Although I truly relished this collection to a great extent, the writing did not reach the pinnacle of Krakauer's capabilities. In fact, when juxtaposed with his masterpieces such as Into the Wild and Into Thin Air, I would classify it as his weakest attempt thus far.

With the sole exception of the final piece, \\"Devil's Thumb,\\" the entire book was constructed from truncated magazine articles. And this was quite evident.

Despite these complaints, however, the book was still remarkable and revealed a profound humanity that I have seldom encountered in other climbing, mountaineering, or alpinist books. Reading it served as a powerful reminder of how much I delight in these adventure-fluff stories. They are, for me, the equivalent of a romance novel. Moreover, it has provided the impetus for me to re-immerse myself in the non-fiction adventure genre.

In conclusion, do read Eiger Dreams. It is a quick and engaging read, and I firmly believe you will not be left disappointed.

Some truly remarkable essays are contained within these pages.

I was particularly impressed by the ones dedicated to Denali and K2. They were executed with great finesse.

If "Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mount Everest Disaster" by Jon Krakauer left you with a strong desire for more of his climbing and mountain-related writing, then this compilation of essays, which were penned for Outside magazine in the mid to late 80s, might just be the perfect fit.

It offers a diverse range of perspectives and experiences from the world of mountaineering.

The vivid descriptions and engaging narratives will transport you to the heights and depths of these majestic mountains.

Whether you are an avid climber or simply have an interest in the subject, this collection is sure to captivate and inspire you.

It provides a unique insight into the challenges, triumphs, and tragedies that occur in the world of high-altitude climbing.

So, if you're looking for some thrilling and thought-provoking reading, give this collection of essays a try.

You won't be disappointed.

Before the acclaim he received for Into the Wild and Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer was a dedicated outdoors enthusiast, penning about other like-minded individuals.

In this compilation of essays, Krakauer shares several accounts of his personal escapades. One involves a youthful, perhaps imprudent foray into a particularly arduous climb in Alaska, and another details his attempt on the Eiger. And these are truly excellent. However, I find Krakauer at his best when he writes about the Damon-Runyon-esque characters who populate the realm of extreme adventuring.

For instance, in Gill, he describes John Gill, the world's preeminent exponent of "bouldering" (imagine a fly on the ceiling), as someone who might actually levitate. In The Burgess Boys, two inebriated brothers manage to take on a surprisingly large number of major climbs despite their aversion to organization and sobriety.

Chamonix, a town in France that Krakauer dubs the "death sport capital of the world," features a bar where large screens amuse the crowd with diverse scenes of death and near-death experiences. It is uproariously funny when Krakauer sheds light on the various ethnic conflicts, with particular emphasis on the creative insults each group enjoys hurling at the other. It brings to mind Python-like Frenchmen launching diseased animals at their English adversaries while shouting "come back here so we can taunt you some more."

While most of us are unlikely to attempt the Eiger's north face, work as bush pilots, or strive to survive hurricane-force winds with temperatures so frigid as to be unimaginable while huddled in a torn tent or a dubious ice cave at over twenty thousand feet, it is a wonderful thing to have some crazy person who inhabits that world report to the rest of us what transpires there. Eiger Dreams is a brisk, entertaining, and informative read.

Review first posted in 2010.

I came to each of Krakauer's works independently.

I first read "Into the Wild" on a recommendation. Years later, as I was preparing to climb Kilimanjaro, a mild yet high peak, someone told me that "Into Thin Air" would provide a good insight into the effects of altitude, so I read it.

Finally, I discovered this collection of essays and realized that, for some reason, I had read the final essay somewhere before.

I can understand why some people might think Krakauer is a selfish bastard at times. In the eyes of others, the very act of climbing is often seen as selfish. Although Krakauer believes in the sacrosanct nature of the bond between ropemates, on Everest, he notes that the nature of the beast drives many to an every-man-for-himself mentality. This is revisited in "A Bad Summer on K2" during a discussion of saving those near death at great risk to the lives of everyone else.

Considering the effects of altitude on the human brain, I don't think any armchair philosophizing or moralizing applies here. People simply cannot and do not behave normally at 26,000 feet, and everyone who climbs that high knows that doing so means putting their life on the line. Asking others to forsake theirs for a slim chance at saving yours... can we ever truly ask that of people? Every life is at stake in a storm. Is it more honorable to perish attempting to save someone (who may - and likely will - die despite your efforts) than it is to abandon them and hustle down to save your own skin?

