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What We’re Reading – The Soul in Cycling

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Lanterne Rouge: The Last Man in the Tour de France by Max Leonard

“Normal people feel an attachement to a guy that is struggling through the Tour just to survive in the race, because that’s what normal people on bikes would do. They’re not superstars like the guys at the front end of the peloton. It’s equally as hard for the guys at the front, but they get results. The guys at the back are suffering like hell just to get to the finish.” – Phil Liggett

It took the COVID pandemic for me to return to the bicycle after over a decade away. For the most part I’ve ridden alone. On the occasions I’ve ridden with other, more experienced riders I’ve regularly been outpaced and out-climbed. Really as a late convert to cycling I’ve aged past the era of optimism for achieving greatness in the sport. I don’t identify with the champions and the feats of prowess on two wheels. No, I’m just happy to be in the peloton. 

Foolishly I signed up for a race less than a month after purchasing my first road bike last year. Unsurprisingly, my 15-20 mile Sunday morning rides were inadequate preparation for the Southwold-Roubaix. After 44 miles I absolutely ran out of gas. “Bonked,” I later learned, is the correct term. Too bad that the course was 57 miles and only my pride carried me to the finish.

Which brings me to another term I’ve whole-heartedly wrapped my arms around: Lanterne Rouge. On the railroad a red lantern is hung on a train’s caboose to signal the station master the last car of the train. It’s also a signal that no cars had broken free and remained stranded on the track. Lanterne Rouge has also been adopted by the press of the Tour de France to describe the last rider to complete the Tour without abandoning the race or being eliminated for missing the time cutoff. In this term I identify with the mentality of a rider certain of missing victory, but still persisting to the finish line. 

Max Leonard, a British author and cycliste, explores the history and meaning of the lanterne rouge. As Leonard reveals, lanterne rouge does indeed capture the heroic hopelessness of the last rider, but it also the complicated relationship between sportsmanship, capitalism, honor and ignominy. In his book he tells stories of twelve lanternes rouges and the different facets their tale reveals about the term. 

 Each chapter offers something unique, so I’d be doing a disservice if I tried to summarize them. However, I can’t emphasize enough how much I appreciate Leonard’s approach to the complexity of the lanterne rouge and overlaying it with the complexity of life and one’s legacy.

Higher Calling: Cycling’s Obsession With Mountains by Max Leonard

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses . . . then, I account it high time to get to altitude as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flouish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the bicycle.” – Max Leonard

This is the second book from Max Leonard that I’ve read and the second book that combines historical context with the philosophy of cycling. Needless to say, I’m a fan. In these pages he takes the reader into higher altitudes and teaches, philosophizes, and researches the draw of cycling up (and down) mountains. Historically, he decides to narrow his narrative to the peculiarities of the French Alps, specifically the Cime de la Bonette. 

Competition is a central component of cycling. The human desire to pass another at the finish line or to challenge oneself to improve one’s performance are strong motivators each time someone gets into the saddle. However, when the incline increases the mountain takes over. A man and bike are all set against the unforgiving pull of gravity and the force to overcome it. Despite all his training and experience cycling up mountains Leonard admits that it never gets any easier – he only gets faster. 

In professional racing, adding mountainous elements came about as an evolution. Early 20th Century roads through the mountain passes were primitive and undeveloped. Often unpaved, mired in mud, exposing riders to frigid temperatures and brutal windchill on descents. Adding Alpine stages to the Tour de France and Giro d’Italia took daring, salesmanship, and suffering. It’s no wonder heroic exploits in the mountains are fondly remembered and the routes themselves revered within the cycling community.

In addition to the history of categorized climbs in professional cycling races, Leonard introduced me to the concept of Everesting – the endeavor to gain elevation equivalent to the summit of Mount Everest – even at the pain of cycling the same hill 68 times in a day. He discusses the science of training at higher altitudes, the natural and artificial ways to elevate oxygen in red blood cells. He also reflects on the military history behind the construction of concrete bunkers high above the French-Italian border and the brutal fighting in the frozen terrain of the Dolomites between the Italian and Austro-Hungarian soldiers during World War I. 

Leonard brings the seasonal life of the highest cycling routes to full life. He interviews shepherds witnessing the decline of their traditional ways. He joins the work crews as they cut through a winter’s worth of snow and ice to re-open the mountain passes in time for spring. And he speaks of the Bonette as if it were an old friend. Reliable, strong, and always ready to entertain a challenger or two.

Le Secret de Gino Bartali by Kike Ibáñez

“Gino était un cycliste de ceux d’avant, qui fumaient et buvaient du vin, de ceux qui avaient appartenu au cyclisme épique, au cyclisme réservé aux héros.”

“Gino was a cyclist of those before, who smoked and drank wine, of those who had belonged to epic cycling, to cycling reserved for heroes.”

I stepped into a bookstore in Marseille to find some relief from the rain on a cool autumn day. Among the shelves and stacks of colofrul books the soft pink cover of Kike Ibáñez’s Le Secret de Gino Bartali stood out. I can’t remember the last time I read a comic book or graphic novel, but the alluring title pulled me right in. 

Gino Bartali was one of Italy’s greatest cyclists and his rivalry with Fausto Coppi is legendary. However, this book dwells briefly on Barali’s cycling credentials on its way to telling a story of his resistance activity during the Second World War. Gino Bartali used his cycling fame to ride between Florence (Firenza) and Assise where he transported falsified documents to help Italian Jews escape the fascist regime of Mussolini. 

