Life and Death on Mt. Everest: Sherpas and Himalayan Mountaineering

Note that this author who said this book characterizes the Sherpas as "exploited" said he didn't finish the book -- I doubt he read more than a few sentences b/c there's no way that his claim that the book views Sherpas as "exploited" can be sustained with evidence from the text. Ortner is arguing precisely the opposite point, that the Sherpas were able to resist and transform Himalayan mountaineering, and their role in it, to their advantage. Likewise, it's not a postmodernist book, it's a deliberately realist book, aimed at showing the influences of western climbers, Tibetan monks, and the internal dynamics of Sherpa society on the Sherpa-climber relationships and how they've changed over time.

Although Life and Death on Mt. Everest is a book with an identity crisis, it is nonetheless a fascinating work that should interest armchair adventurers and mountaineers alike. Despite the title, parts of the jacket flap blurb, and even the quotes on the back, Life and Death is really an anthropological examination of mountaineering and the Sherpa-Sahib (author's term) relationship, within the context of the history and culture of both groups. Most of the relatively minor problems with the book arise from the identity crisis; this book can't decide whether it is an academic or a popular work. I suspect, though of course I can't know, that Ortner wrote the book as an academic monograph, and her publishers then altered it superficially to capitalize on the resurgence of Everest interest. The text itself will present a few problems to the lay reader. It has too much information on Ortner's theory, philosophy, and methods of anthropology if it is intended strictly for the layman. The academic-style footnotes are frustrating; Ortner uses copious end-of-text footnotes, mostly to give citations, but also to supply additional information, commentary, and anecdotes. In order to get that extra information, the reader has to refer back and forth constantly, breaking up the flow of the read. If this is intended to be, in whole or in part, a popular work, Ortner should have moved the added-data footnotes to the bottom of the page, and left the citations at the end. Also, the author is a little too inclusive - she includes more about Sherpa religion than is really necessary to provide cultural background; this distracts from the main theme of the book. It would also, of course, be uninteresting to laypeople interested solely in climbing. Finally, Ortner doesn't always cite authors of quotations in the body of the text. That would be fine for academics, but not so for armchair adventurers, who will be familiar with most of the sources and will always want to know who said what. However, these are minor quibbles, really, considering the book's value. Although there are huge numbers of expedition accounts and life-of-a-climber memoirs available, there are relatively few books that examine climbing as a culture. And though Sherpas are mentioned in every book ever written about Himalayan mountaineering, the information is always one-sided and usually one-dimensional. Ortner, in one volume, manages to change both those things; she describes climbing from the outside and Sherpa culture from the inside, and in the process brings valuable insight to both. And despite the author's academic bent, the book is not dense or dull; it's a fast, light read, especially considering its depth.This book is not for readers seeking an adrenaline rush or those with a short attention span, but it is for almost everyone else. Himalayan climbers will benefit from the perspective on both their hobby and their Sherpa partners. Armchair adventurers will finally find the

Ortner's work is rigorous, as in the best of academic work, but is delightfully readable. Apart from some necessary theorising and explanation of methodology, it is very accessible. This is the book to get into when you've had a diet of Boys (mostly) Own Adventures in the Himalayas, and are looking for something a bit chewier. It is in fact a good companion volume for anyone with an interest in the sociology of mountaineering. I recently read Arlene Blum's 'Annapurna: a woman's place' which is an exemplar of both 70s feminism and counterculture. Ortner places the various waves of mountaineering (military style expeditions/macho competitiveness/ beginning of women's involvement / counterculture) in their historical and sociological context, whilst simultaneously placing the Sherpa at the centre of the story.It also tells much about the interaction between mountaineering and Sherpa Buddhism - the changes to that religion and the various responses and attitudes of the Sherpa to the religion.Never does Ortner present the Sherpas as a homogeneous mass. She gives both a good depiction of the big picture, but also incorporates enough post-modernist sensibility to recognise that the Sherpa are not an indistinguishable mass with identical reactions, motivations etc.She also examines seriously Sherpa as the agents of change (eg through strikes) and where Sherpa power vis a vis sahibs lies.People who enjoy this would also enjoy Ed Douglas's 'Chomolungma Sings The Blues'. Douglas is a climbing journalist who, whilst not an academic like Ortner, also has a lot to say about mountaineering and a strong focus on Sherpa involement.

If you're looking for Thereal McCoy in her Sherpa guise, don't bother to read Ortner's 'Life and Death on Mt. Everest'. Turns out she's long gone--or rather, undergoing (nearly) endless cycles of mediated rebirth. On the other hand, if you want a nuanced and balanced analysis of the complex interactions between western mountaineers and a Himalayan people over the last century, then this book is for you. Ortner is the best writer on Sherpa peoples in the English language, and a good theorist to boot. This new book will please not only her familiar anthropologist readers, but an audience of self-critical 'adventurers' as well. It's a nice antidote to much of the mountaineering literature in which Sherpa turn up incidentally (enough about you; let's talk about me!), as well as to romantic positivists who maintain the illusion that there are 'genuine' Sherpa lurking somewhere (ever deeper) in an Himalayan Shangri-la.