One reviewer commented on how selfish Krakauer was to risk his own life in such a callous manner as climbing the Devil's Thumb, and yet to risk his own life on Everest to attempt to save someone else seems more noble. Does anyone engaging in this armchair moralizing understand what it means to carry 180lb of dead weight down a mountain (without injuring the person further!) in bad conditions while you yourself are addled by altitude and saddled with gear, etc? I suppose these people think that such mountains should not be climbed at all.

But there it is. Some people will never understand why others are so willing to hang their entire lives on a half-inch of steel kicked or picked into ice a thousand feet off the ground. I think Krakauer does a good job of explaining the clarity one's life and mind take on when circumstances require such uncompromising focus on what is immediately in front of you. I think other athletes and aesthetes may have an easier time grasping this mentality and perhaps will get greater enjoyment from this book.

I do wonder how the sport has changed in the last thirty years. Many of these essays were written in the 80s, and I imagine mentalities and technologies have changed things since then.

I read Eiger Dreams many years after Into Thin Air, which detailed the tragedy on Everest in 1996.

Eiger Dreams is a compendium of magazine articles Krakauer wrote in the 80s. I always wondered how Krakauer could be such a selfish, cowardly, and ultimately detestable human being. As he admits being near the summit of Everest, he cowers safely in his tent after his own successful summiting, while others freeze to death in a blizzard on the mountaintop.

Well, now I know. Krakauer has always been obsessed with mountaineering, especially ice climbing. And his particular brand thereof is the macho solo attempt. This is exemplified by his foolhardy ascent of the Devil's Thumb in Alaska, done without proper preparation, zero connection with the outside world, and a callous indifference to the impact his death might make on those who love him. He never even mentions the loss his parents will feel at his death, should it occur, even though his death is constantly on his mind as he hangs by two ice picks 750 feet above the glacier.

In fine, Krakauer is a narcissist apparently incapable of empathy or true sacrificial love for a fellow human.

But he's a hell of a writer.

When he dies in some stupid nature debacle, I, for one, will not shed a tear. He is who he is and his honesty about himself (it slips through in these essays and shouts full-throated in Into Thin Air) leaves no room for doubt: he will, eventually, get what he deserves. Nature, red in tooth and claw, is as honest and implacable in her truths as Krakauer is in his. We shall see who wins.

Jon Krakauer's writing is truly outstanding.

His ability to vividly bring to life the experiences of climbing is remarkable. I firmly believe that the most captivating stories within his works revolve around his own firsthand encounters during climbs.

The first and last chapters of the book, in particular, stand out. The final story is truly a gem. Krakauer not only provides a detailed account of his arduous journey to summit the Devil's Thumb but also delves into the aftermath.

His descriptions of the thoughts racing through his mind at various junctures as the situation turns increasingly perilous are utterly fascinating.

However, for me, the weakest stories are those that solely focus on other climbers or the climbing society, such as The Burgess Boys or the Chamonix chapters. While they hold some interest, they lack the profound impact that Krakauer's personal climbing narratives possess.

Nonetheless, his overall body of work is a testament to his skill as a writer and his deep passion for the world of climbing.

Krakauer, through 12 stories, has told a plethora of lesser-known details and information about outdoor activities in his camping style. While most probably know that Hillary and Tenzing were the first people on Everest and that there is a high mountain called K2, this is a collection of Krakauer's experiences and encounters with people that are less known and from which mountain lovers and enthusiasts of extreme experiences will salivate. It departs from classic travelogues and gives an "inside" view, for example, what it's like to stay in a tent during a rainy five-day period and what one can occupy oneself with in a 2x2 m space without losing one's mind.

Spiritually, briskly, lucidly, and informatively.

What can I say?

If you are a fan of Krakauer's works, then you are bound to enjoy this one as well. It delves into the world of mountains, filled with thrilling adventures, hair-raising near-death (and even actual death) experiences. Moreover, it speculates on the reasons why people are so compelled to take on the risks associated with sports such as climbing and canyoneering.

In the final chapter, Krakauer vividly describes and reflects upon a rather ill-conceived trip he undertook at the age of 23 to solo climb a peak in Alaska. I can't quite recall if he makes any reference to this particular incident in his book about Chris McCandless, "Into the Wild", considering that McCandless was around the same age when he deliberately vanished into the Alaskan wilderness. However, I couldn't help but wonder if Krakauer's own personal experience was what sparked his intense interest in McCandless and led him to write about his story.