The drawings are beautifully done and the language simple enough for the novice French linguist. Not all of cycling’s history is often written in the great races, and this short book is an excellent addition to any library.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Book Reviews, Cycling, Mind

What We’re Reading – Cycling History

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At the beginning of the year I dug out my old bicycle to add some variety to my fitness routine. I hadn’t ridden in over a decade and it needed significant maintenance to become roadworthy again. In the ensuing years since making that purchase I’ve developed a dependency on reading and research when I take up an activity. I can’t simply do a thing. I have to mentally walk the corners of a room before I can sit down in it. Whether it’s a historical topic, cooking technique, or a new sport – I have to contextualize it before I can appreciate it. 

In this familiar pattern I approached the world of cycling as I began pedaling through the late-English winter cold and rainy spring. I don’t have the background knowledge (yet)  for understanding the sport’s statistics, rattling off names of famous cyclists, or identifying key moments in cycling history. At this stage the best I can do is appreciate a good story. And there are some good stories from cycling’s history which I have found in the following books:

The Monuments: The Grit and Glory of Cycling’s Greatest One-day Races


by Peter Cossins

The Monuments: The Grit and Glory of Cycling's Greatest One-Day Races by Peter Cossins

“Paris-Roubaix is the last test of folly that cycle sports puts before its participants. . . It’s a savage race, but not one for brutes.” – Jacques Goddet, race director, 1968

“The Monuments”. What great branding! It’s powerful wording. It creates exclusivity. And it keeps the same five one-day races perpetually on cycling’s global stage. Peter Cossins writes a straight-up history of these five races (Milan-San Remo, Tour of Flanders, Paris-Roubaix, Leige-Bastogne-Leige, and the Tour of Lombardy) in five distinct sections. It’s not a page turner, but it’s great material for anyone wanting to learn about each race in detail. Best read throughout the racing year. Cossins does discuss some of the great rivalries between cyclists in different eras in the context of these races (Coppi-Bartali, Merckx-Gimondi, etc.) which can add greater context to a wider knowledge of cycling history. 

The appeal of The Monuments, especially for me as a novice cyclist, is the unpredictability of each of these races. There is still the feeling that any entrant has a legitimate chance to win. In stage races cyclists and teams can adjust tactics based on daily changes in terrain, weather, or mechanical issues. Monument races are less forgiving. A crash,  mechanical failure, or incredible luck can eliminate a favorite from contention and/or place an unknown at the front of the peloton in the blink of an eye. Not to mention, these races generally are designed to be extremely difficult to compensate for their single-day duration. (Riding on bone-jarring cobblestones is a feature sought after in several of these races) These are races of endurance, luck, and grit unlike any other on the racing calendar. 

If I had to pinpoint my favorite part of each section were the histories of each of the races in their earliest years. From the 1890s until the 1920s the world of cycling was a wild and crazy place. The roads of the time had incredibly variable quality to them, the races weren’t on closed courses and mixed with train service and commuters, and riders dealt with all sorts of unpredictable factors that don’t bother modern-day races. Especially the spectators in those days. Fans were very active participants. They pushed riders up hills, conspired to block rivals, threw tacks and causing punctures, and helped with repairs. This is bananas stuff and super interesting! None of these races were destined to be the great events they are today and I find it fascinating how the races’ organisers clawed their way onto the racing calendar, into respectability, and into history.

Gironimo! Riding the Very Terrible 1914 Tour of Italy

by Tim Moore

Gironimo! Riding the Very Terrible 1914 Tour of Italy by Tom Moore

Dies slowly he who transforms himself into the slave of habit, repeating every day the same itineraries. 

Fabio’s head nodding significantly besides mine.

Dies slowly he who does not risk the certain for the uncertain. To go toward a dream that has been keeping him awake.

How very moved I was to think that a free spirited young offroader like Fabio should look up to me, suburban, middle-aged me, as the standard bearer of flinty-eyed solo adventure. Moved and ashamed.  – Tim Moore, while reading Dies Slowly by Martha Medeiros 

Tim Moore is not a historian. He’s a traveler, writer, and a Brit. When I look through the catalog of books he’s authored I have two complimentary thoughts. One, I’d like to have a beer with this guy. Two, how do I save enough money to embark on an adventure scheme of Moore-ian style? He’s the type of guy that has driven across the United States in a Ford Model T and walked the 500 miles of the Camino de Santiago with a donkey, written books about the experience, and financed his life with these adventures. For this book he restored/rebuilt a century-old bicycle and donned period-accurate clothing to ride the route of the 1914 Giro d’Italia – a race famously so difficult and misfortuned that only eight of 81 riders finished all eight stages – considered by many to be the most difficult stage race of all time.

This book is less about cycling history and more travel writing. Moore spends a good five chapters bringing the reader through the process of getting a pre-World War I bike functionally rideable and the rationale behind his scheme. He meets, and conveys to the reader, anekdotes from all across his journey of those that helped him build and repair his bike, and those that shook their head at him along the way. It’s filled with British cheekiness and observations about continental Europe finally tuned from a career of writing. It’s worth the read even if you don’t care much for the actual cycling in it.

Moore does have a fair number of stories and information about the 1914 Giro d’Italia interspersed with his modern-day tale. It’s impossible for him to avoid it when retracing the steps of such an infamous race. The cyclists of the day struggled along the entire length of the Italian peninsula, attacked several 400 kilometer stages, and battled the limitations of their equipment. It was a harrowing ordeal for them and I’m glad Tim Moore came along to remind us.

Riding in the Zone Rouge: The Tour of the Battlefields 1919 – Cycling’s Toughest-Ever Stage Race

by Tom Isitt

Riding in the Zone Rouge. The Tour of the Battlefields 1919: Cyclings Toughest-ever Stage Race by Tom Isitt

But with a 2,000 km route in seven stages across the war-torn roads and battlefields of the Western Front in horrific weather a mere couple of months after hostilities ceased, the Circuit des Champs de Bataille took suffering on a bike to a whole new level.

