In reply to UKC Articles:
Very interesting stuff. Great to see that photo of the surviving Germans. Although they've obviously mellowed with the passage of almost half a century, it's notable that several of them still have 'The Look'.
It's always seemed to me that (huge generalisation!) Germans are bloody tough - physically and psychologically. In the photo of Hupfauer and Votteler at the summit, they're like a pair of nuclear survivors. It's very eerie indeed.
Having loved the original book, I'm wondering why the tale is being updated. What's the story that's being told now, that 'has not been fully told' before? And why?? Is it simply the longer lens of half a century? If so, fine by me!
The writing is very matter-of-fact. For instance:
'When Haston arrived at the bivouac site, visibly exhausted, Hupfauer gave him the ledge he had carved for himself and spent the night in a sling belay.' Hupfauer would almost certainly have been condemning himself to a night of utter, bloody agony. I'd like to know what Hupfauer thought then and what he thinks now. Until not long before, Haston had been a rival, rather than a team-mate. How strongly fused were the two teams, after Harlin's death? I didn't know that there was a possible split in the German team. Was it mentioned in the original book - or is it part of more recent research on the part of the Gillmans?
Somewhere ('Eiger Direct?' 'In High Places'??) there's a brilliant description of Haston doing his death lead near the summit. It's one of the best descriptions ever of a death lead, where you realise, "Oh f*ck me, this really is it!" It's as though time stops and all of eternity contracts to a single finger or toe hold. There's no sense of before or after. There's just now - a wondering disbelief that you're still on, your body's instinctively doing what it's got to do, the rational part of your mind's screaming, "This is never gonna work!" but a deeper, more primordial part of your being has taken over, you're doing it anyway. And hovering over all, the realisation that each unutterably precious moment is almost certainly the last one.
So much more than the matter-of-fact, "Three lives on an inch of metal."
Haston and Harlin have always seemed such complex, fascinating personalities. I wonder how they appear now to Peter Gillman, with the longer lens of half a century. Hopefully this book tells us.
Mick