I first read this book on Oct 26, 2013.

Here is my review.
This book contains exciting tales of mountain and rock climbers from all around the world. The initial few stories had me completely on the edge of my seat, filled with anticipation and excitement. However, as I continued reading, the stories seemed to lose their charm and became rather repetitive and old.

The second time I picked up this book was on Oct.20, 2017.

Once again, here is my review.
The men and women depicted in these short stories are truly addicted to mountain climbing. Each story delves into someone's insane desire to conquer a mountain and the extreme lengths they are willing to go to fulfill that dream. They all put themselves in imminent danger of death, spending countless hours facing the perils of ice, strong winds, and the ever-present threat of a fatal accident. It is both exciting and educational to read about their adventures. Personally, I wouldn't have minded if there were only half as many stories. I grew tired of reading one after another about so many close calls with danger. Nevertheless, I did manage to learn some interesting facts about some of the world's biggest mountains, which was a nice bonus.

Overall, this book has its pros and cons, but it does offer a unique perspective on the world of mountain climbing.

This book is not one of his best works.

However, the experiences it describes are interesting and motivating.

It offers a unique perspective on various aspects of life.

The author has managed to capture the essence of these experiences in a way that engages the reader.

Despite not being his top-notch creation, it still has its own charm and value.

The stories within the book can inspire readers to reflect on their own lives and perhaps take on new challenges.

It shows that even in an average work, there can be elements that are worth exploring and learning from.

Overall, it is a book that may not be a masterpiece but can still provide an enjoyable and thought-provoking read.

Love Krakauer.

These essays, although somewhat dated, remain interesting and are presented in his unique style. This was the last book of his that I had not yet read. While it may rank near the bottom among my favorites due to its dated nature and form, I'm still glad I read it. It's always a pleasure to experience Krakauer's work, as he has a way of captivating readers with his engaging stories and thought-provoking perspectives. I hope he is currently working on his next masterpiece, as I can't wait to see what he has in store for us. His writing has had a significant impact on me, and I'm sure many others feel the same way. I look forward to reading more of his work in the future and seeing how his writing evolves.

After being absolutely thrilled by Krakauer's "Into Thin Air" last year, I made a couple of resolutions. Firstly, to read more of Krakauer's works, and secondly, to read more in general about mountaineering.

This book here combines both of these intentions: "On the Summits of the World" is a collection of Krakauer's magazine articles, written over a long period of time in various outdoor and climbing magazines.

Overall, "On the Summits of the World" was by no means as exciting as "Into Thin Air", but that's - I think - understandable. After all, Krakauer can't constantly experience life-and-death struggles on Everest. However, I had expected that the book would be more about general mountain adventures or first ascents, not so much about Krakauer's own climbing experiences. Basically, the book is more aimed at a specialist audience and is probably more exciting for readers who climb themselves than it was for me.

What I didn't like so much was that the proper names of mountains or nicknames were translated into German. That's not really done anymore these days, but my edition is also quite old. Since most of the articles are about events from the 60s to the 80s, it overall lacked topicality for me, and some facts were simply outdated. That's of course clear when the book is already over 20 years old, but as a result, it's no longer a must-read.

What I liked best was the chapter "A Bad Summer on K2". On the one hand, because it was the most exciting article in the collection, and on the other hand, because Krakauer here spoke quite frankly about the shortcomings in the climbing community. Here, Everybody's Darling and talk show常客 Reinhold Messner doesn't get away completely unscathed either. Messner had emphasized at that time that climbing is only authentic when one climbs mountains with as few people as possible, with the simplest possible equipment, without oxygen supply, and in the shortest possible time. In the 80s, what Messner said was law in the climbing world. And so this approach to mountaineering cost the lives of many ambitious mountaineers in the following years who wanted to do justice to Messner's principles. Of course, one can't directly blame Messner for these accidents, but it still leaves a bitter aftertaste.

In addition, I found it interesting in this article how Krakauer compares different moral approaches in mountaineering. In the past, it was: We are a team on the mountain. Nobody is left behind. At the end of the 20th century, this became a "we are a team, but when push comes to shove, everyone has to look out for themselves". Both approaches have their justification, Krakauer doesn't make a direct evaluation either, but it was interesting to read about the change in the sense of belonging of expeditions.

For a specialist audience, an exciting, for the general reader rather moderately exciting non-fiction book. It can be read once, but it doesn't have to be.

2.75