This book is the perfect combination of the first two books and I can’t endorse it enough. I had the privilege of listening to Tom Isitt give a talk to the Western Front Association about this book before I read it. Like Tim Moore, Tom Isitt set out to ride the route of a horrendously difficult race from cycling’s earliest days. He chose the Circuit des Champs de Bataille, a seven-stage race that occured mere months after the conclusion of the First World War. The French organizers, after a hasty reconnaissance, planned the route to pass through Luxemburg, Belgium, and France – especially the recently reacquired provinces of Alsace and Lorraine. The race would befall misfortune after misfortune as extreme unseasonable weather tormented the riders and roads pulverized by four years of warfare hobbled race times.

Isitt rode along a route that best approximated the original race route, accounting for modern highways and pleasanter alternatives. He also made several diversions to tour different battlefields and sites of significance. He didn’t attempt to recreate the conditions or the hardships of the original race, but he designed an itinerary that gave him a sense of history and place. In this way, along with extensive research on the cycling and cyclists of the era, he was able to construct a narrative that successfully weaves his personal story, relevant cycling history, and World War I historical context into the story of the Circuit des Champs de Bataille, region by region. 

This comes together perfectly in the chapters on stages four (Amiens to Paris) and five (Paris to Bar Le Duc) of the race which crossed the most devastated battlefields of the war. As Isitt points out, many of the riders had seen service in the military, some on the front lines, and the passage of the race through some of these areas must have been emotionally taxing in addition to the severe physical hardships of the race itself. These are heartbreaking and beautiful sections on the devastation of the war and the national trauma it caused, and the individual sufferings of the riders.

Le Petit Journal, the race’s organizing newspaper, hailed the race as a triumph at its conclusion. Such high acclaim was underserved, though. Incessant rain forced stops every few miles to clear mud and dirt from chains and sprockets. The roads chosen were so bad that time cutoffs for each stage were abandoned as riders routinely sheltered overnight (sometimes in unfilled trenches). Artillery shell craters caused multiple crashes and riders to withdraw. Unseasonable weather in the Vosges Mountains forced riders to carry their bikes over their heads in waist-deep snow for several kilometers. It took superhuman determination to endure. As Tom Isitt pointed out in his talk, the motivation of prize money, equal to four year’s wages in the post-war economy, and riders “off their head” on cocaine and amphetamines had a lot to do with anyone finishing the race at all. 

Amazingly 21 of 87 entrants finished the race – including my new personal hero, Louis Ellner. (Louis Ellner, an isole rider with a routière bicycle, finished each stage 8 to 74 hours after the stage winner, but never abandoned the race!) There’s a lot packed into this 280 page book that can appeal to everyone. It is prolific in nerdy history for someone like myself, athletic tales of achievement for my cyclist friends, and quality storytelling for anyone that likes being emotionally connected to the narrative. Again, it’s a phenomenal read and it already has me plotting my own cycle route in Western France.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases.

Book Reviews, Mind

What We’re Reading This Month – August 2020

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This past month has been a busy one. As society emerges from months of isolation the demands of stir-crazy families, a modern economy, and extended work hours in our day jobs has drastically cut down on the available reading time. I’ve turned to a few audiobooks during my commute to feed my appetite, but have still managed to read a few pages each night from a trusty hardbound, real-life book. This month’s reading selection features a mix of what was on-hand and what was easy to consume in these days.


The centerpiece for my reading this month has been The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson. Since last autumn I have been eagerly awaiting its release. There are few authors I’ve bothered to set up a Google Alert for, and he is one of them. For Father’s Day this year my wife purchased it for me and which fit neatly into the mental space I’ve made for the 80th Anniversary of the Battle of Britain.

The Splendid and the Vile by Erik Larson

“And so, with family turmoil, civic trauma, and Hitler’s deputy falling from the sky, the first year of Churchill’s leadership came to an end. Against all odds, Britain stood firm, its citizens more emboldened than cowed. Somehow, through it all, Churchill had managed to teach them the art of being fearless.”

In true Larson style, he weaves the historical narrative of the Battle of Britain, which began this month in 1940, with that of the human experiences of Winston Churchill, his family and closest associates in his first year as prime minister. Historical figures, especially the giants like Churchill, can be so famous that we view them as a two-dimensional version of themselves. Larson’s true skill is drawing out primary sources – letters, diaries, speeches, etc. – from the unlikely corners of history to inflate these 2D oversimplifications into three-dimensional, flesh and blood people with human foibles, emotions, and insecurities when the outcome of monumental events were uncertain. 

Furthermore, Larson reveals a wartime England that still clung to the normalities of life. Air raid sirens, shelter wardens, and rubble have been well-captured by history, but it was also a time when night clubs stayed open, debutantes were still presented to society, and the love-struck sought flowers and chocolate to express their affections. Probably the most memorable chapter for me describes the night of Queen Charlotte’s dance of 8 March 1941 and the death of jazz band leader Kenrick “Snackhips” Johnson as bombs rained down on central London and exploded into packed hotels, night clubs, and shopping districts. 

The Splendid and the Vile showed that Londoners didn’t simply turtle into a year-long shell only to emerge when the Nazi’s turned their military attention to invading the Soviet Union in May of 1941 True, many nights were spent sleeplessly awaiting the Luftwaffe, fighting fires, and digging the wounded and the dead from the rubble. But other nights were spent with lovers, dancing in clubs, courtship, and adultery. Churchill’s family enjoyed the privileges of the privileged society and spent weekends in the country in comfortable homes and exceeding their ration coupons. It was an exciting time to be alive for the English and the prospect of nightly death sharpened their appreciation for life. Larson magnificently portrays how life went on in England through the stories of Churchill’s daughter, Mary Churchull, and private secretary, John Colville who had their own stories of love and disappointment.

