would have got there also, had he been given the chance.

Hillary's writing is straightforward and largely unadorned, accurately reflecting the man. His accounts of march-ins through the Nepalese hill country are surprisingly evocative at times. But when he gives long blow-by-blow accounts of hacking routes through ice-falls, the narrative becomes tedious. And I caught myself thinking that the persona reflected in the writing seemed more that of a man in his mid-20s rather than mid-30s, perhaps showing the famous Hillary ingenuousness.

There is little self-reflection, another Hillary trait, and not much comment about his companions, except the occasional bout of hearty praise. Though I have analysed the New Zealand contribution to Everest climbing over the years, I was surprised to rediscover the level of praise in this book for the late Earle Riddiford, the Wellington lawyer who went with Hillary, Lowe and Ed Cotter on their first expedition to the Himalaya in 1951, and then on the first trip to Everest.

Hillary has been less than complimentary in later accounts, unnecessarily so, overlooking the fact that Riddiford did most of the organising of the 1951 expedition and the Cho Oyu expedition of 1952.

There are a few pages at the beginning of the book about his New Zealand upbringing and mountaineering development. And later there are occasional references to the mountain skills, useful in the Himalaya, he acquired as a New Zealand mountaineer of that period, especially for ice-climbing and river crossing. But the most startling revelation on re-reading High Adventure is how firmly Hillary refers to himself as a British climber on a British expedition.

The Famous Five tone of some of the dialogue reinforces this: "Hey chaps! That's the edge of the Cwm up there; if we can get up that cliff, we're right!" When contemplating the Swiss attempt on Everest in 1952, Hillary hopes that they will do well, but not reach the summit: "I wanted it left to a British party to have a crack at [it] next year." The six British members of the 1951 Everest expedition are differentiated by describing the four climbers other than Riddiford and himself as English.

Perhaps most disappointing to a reader today is the fact that while a British, a Nepalese, an Indian and even a United Nations flag were flown on the summit of Everest, there was no New Zealand flag. And nowhere does Hillary say how proud he was as a Kiwi to be first to the top, or tell of the response back home in New Zealand.

Yet Hillary's account and attitudes were simply reflective of the times he lived in. In the 1950s, New Zealanders were part of a British Empire and Commonwealth family. We were the Kiwi hapu of the British iwi. Britain was often described as Home by pakeha and it was equally natural to describe yourself as British.

There would also have been subtle pressures on Hillary to show proper form when writing the book and to remember that it had been a British expedition and, by the grace of God and the Queen, he had been honoured, as a colonial, to take part.

Showing proper form also extended to the language Hillary used. The book was first published about a year before Peter Jones caused a scandal by uttering on air, "I'm buggered!" after being asked how he felt after scoring the winning try against the Springboks at Eden Park. When Hillary and Tenzing returned to the South Col after climbing Everest, George Lowe was there to greet them. Hillary recounts, "In rough New Zealand slang: I shouted out the good news. Jolly good news it was, too: 'We knocked the bastard off!'."

Allen & Unwin, $29.95