Along with Joe Simpson's 'Touching the void', it's a gripping book about disasters on mountains. I was once officially consumed by books about mountaineering and climbing. Part of the fascination is wondering what possesses people to do it. Read 'em. You will not regret it. ( )

I read Into Thin Air in one sitting, staying up all night to finish it; Krakauer is just a captivating writer. I have a hard time understanding how people come away from this book with the impression that Krakauer is self-satisfied, judgmental, or even pleased with his own actions.

Part of what makes the reading so compelling is how well Krakauer conveys the state of near-total physical and mental depletion in which he was operating, not just after the disaster but well before it--particularly the mental fog that is unavoidable in conditions of such low oxygen. This communicates not only his own debilitation but also an understanding of what impossible circumstances everyone involved was working under, and of how easy it would be (and was) for anyone to make seemingly minor mistakes that could (and did) accumulate and lead to disastrous consequences. This makes it hard for me to see a judgmental or self-satisfied attitude in his account. As well, the psychological toll the disaster took on him, particularly the survivor's guilt, is apparent throughout the entire account; in some respects, like his initial confusion about Andy Harris's disappearance and death, he seems in fact unreasonably hard on himself. ( )

Mountaineer and best selling author Jon Krakauer is sent by Outside magazine to join an expedition to Everest and barely leaves with his life. A combination of bad weather, bad luck, and poor judgment ends in a disaster that leaves 12 people dead. It’s a work of reportage that reads like a novel.For years Everest has been open to commercial expeditions that charge a handsome fee to guide people 30, 000 feet to the summit. Mountaineers have been divided on this – some claim that it disrespects the mountain and cheapens the experience, while others see it as a legitimate business opportunity that opens the mountain to a wider adventure seeking public. Does the commercialization have anything to do with the disaster of 1996? Krakauer does not explicitly address this issue, but it’s a sub-text that runs throughout the story. Many of the clients that participated on the various expeditions of that season were not experienced mountaineers and that was certainly a factor. One woman in particular stands out: Sandy Pitman. She , leaving him too fatigued to attend to other duties that might have mitigated the tragic events that followed. Pittman symbolizes the pursuit of Everest for all the wrong reasons. Her vainglory led her there and her high profile gave her special treatment, because of the publicity and money she could generate. Krakeur’s presence also played a role in this. Did the presence of a reporter lead expedition leaders to take risks that they shouldn’t have? This question, like so many others will remain unanswered. Perhaps the biggest, most important question is whether people should attempt to climb the mountain at all. Is climbing Everest an expression of human achievement or an example of hubristic folly? Perhaps there are frontiers that we are not meant to explore, areas where the human footprint becomes a sacrilege against god and nature.

▾Book descriptions ( )

This review is to help people understand the differences between the paperback version of Mr. Krakauer's book and the 'illustrated' version. (So much has been written about the content, that it hardly seems worth putting down my own paltry thoughts about Jon's Everest adventure.)

The first difference, of course, is the size. The 'illustrated' version is 9.1 x 8.8 inches, and is about 1 inch thick. Hardback, the book weighs 3.5 pounds, which is to say it's pretty hefty.

The cover, unfortunately, is not all that attractive. It's white with a fabric texture, and adorning it is one of Randy Rackliff's images. Unlike the other abstracts by this artist that appear in black and white at the beginning of the chapters in all the different versions of this book, the cover art is in blue and is raised. Personally, I think something else should have been chosen, or else the image should have been much larger.

Buts lets look inside. Between the covers there are some wonderful photos. Some are small pictures of various climbers -- old and new. And some are panoramic vistas. None are in color.

I have some thoughts about that. First, given the number of photos, it just might have been prohibitively expensive to have color. And then again, given the fact that snow is white and mountains are gray and brown, it might have taken away from the beauty and staggeringly menacing rockfaces, to have guys in dayglo orange outfits standing in the foreground and snagging the attention of your eyes. In any case, what you should take away from this part of the review is that there is no color.

So how many black and white photos are there? Generally speaking there is at least, on average, one per page. There are pictures of men such as Andrew Irvin and Edward Norton, and there are pictures such as that of the southface of Annapoura. In addition there are some maps and charts.

As far as I was able to ascertain all text-content was the same.

All in all, I thought the pictures were important to my appreciation of the story that was told. It's one thing to imagine what such and such camp looked like, and another to see it. If I was to own a copy of this book for my home library, then this is the version I'd be likely to buy. (I compared library versions). As far as a gift, I don't know. While it's a great book and the pictures are great, the cover is just unimpressive. So I suppose it would depend on the friend.

Pam T~

Lawson, J. (1997). Into thin air (Book Review). School Library Journal, 43, 150. Retrieved December 1, 2009, from Article Citation database.

Scott, A. (1997). Into thin air (Book Review). The New York Times Book Review, 102, 11-12. Retrieved December 1, 2009, from Article Citation database.