WIth this book I have renewed appreciation for Larson’s writing and added respect for the English spirit as they persevered with living and fighting when the second world war seemed the most hopeless and bleak.

Fighter: The True Story of the Battle of Britain by Len Deighton

“The Luftwaffe, hitherto a tactical supplement to the blitzkrieg, a force that had taken orders from the army, was about to take upon itself a strategic role. Moreover, it was asked to create a strategy, and then to translate that strategy into day-to-day tactical objectives for its bombers and fighters. The experience of its staff officers was not equal to this task.”

It’s been in my head for months to learn about the Battle of Britain while living in England. 2020 marks the 80th anniversary of the start of the battle and there are several events across the country to mark England’s success in defeating the Luftwaffe’s attempts to crush the Royal Air Force and England’s fighting spirit. I’ve sung the praises of Len Deighton for years. He’s one of my father’s favorite authors and his Cold War spy thrillers are some of the most enjoyable reads I have in the past five years. He’s also had success writing alternative histories – which have been converted into a television series. Deighton has also written some histories, and with his storyteller’s pen, has done an excellent job of making them readable and digestible

While he tells a remarkable narrative, Deighton does analyze the Battle of Britain beyond the mythical heroic Royal Air Force pilots and their advanced Spitfire and rugged Hurricane fighter aircraft. He delves into British aircraft production, the Luftwaffe staff shortcomings, German short sightedness. Probably the greatest feat Deighton reveals is the immense difficulty and achievement in the logistical balancing needed to build, employ, and maintain the Royal Air Force Fighter Command at a time when wooden-framed, cloth-covered aircraft were still in the British inventory. It’s a quick read and the way he organized his sections I was able to read a little at a time without having to commit to a full study of the battle.

The Lemon Tree: An Arab, a Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East by Sandy Tolan

“I struggle for your rights despite my fears. But your rights have to be balanced against our needs for survival. That is why you cannot be satisfied. For you, every viable solution will always be lacking in justice. In a peace plan, everybody will have to do with less than they deserve.”

In a departure from the Battle of Britain theme, I downloaded the audiobook of The Lemon Tree for my commute into work. In a vary Erik Larons-esque style, Tolan weaves the long history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict with the story of a single home built by an Arab family and later occupied by an Jewish family. The home, and the lemon tree that was planted in the garden, become the focal point for all of the contradictions, injustices, and mutual hope that characterizes the evolving conflict. It’s a story looking backwards, not a solution looking forward, but it’s greatest feature is the empathy a reader can gain for both sides. 

I listened to this as an audiobook and hearing the stories orally added an additional layer of hurt to the injustice.

The 33 Strategies of War by Robert Greene

“The prudent man might seem cold, his rationality sucking pleasure out of life. Not so. Like the pleasure-loving gods on Mount Olympus, he has the perspective, the calm detachment, the ability to laugh, that comes with true vision, which gives everything he does a quality of lightness – these traits comprising what Nietzsche calls the ‘Apollonian ideal.” . . . Odysseus loved adventure; no one was better at the experience of pleasure. He was simply more reasonable, more balanced, less vulnerable to his own emotions and moods, and he left less tragedy and turmoil in his wake. . .  . In a world where people are increasingly incapable of thinking consequentially, more animal than ever, the practice of grand strategy will instantly elevate you above others.”

Finally, the end of my COVID-induced physical separation and work absence has given way to a rushing return to the office. A backlog of emails, papers, and activities to coordinate has eaten into the reading time I previously enjoyed. I turned to Robert Greene for a daily dose of professionally thought-provoking material. Having finished The 48 Laws of Power a few months prior I decided to pick up another of his works, this time The 33 Strategies of War. Each “law” is packaged into a chapter of historical case studies, analysis, related parables, and cautionary counter-examples. In short, Greene gives a readers’ digest of political-military content for the busy and the rushed. I tend to read a few pages each morning over coffee, allowing my brain to engage with the material as the caffeine stimulates my central nervous system.

Geared toward the non-military professional, The 33 Strategies of War employs lessons of past conflict for common usage. There may be some disappointment for those that view their industry as cutt-throat and hope to find practical advice on wielding the knife. It’s not prescriptive for action, but encourages the reader to think with a clear vision. 

Don’t expect to become a new Napoleon after reading this work, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself with a more ruthless inner monologue in your daily interactions.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases.

Book Reviews, Mind

What We’re Reading This Month – June 2020

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My father doesn’t buy antiques. He always says that “antique” is a synonym for “overpriced.” What he does do is attend auctions, estate sales, and the like to find bargains before they get snatched up and resold by antique dealers. I’ve been to a few of the country auctions with him and seen him in his element. He’ll take his measured steps through the items, hands held loosely behind his back, gazing down like an eagle on a warm updraft. If he sees something of interest he’ll pick it up and look it over. If he’s really interested he’ll call out “Hey, Andy! . . . look at this” Drawing me closer to inspect. More often than not he’ll put the item back and walk away. If he’s still thinking about it in ten minutes he’ll go back for another look. It’s how he plays the game.

He doesn’t buy many items, but when he does they are always a steal. Typically, the auctions he goes to require you remove to your purchase within 24 hours. That’s a limiting factor. He’s seen solid oak armoires and giant kitchen hutches go for pittance. He’d probably have several dining rooms worth of furniture if he had a big truck and the strength to shoulder it all. It’s the boxes of books that he goes for. Sometimes he buys enough to outfit a bookstore in a single evening. He’d pick out what he wanted and donate the rest to his town’s library. In the end he pays mere pennies for the books he keeps in his library. He’s a master of his craft.

