Into Thin Air

Into Thin Air ÄÚÈݼò½é

National Bestseller A bank of clouds was assembling on thenot-so-distant horizon, but journalist-mountaineer Jon Krakauer,standing on the summit of Mt. Everest, saw nothing that "suggestedthat a murderous storm was bearing down." He was wrong. The storm,which claimed five lives and left countless more--includingKrakauer's--in guilt-ridden disarray, would also provide theimpetus for Into Thin Air, Krakauer's epic account of the May 1996disaster. By writing Into Thin Air, Krakauer may have hoped toexorcise some of his own demons and lay to rest some of the painfulquestions that still surround the event. He takes great pains toprovide a balanced picture of the people and events he witnessedand gives due credit to the tireless and dedicated Sherpas. He alsoavoids blasting easy targets such as Sandy Pittman, the wealthysocialite who brought an espresso maker along on the expedition.Krakauer's highly personal inquiry into the catastrophe provides agreat deal of insight into what went wrong. But for Krakauerhimself, further interviews and investigations only lead him to theconclusion that his perceived failures were directly responsiblefor a fellow climber's death. Clearly, Krakauer remains haunted bythe disaster, and although he relates a number of incidents inwhich he acted selflessly and even heroically, he seems unable toview those instances objectively. In the end, despite hisevenhanded and even generous assessment of others' actions, hereserves a full measure of vitriol for himself. This updated tradepaperback edition of Into Thin Air includes an extensive newpost* that sheds fascinating light on the acrimonious debatethat flared between Krakauer and Everest guide Anatoli Boukreev inthe wake of the tragedy. "I have no doubt that Boukreev'sintentions were good on summit day," writes Krakauer in thepost*, dated August 1999. "What disturbs me, though, wasBoukreev's refusal to acknowledge the possibility that he made evena single poor decision. Never did he indicate that perhaps itwasn't the best choice to climb without gas or go down ahead of hisclients." As usual, Krakauer supports his points with doggedresearch and a good dose of humility. But rather than continue theheated discourse that has raged since Into Thin Air's denouncementof guide Boukreev, Krakauer's tone is conciliatory; he points mostof his criticism at G. Weston De Walt, who coauthored The Climb,Boukreev's version of events. And in a touching conclusion,Krakauer recounts his last conversation with the late Boukreev, inwhich the two weathered climbers agreed to disagree about certainpoints. Krakauer had great hopes to patch things up with Boukreev,but the Russian later died in an avalanche on another Himalayanpeak, Annapurna I. In 1999, Krakauer received an Academy Award inLiterature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters--aprestigious prize intended "to honor writers of exceptionalaccomplishment." According to the Academy's citation, "Krakauercombines the tenacity and courage of the finest tradition ofinvestigative journalism with the stylish subtlety and profoundinsight of the born writer. His account of an ascent of MountEverest has led to a general reevaluation of climbing and of thecommercialization of what was once a romantic, solitary sport;while his account of the life and death of Christopher McCandless,who died of starvation after challenging the Alaskan wilderness,delves even more deeply and disturbingly into the fascination ofnature and the devastating effects of its lure on a young andcurious mind."