Far, Far the Mountain Peak, by John Masters. New York: The Viking Press, 1957. 471 pages. Price $5.00.

A climber reading a novel about mountaineering finds himself considering it from two angles—as a story, and as a picture of the sport.

This book tells of a man driven by a craving for self-conquest and power over others, and by an insatiable ambition, who finds his special field of action in high mountaineering. As a story, it offers unusual and interesting personal relationships, and plenty of melodramatic action. Critics have been enthusiastic about its literary value—“A magnificent novel,” “With warmth, color and authority,” etc., etc. Readers have put it on the bestseller lists.

The author, who is not himself a climber, begins with a foreward thanking Hedley, Harrer, Ruttledge and Longstaff for their expert advice. With their help he has avoided any conspicuous technical mistakes. But there are points one cannot fail to notice.

Anyone who has seen how the mind typically works at high altitudes is rather surprised by those long, logical, penetrating discussions and meditations about personal philosophies and emotional problems, that take place at 23,000 feet, and up!

More important is the fundamental attitude toward mountains. The plot itself forces the author to emphasize climbing for personal aggrandizement. Although the chief character, who dominates the book, is represented as becoming one of the world’s leading climbers, and although his European and Himalayan ascents manage to be wonderfully authentic and vivid, he has a strange lack. Nowhere do we see him showing any liking for mountains in themselves, or any enjoyment of their presence. Never does he even seem conscious of their existence, as actual physical entities. Through most of the book they are to him just background-scenery—beautiful scenery, generally—for his climbing activities. And when finally he learns the meaning of compassion and humility and human warmth, he decides that “mountaineering consists of people, and only incidentally of mountains.” Yet he calls himself “a mountaineer.” Personally, I found this a readable and exciting novel, but very definitely not the story of a mountaineer.

Elizabeth Knowlton