Last month he sent me one of those auction books. It arrived in the mail with a short note, the torn dust jacket tucked gently into an envelope. Worn out by over 70 years of existence. The pages are yellow and heavy, with a strong smell of decay. In the letter he explained how the author’s name had drawn his eye. James Hilton. Most famously author of Goodbye, Mr Chips, which was turned into a Hollywood movie in the 1960s. After reading this lesser-known work, and seeing his pencil ticks at the edge of some pages, I know exactly why he sent it on to me. 

So Well Remembered - James Hilton

“Because, the English, after all, are a race of eccentrics. They don’t think it’s odd that people should be odd. And they always bear in mind the possibility that the lunatic view might, after all, be right. That’s what makes them tolerant of their enemies.” 

So Well Remembered is a window into a different era. As a novel, it does not aspire to create a fantastical world with which the characters live in. They live and act in early-twentieth century England, before the world ever heard of nuclear weapons just as it was. James Hilton describes a pre-modern England when time is measured in seasons and small European wars are almost as predictable. His writing style is very different from most living authors. The first thirty pages are a single day, a single frame of mind, and an intimate conversation that takes twenty pages to unfold. He captures the easiness with which someone sits in a chair, with the inner dialogue when trying to impress, and the slow realization that one’s world is being turned upside down. It’s the title’s day, so well remembered by the protagonist. That’s how the book begins and eases into a story of a man’s life, and how life changes that man.

George Boswell’s life brings forth so many lessons about love and marriage, lifetime achievement and determination, failure and resiliency. Hilton’s main characters are complex, beautifully flawed people shaped by their respective families’ pasts and unique upbringing. They are interesting and I couldn’t help but feel sympathy as the moments of triumph turned sour or best laid plans came undone. The collective interactions of the people that come in and out of Boswell’s life left plenty of room for me to be contemplative.

I never would have picked this up on my own. I probably never would have even known of its existence if not for my father. He’s been reflective during these COVID times, archiving old letters from his father, and now reading novels triggering his nostalgia. I can tell he wanted to pass on some of the ideas captured in this novel, unclouded by the sensationalism and immediacy of present times. I understand him just a little bit better now and how the thinking of a different time shaped his perspective on today. 

The Gun - C.S. Forester

“And the gun stood there with a faint wisp of smoke still trickling from its muzzle, immense, imposing, huge. It almost looked as if it were filled with contempt for the little marionettes of men who capered round it, little things whose lives could be measured, at the best, in scores of years, and who were quite incapable unaided of hurling death across five hundred yards of valley.”

I began reading The Gun as background research to another vignette I’m writing. It’s the source material for a Cary Grant, Sophia Loren, and Frank Sinatra film titled The Pride and The Passion. I had seen the film once. Long ago, back in the early days of cable television when anything and everything was played to fill air time, I watched it in our south Michigan living room. Like the movie, The Gun is a story set in the Napoleonic Peninsular Wars of Spain. Published in 1933, the novella only has one main character – a bronze, eighteen pounder cannon – 18 pounds being the size of the cannonball it could fire – a mammoth cannon in any age. The war in Spain was a brutal one. Napolean’s puppet king couldn’t quell the Spanish despite defeating the regular army in the field. It dragged on as a series of small wars against insurgent bands. “War” in Spanish translates to “guerra”; and this type of war in Spain became known as guerrilla, literally “small war” because of the lack of large, set-piece battles. The men and women that fought small wars can be called guerillas or guerrilleros. While the outsized cannon has devastating potential for those who could wield it, the guerrilleros seem cursed by its presence.

C.S. Forester writes a tightly written story where human life is local, simple, and short. Names are inconsequential and the suffering of men is commonplace. I’ve highlighted many passages, noting the horrible conditions of war and the easy deaths many suffered. Passages like are representative of this constant themes (note: el Billbanito is the name of a guerrilla leader in the novella):

“The men did not die. They cursed el Bilbanito, they cursed the gun, and the cattle, but they lived. During this period el Bilbanito slept more securely than before; he knew that mutiny breeds in idleness, not in hardship or hard work. The men might curse, complain, grumble, but they were secretly proud of their efforts. There was a thrill in looking back down a seemingly endless mountain side and in knowing that they had dragged a gun all the way up it. Unremitting toil of the most exacting nature had always been the destiny of those peasants even in peace time, and now in war their labour was made more attractive for them because each man wore a plume of cock’s feathers in his hat and belonged to the noted guerrillero band of el Bilbanito, which was soon to sweep the plains of Leon by the aid of the gun.”

There are no heroes for the reader other than the cannon. Unlike formulaic war stories of action, heroism, and climactic victory, Forester provides a flat narrative that allows the reader more reflection on the real face of war – much as he probably intended when he wrote this in the aftermath of World War I.

Wind, Sand, and Stars - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“We must throw out bridges into the darkness.”

I’ve got quite a few books on my nightstand that are so dense that I couldn’t split them with an axe. I’ve attempted to chip away at them night after night, but sometimes it feels like whittling with a dull knife. I picked up Wind,Sand, and Stars as a reprieve. Saint-Expuréy’s writing is poetic and smooth. He delves into camaraderie, the magic of flight, and the mystique of the desert but with a light touch. It’s a pleasure to read and a reviving contrast to my usual reading selections. 

Too young to join the army in World War I, Saint-Exupéry spent the 1920s and 1930s as a pioneer of flight chasing the respectability he thought he missed by not being in the war. Earning fame as a commercial pilot in Europe, South America, and Africa, and saw the world before it was interconnected by globalized travel. While a pilot he also began to write, using his time above the clouds as inspiration. Taken from a small portion of his interesting life, Wind, Sand, and Stars is a breath of fresh air and a reminder that beauty can exist in austere and difficult circumstances. It was the mental break that I needed and a true joy.

