Alpinisme Sovietque, by A. Tcherepov. Translated from the Russian into French by Paul Sulfourt. Paris: Amiot-Dumont, 1957.

This book’s twofold uniqueness atones for its colorless style. Not only does it illustrate Soviet mountaineering philosophy, but the setting chosen for this portrayal is to western mountaineers one of the least known on earth. This is the Tian Shan, in the heart of Asia. The center of the range, the Khan Tengri massif, was in 1937 and 1938 the object of two strongly backed expeditions led by Professor A. A. Letavet, and the account of these makes up the core of the book.

The first, in 1937, made three major first ascents and at the same time discovered a very high and previously unknown peak which became the object of the 1938 expedition. The latter made what was thought to be an ascent of this new peak, until a wartime aerial survey proved that an adjacent and higher point on the ridge was not only the true summit (appropriately named Victory Peak in 1945), but also the second highest point (7439 meters) in the Soviet Union. Such was the unexplored nature of the Tian Shan until recent years.

The climbs appear to have been of a high order and well executed, under conditions made difficult by the combination of Himalayan altitudes and proximity to the cold of Siberia. Temperatures of —30° F., glaciers extending into the valleys far below the altitude of a Himalayan snowline, and the necessity of attacking the highest peak from the north side, all add credit to the climbers’ successes.

While the story of these successes reflects Russian qualities of courage and determination—and at times philosophical reflection—the Communist influence is always evident. Soviet mountaineering is no end in itself: throughout, the author justifies the climbing efforts as primarily for the sake of science. Mass calisthenics are portrayed against a backdrop of peaks, and Stalin’s portrait is deposited in a summit cairn. A newly climbed mountain is named “Peak of the Twentieth Anniversary of Soviet Communist Youth.” Little mention is made of human doubts or problems. In no case does the author admit a dilemma or indulge in that candid introspection necessary for its communication to the reader. There is self-criticisms of a sort—“Yes, we made a mistake. We’ll have to correct it”—but in this case an apology for the ascent of a major peak in weather so bad that scientific findings were unobtainable, leading the author to complain, “Il n’en reste plus que l’aspect sportif”! Nevertheless, a few episodes are encouraging reminders that even in a Communist country mountaineering can retain some of the aspects which to westerners differentiate a sport from a campaign. A self-denying rescue of an injured companion, occasional references to non-material benefits of the climbs, camaraderie, and even humor, add spice to an otherwise unexciting fare.

Robert H. T. Dodson