Abstract
Harriet Tuckey, Everest–The First Ascent: The Untold Story of Griffith Pugh, the Man Who Made It Possible, London: Rider, 2013. 432 pages. £20.00
“Under history, memory and forgetting.
Under memory and forgetting, life.
But writing a life is another story.”
Biographers create historical figures from a diverse palette of available resources—historical records, personal accounts—each influenced by the passing of time. Legends are also embellished by the biographer's agenda that augments, denigrates, or fictionalizes the truth about the person and their era. Thus, the eager reader of history has only tenuous anchors upon which to rely. Rarely are biographies written by those who have personally known the subject, especially ones whose agenda is pure discovery.
Everest, the First Ascent is a remarkable biography, written by Harriet Tuckey, the daughter of Griffith Pugh who is the subject of the work. Griff Pugh was a prominent British physiologist whose impassioned desire to know how the human body works in extreme environments led to improbable research that eventually set the standard for those who venture to extreme altitudes, cold seas, and Olympic venues. Pugh's discoveries, which we now take for granted, on the other hand, had difficult passage to achieve acceptance, hindered in part by his own independent and eccentric personality. His life and times, as recounted by Tuckey, are a reflection of the long journey to acceptance of his work.
But there is much more.
Tuckey's biography is a complex and multi-dimensional attempt to discover her father whom she only knew in part. Her quest to discover her father was catalyzed in 1993, the 40th anniversary of the successful first ascent of Mt. Everest by the famed British team. At a gathering sponsored and attended by Queen Elizabeth, one of the surviving expedition members, Dr. Michael Ward, a climber-physician on the 1953 team in his brief address gave full credit to the success of climbing Everest to the work done by Pugh. His work helped the team understand training, acclimatization, nutrition, and hydration, as well as equipment, all important elements in ascending to extreme altitude. Prior to that time, Pugh's work had received little credit and much derision by the academic establishment and even by the original team itself. The revelation of her father's contribution to the expedition astounded Tuckey who was present at the event and impassioned her to find out who her father was. To her as a teenager, she “had regarded him as selfish, egocentric, completely preoccupied with his own interests: a man with no time for everyday life, no interest in other people's needs, and no time for his children.” (p. 85). More later.
First and foremost, Everest, the First Ascent is a very well-written and scholarly piece of history, well worth its printing, if for that reason alone. Over an 8-year period, Tuckey assiduously sought every bit of available recorded history from personal letters, archives, published research, and interviews with surviving associates, colleagues, and climbers. With her writing prowess, she synthesized a compelling history that stands next to other great biographies. The work is well-documented with extensive notes and a bibliography which make an excellent read unto themselves.
A substantial portion of the book is pure history that reveals previously hidden aspects of the many ventures in which Pugh partook (e.g., 1952 Cho Oyu Expedition, 1953 Everest, 1960-1 Silver Hut, 1968 Mexico City Olympics). The difficulty Pugh had in pursuing his work and the personalities involved make what he did even more laudable.
As one who is a generation or more after Pugh, and as one whose passion about high altitude and adventure has some parallels, I was astounded about what I had mistakenly taken for granted about his work. The emergence and acceptance of his science underwent a breech delivery. The establishment, both scientific and mountaineering, rejected Pugh's theses that understanding of human physiology was necessary for survival and success at extreme altitude. They also openly fought it or at best gave his projects tacit and hidden recognition. This resistance was a revelation to me who grew up as a high altitude physiologist in an era of enthusiastic acceptance and support of work that probably was in many ways an offshoot of Pugh's.
What was it about Pugh and/or the times that resulted in this kind of derision? First, science was felt not to be relevant to climbing. Second, Pugh's persona was counterproductive and prodded the old guard's rejection of him and his work. Therefore, these two factors worked against him and are not just historic resistance to his science. Pugh's personality itself may have been part of his failure to achieve much more. Tuckey gathers endless accounts of his independent, contrary, withdrawn personality and eccentricities, which were unfortunately seasoned with an obstinance, severe temper, and uncensored mouth. One can not help but wonder how Pugh's work would have evolved if he had been collegial and nurturing to his colleagues.
His resistance to convention and stubborn independence prevented him from pursuing accepted routes to scholarly recognition, which further alienated him from the halls of traditional academics, advancement, and leadership. It seemed like those in higher positions with less enthusiasm, vision, and brilliance were intimidated by Pugh and openly kept him from acceptance and opportunity.
Tuckey recounts numerous occasions where others (Eric Shipton, Lord John Hunt, Edmund Hillary) never even mentioned Pugh's presence and contribution to the success of the endeavors in which they basked in the glory.
Pugh, on the other hand, was in his element when he was in charge and when he worked with others who respected him. His letters “reveal an irrepressible excitement at each new experience and above all an intense curiosity about everything around him.” (p. 57)
The best example was the 1960–1961 Silver Hut Expedition where he designed a project to evaluate human acclimatization over several months to an altitude of over 19,000 feet at the Mingbo La in the Himalaya to test the hypothesis that this prolonged exposure would benefit climbers in a subsequent attempt to climb peaks at extreme altitude. In spite of conflict with Edmund Hillary, the leader of the expedition, Pugh stood up to his goals, orchestrated a sharp team of young scientists to gather unique and ground-breaking data that set the standard for years to come. Even then he was given little recognition by Hillary or the establishment, but he spawned future giants in the field of physiology, John West, Jim Milledge, and Sukhamay Lahiri—the greatest tribute to a mentor. In fact, 20 years later, these three spearheaded another very successful field research endeavor (the 1981 American Medical Research to Everest), sometimes referred to as the “son of the Silver Hut.” As a young boy, I had read about the Silver Hut in National Geographic but had little notion that in 1976 I would spent 2 days at the site of the Silver Hut, dreaming but not realizing that I would be fortunate to be on the 1981 trip. I was aware of Pugh even back then.
After the Silver Hut, Pugh was involved in and germinated many more studies looking into human performance in cold and high altitude, and it was a joy for me to imagine the enthusiasm he had for such studies and the undeniable success of much of his work.
But Tuckey's biography goes far beyond his professional life. She was his daughter, and this biography grows in its dimensions as she deftly weaves her quest to discover who Pugh was as a person—his inscrutable contradictions, self-destructive behavior, fiery contrariness, anti-social behavior, fierce, unproductive independence, blatant disregard for others, abuse of his family (wife and children alike), infidelities to them, and inability to be intimate or share himself. Much of this part about Pugh, especially coming from a daughter who merely wanted recognition and approval, let alone love, was very painful to read. But Tuckey does a brilliant job revealing her father's faults while seeking his salvation in her mind.
One poignant episode occurs when Pugh took his family to Rhos y Gilwen in Wales, a place of his childhood where he had been able to run free until he was sent off to boarding school. During their family holiday visit, Pugh never even told them that he had joyfully spent a precious part of his childhood there and that the place had meant so much to him. That astounded me.
There are many passages describing his behavior with his wife, Doey, and the children that made me cringe. At the end, I am still not sure what a conversation with him would have been like.
So how does Tuckey navigate this aspect of her father and is she successful coming to peace with these mysteries and contradictions? The last chapter is a fit ending and a summit for the reader to pursue. I will just say that reading this book was not only intensely compelling for me as someone who, in like fashion, has spent much time with my mind “in the clouds” but also as a reader of history that is clearly and honestly written.
Harriet Tuckey has “memory and forgetting” but skillfully negotiates the improbable task of writing “a life.”