“For such is life. We grow rich as we plant through the early years, but then come the years when time undoes our work and cuts down our trees. One by one our comrades deprive us of their shade, and within our mourning we always feel now the secret grief of growing old. . . there is only one true form of wealth, that of human contact. When we work for material gain, we build our own prison. We enclose ourselves in isolation; our coins turn to ashes and buy nothing worth living for.” 

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases.

Book Reviews, Mind

What We’re Reading This Month – March 2020

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Snowdon: The Story of a Welsh Mountain & The Hills of Wales by Jim Perrin

There is a pseudo-legend frequently recounted about Cwm Cau on Cader Idris, forty miles to the south: that to sleep there alone is to wake either as poet or madman, so sublime are the surroundings – Jim Perrin, Snowdon

Ever since I walked the Llanberis Trail to the summit of Mount Snowdon part of my brain has remained in northwestern Wales. The freezing summit and zero visibility wrapped the mountains in mystery. Before going I was vaguely aware of Snowdonia’s connection to the earliest British mountaineering pioneers, but not enough to speak smartly on the subject. There are a number of books on the subject, but Jim Perrin’s offered me an opportunity to dig a little deeper into Mount Snowdon’s history with Snowdon: The Story of a Welsh Mountain, which is a compact natural, mythical, and historical review of Snowdonia. 

He also seeks to give credit to the unnamed flora-seekers, shepherds, and guides for knowing the crags and crevices of Snowdon before the so-called discoveries by British hikers of a certain class.  The Hills of Wales is a collection of essays that Perrin has written over the decade, so it gives a more meandering look at the whole Welsh countryside. These two books are not appropriate for reading in a single sitting, but I revisit them each night when my mind absconds from daily concerns and returns to the mountains.

Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest by Wade Davis

One of the peculiar and unexpected outcomes of peace was the desire of many veterans to go anywhere but home. For those who survived, as Paul Fussel writes, travel became a source of irrational happiness, a moving celebration of the sheer joy of being alive. – Wade Davis

Relatedly, Into the Silence by Wade Davis came strongly recommended to me by Roland, a more accomplished and well-read climber. More than a story about the first attempts by Westerners to climb Mount Everest, it tells a wide-ranging story about the devastation of World War I on a generation of British climbers, on the classist Cambridge-Oxford-bred British climbing elites, and the evolution of a climbing as a pursuit of national pride and imperial symbolism. Davis delves into the lives of each of the personalities in the English climbing community, exploration of northern India and Tibet, politicians and diplomats, and others that play parts in the quest for Everest. He explores the upbringing, their relations to the mountaineering community, the strictures of their class and upbringing, and their experience/trauma of the First World War that “cleared the board,” so to speak, for this undertaking. I’m still working my way through this one, but it’s had an iron grip on my attention.

Flashpoint Trieste: The First Battle of the Cold War by Christian Jennings

By summer 1945, five sides faced each other around Trieste. Geo-political, strategic and diplomatic necessity forced all of them to communicate and negotiate with each other constantly. Anxious fingers needed to be kept off triggers. But nobody trusted the other. There were too many hidden agendas, promises made, assurances broken, vested interests and covert priorities. At the top of the Adriatic, Great Britain, the United States, Italy, Yugosalvia and Russia circled each other like nervous cats. And each nations’ storm-troopers of the Cold War, their intelligence agencies were in action. – Christian Jennings

Finally, I needed a book for a commute and picked one of the more pocket-sized paperbacks on my shelf. With my recent fascination with Italy, the outbreak of the coronavirus, and my love for historical complexity Flashpoint Trieste: The First Battle of the Cold War by Christian Jennings hits a sweet spot for my intellectual taste. Plain and simple, the Cold War wasn’t always a tale of two superpowers. It began with the convulsion of the post-World War I order – which was extremely volatile, even at the death of Adolf Hitler. This is a pretty straightforward history, but it gives nuance to a corner of World War II often overlooked with the sweeping gaze of 21st Century hindsight.

~ AZ

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. As an REI Associate, Pushing Horizons earns from qualifying purchases. 

Book Reviews, Mind

Introduction to North Africa

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I’ve spent the better part of the last decade trying to gain an expert-level of understanding on the people, politics and history of North Africa. Across my bookshelf, and the many libraries I have patroned, are books related to every aspect of North Africa. However, in an effort to not overwhelm any that ask me for recommendations I have consistently returned to these three books to crack the lid on the region. While these books don’t address the dispute in Western Sahara, Mauritania, or the Sudanese civil war, they suitably scratch the surface for those inclined to read further.

The French Intifada: The Long War Between France and Its Arabs by Andrew Hussey

“The real rivalry between Britain and France in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries was about commercial and political power. They sought to achieve their aims, however, in very different ways. The British were mostly interested in money and therefore mainly indifferent to the cultures of the ‘natives’ they colonized, subjugating them by force of arms when and if necessary. The French, in contrast, controlled their colonies by pursuing the ‘civilizing mission’, effectively seeking to make their subjects culturally French. Of course the French plundered where they could, but there was an added strategic urge to extend the concept of ‘Frenchness’ across the world.”

History did not start in the last two centuries, but within those 200 years the French colonization of North Africa – specifically Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia – continues to dramatically shape the post-colonial outlooks of these countries. Andrew Hussey, a journalist, uses France and French politics as the focal point of his book. As colonies, France’s possessions were dominated by the whims of French politicians and a largely disinterested public – until figurative screaming and literal violence was needed to effect change. 

While French influence and France are by no means the chief driver of social and historical change, their involvement in these countries cannot be ignored. The contrast between decolonization experiences of Morocco and Tunisia with that of Algeria is an important feature in understanding these countries during the Arab Spring and afterwards. Although nearly six years since its publication, its broad scope allows The French Intifada to be a natural starting point for understanding these three countries.

The Burning Shores: Inside the Battle for the New Libya by Frederic Wehrey

“As the clock ticked, Libya’s factions seemed more intent on fighting each other, even if it meant ruining the country and giving space to the Islamic State. It reminded Libyans of an old joke.

A genie appears from a lamp and promises to give a man one wish, while doubling that wish for his friend. 

‘A blind eye,’ the man responds.”

Moving East, most of what you’ll find on Libya either focuses on Qaddafi, his rise to power, the peculiarities of his state, and the Arab Spring. However, Libya’s descent in to civil war after 2012 is still largely undocumented and misunderstood by the outside world. Frederic Wehrey bridges that gap, from the Arab Spring until 2017, with delicacy in his book. He explains the complexity and layers of the competing militias, tribes, ethnic groups, and religious adherents and why peace, reconciliation, and prosperity did not quickly follow the fall of the dictator. Libya has its own rich and complex history to take into account, but the parallels of societies with non-existent civil societies, dependency on all-powerful leaders, and an inescapable secret police/intelligence service are consistent with what the world has seen recently. 

As the contest between the militias of the so-called Libyan National Army and the Tripoli-based militias propping up the Government of National Accord in Tripoli persist, the divisions unleashed in 2011 are still very much the dominating feature of Libya today. This is an excellent start to understanding the problems facing Libya after the fall of Qaddafi as it seeks its own form of representative democracy and peace.

Soldiers, Spies, and Statesmen: Egypt's Road to Revolt by Hazem Kandil

“Not to know what happened before you were born is to remain forever a child.”

Egypt’s Arab Spring brought sweeping change to the country. However, as the saying goes ‘the more things change the more they stay the same.’ Hazem Kandil’s book helps drive that point home with a brilliant and detailed analysis of Egypt’s political history between 1952 and 2013. He draws a single line between all the events using the paradigm of the competing and balancing powers in Egypt – the security apparatus, the political parties, and the military institution. The ascent of Abdel Fattah el-Sisi to power in 2014, after the period covered in this book, would be unsurprising for those familiar with this book. Soldiers, Spies, and Statesmen is essential fundamental reading for understanding modern Egypt.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author. 

Book Reviews, Mind

Author Focus: Erik Larson

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In the past thirty years I have read many books. Sometimes I have gone down the rabbit hole with a particular series or author until my desire for their work flames out. There are, however, a select few authors in my library that I sit on the edge of my seat waiting for their next publication. Such is my relationship with Erik Larson ever since I was swept up in the Devil in the White City almost two decades ago. Since 2003, I have kept his subsequent releases at the top of my Christmas list. So, while we all wait for the release of The Splendid and the Vile, his latest endeavor, I’ll take a look back at my top three Larson books to-date.

Isaac’s Storm: A Man, a Time, and the Deadliest Hurricane in History

“People seemed to believe that technology had stripped hurricanes of their power to kill. No hurricane expert endorsed this view. None believed the days of mesoscale deaths were gone for good.”

Within days of finishing Devil in the White City I started reading Isaac’s Storm. Larson first began writing the dual-narrative non-fiction story with this book. In it he weaves the story of meteorology in the United States with that of Isaac Cline, a regional meteorologist. On the face of it, there does not appear to be a rich history in a historical weather drama, but Larson was successful in crafting a compelling disaster story from his historical research and Cline’s own correspondence and writings. Larson would move on to write about wars, spies, murders, and other great tragedies in his other works. I still remember this book after 15 years because it made the weather suspenseful, he transformed the benign history of a bureaucracy and transformed it into a thriller. It’s great writing and affirmed my dedication to reading Erik Larson’s ensuing books.

In The Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror, and an American Family in Hitler’s Berlin

“Throughout that first year in Germany, Dodd had been struck again and again by the strange indifference to atrocity that had settled over the nation, the willingness of the populace and of the moderate elements in the government to accept each new oppressive decree, each new act of violence, without protest. . . For Dodd, diplomat by accident, not demeanor, the whole thing was utterly appalling. He was a scholar and Jeffersonian democrat, a farmer who loved history and the old Germany in which he had studies as a young man. Now there was official murder on a terrifying scale. Dodd’s friends and acquaintances, people who had been to his house for dinner and tea, had been shot dead. Nothing in Dodd’s past had prepared him for this.”

I was gifted two copies of In The Garden of Beasts when it was published. My affinity for Erik Larson was well known at that point by my friends and family. This book became important to me as a guide for being “alone and unafraid” at a time in my career that I was embarking on a series of overseas assignments. Again, Larson weaves two narratives into a rich historical narrative set in pre-World War II Nazi Germany, built on the real-life correspondence of William E. Dodd, the American Ambassador to Germany, and his daughter, Martha. From their vantage point he tells a tale of seduction, ignorance, violence, and growing fear. Germany was a fallen imperial power and nascent democracy, and awash post-World War I awash with shame and resentment, fascism and bolshevism. In The Garden of Beasts helps remind us that the Nazi menace didn’t appear overnight before invading Poland. It grew out of a decade of resentment, economic struggle, and increasingly violent rhetoric – witnessed firsthand by the businessmen and diplomats living there during Hitler’s rise and consolidation of power. Another forgotten aspect of the pre-Cold War era is the flirtation by many Americans with Soviet Communism, including Martha Dodd. It’s a powerful and gripping read. Larson’s chosen subjects and writing style evoke unexpected emotions from the reader given what we know now on Nazi Germany’s arc through history.

Thunderstruck

“Within twenty-four hours Captain Kendall would discover that his ship had become the most famous vessel afloat and that he himself had become the subject of breakfast conversations from Broadway in New York to Piccadilly in London. He had stepped into the intersection of two wildly disparate stories, whose collision on his ship in this time, the end of the Edwardian era, would exert influence on the world for the century to come.”

By far this is my favorite Larson book. At the peak of his craft, he brings two narratives so distinct and unconnected at their outset that the reader may be forgiven for jittery excitement as they merge later at the book’s dramatic conclusion. Larson masterfully brings the scientific history of radio communications together with a true crime thriller. The benignity of the science, juxtaposed with the criminal narrative lulls the reader into a soothing rhythm of alternating storylines, only to be jolted when narrative accelerates to the finale. The less I write to avoid spoiling the effect the more I hope to convey my endorsement of this book. This is a sure-bet read.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author.  

Book Reviews, Mind

World War I: Logic & Folly

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2019 marks the centennial of the Paris Peace Conference following the conclusion of ‘The War to End All Wars.’ This Armistice Day,  it seems appropriate to take a long look back at the war and flawed peace that set the stage for the century’s remaining conflicts. The centennial of the Great War has brought renewed interest and focus on the causes, conduct, and consequences of the First World War. The entire generation that has any memory of this great conflict has passed and gone and all that we are left with are their words and deeds that slowly fade and transform into myth. Over the past few years a number of excellent books have been published on the First World War, and here are some of our favorites:

The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914 by Christopher Clark

“The key decision-makers – kings, emperors, foreign ministers, ambassadors, military commanders and a host of lesser officials – walked towards danger in watchful, calculated steps. The outbreak of war was the culmination of chains of decisions made by political actors with conscious objectives, who were capable of a degree of self-reflection, acknowledged a range of options and formed the best judgements they could on the basis of the best information they had to hand. Nationalism, armaments, alliances and finance were all part of the story, but they can be made to carry real explanatory weight only if they can be seen to have shaped the decisions that – in combination – made war break out.”

“The key decision-makers – kings, emperors, foreign ministers, ambassadors, military commanders and a host of lesser officials – walked towards danger in watchful, calculated steps. The outbreak of war was the culmination of chains of decisions made by political actors with conscious objectives, who were capable of a degree of self-reflection, acknowledged a range of options and formed the best judgements they could on the basis of the best information they had to hand. Nationalism, armaments, alliances and finance were all part of the story, but they can be made to carry real explanatory weight only if they can be seen to have shaped the decisions that – in combination – made war break out.”

Everyone should read The Guns of August by Barbara Tuchman about the decisions and chain of events that followed the assisnation of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo. I’m currently rereading it after twenty years. However, of the more recent publications Christopher Clark’s The Sleepwalkers is a great place to start. It is an extremely relevant and thought provoking analysis of the circumstances prior to the First World War, meticulous in its accumulation of information. I love the author’s introduction and approach to the topic – mainly that the figures behind the July Crisis of 1914 acted within the limits of their experiences and circumstances.

What Clark does exceptionally well is demonstrate how the threads of plans, fears, and faulty ideas in international politics of the time spliced together to absolve the decision-makers of any responsibility for the catastrophe. Russia’s contribution to the calamity is central, the Balkan focus of the Great Power politics made the system unstable and volatile, while the Triple Entente refused to allow Austria-Hungary any reasonable room to maneuver in pursuit of its national interest. The First World War came as the unlikely culmination of rigid, narrow, and faulty thinking – by many people. It’s an excellent history with an impressive amount of thoroughness. 

Too Important for the Generals: Losing & Winning the First World War by Allan Mallinson

2 June 1915

“It is a curious thing, Field Marshall, that this war has produced no great generals” – UK Prime Minister H. H. Asquith

“No, Prime Minister, nor has it produced a statesman.’ Major General Henry Wilson, Sub Chief of Staff, British Expeditionary Force

The Great War was a tragedy of diplomacy and generalship. The Sleepwalkers addresses the former, while Allan Mallison’s book addresses the latter – albeit exclusively on the British side. While he touches on the relationship between the British government and its generals Mallison savages the military men that favored seniority over brilliance, petty jealousy over competence, and the bayonet over the bullet.

He doesn’t write alternative histories,  but he does wonder out loud the direction a few different decisions would have taken the war. Chief among them is the decision to use the entire army in France rather than use the small force to train the millions they would eventually need.  Or the shortsighted decision to empty staff officers from army headquarters to fill the British Expeditionary Force, leaving the desks left for developing strategy of a world war empty. 

Too Important for the Generals asks the same questions that need asking as contemporary wars languish adrift from policy, rotating generals re-declare victory, and the world waits for this generations’ great statesmen.

The Vanquished: Why the First World War Failed to End by Robert Gerwarth

“While it is obvious that none of the post-war violence can be explained without reference to the Great War, it might be more appropriate to view that conflict as the unintentional enabler of the social or national revolutions that were to shape Europe’s political, social and cultural agenda for decades to come. . . It was in this period that a particular deadly but ultimately conventional conflict between states – the First World War – gave way to an interconnected series of conflicts whose logic and purpose was much more dangerous.” 

History is written by the victors . . . or so they say. However, what Robert Gerwarth does is flip that idea and explains how the inability to justify death, destruction, and sacrifice with victory shaped the “post-Great War” years of the defeated states. Without a victory to lean on, the defeated Central Powers redefined the logic of violence against civilians and the dehumanization of “enemies,” the belief in betrayal by fifth columns, and the rediscovery that violence and the threat of violence can bring political change for political minorities – see Fascists and Bolsheviks. Further exasperated by the collapse of the polyglot empires, national minorities fought to attain statehood and security in an undefined new world order – conflicts that would carve and recarve states over the following decades. It’s a tremendously well-researched book, engaging, and an important perspective on early Twentieth Century history – which I hope can influence both the waging of war and the making of peace in the Twenty First Century.

Andrew Zapf is a co-founder of Pushing Horizons.

Disclaimer: All views expressed are that of the author.