Product Description

Don Whillans has an iconic significance for generations of climbers. His epoch-making first ascent of Annapurna's South Face, achieved with Dougal Haston in 1970, remains one of the most impressive climbs ever made - but behind this and all his other formidable achievements lies a tough, recalcitrant reality: the character of the man himself. Whillans carried within himself a sense of personal invincibility, forceful, direct and uncompromising. It gave him sporting superstar status - the flawed heroism of a Best, a McEnroe, an Ali. In his own circle, his image was the working-class hero on the rock-face, laconic and bellicose, ready to go to war with the elements or with any human who crossed his path on a bad day.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #8188 in Books
• Published on: 2006-04-06
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 320 pages

Review
"Wonderfully crafted . . . One of the most gifted chroniclers of mountaineering. . . Perrin records it all with a subtle sympathy, laying bare British mountaineering's most mythologized figure."
-"Independent"

"From the Trade Paperback edition."

Observer
'a kind of modern tragedy... Yet for all his failings, Whillans remains a legend'

The Independent
'Perrin records it all with a subtle sympathy, laying bare British mountaineering's most mythologized figure'

Customer Reviews

A superbly crafted portrait
This is a quite wonderful book. Jim Perrin is a rare man: a mountaineer from working class roots who's also a very gifted writer, in my opinion the finest of all the mountaineering writers of late. He's an averagely competent climber - no extreme gymnast or Everest-conquering hero - but has been in the "scene" for decades and knew Whillans personally, who, besides being a fabulously gifted climber armed with a devastating wit, was also famously bellicose. (Perrin's first encounter with Whillans was when Whillans invited him to 'step outslde' after he'd bumped him in a Welsh pub; people who didn't know Whillans often got into trouble with because he was so small - only five foot three. "But it's raining!" exclaimed Perrin, to his immediate embarrassment. "Aye, yer wet enough already", retorted Whillans, and walked away chuckling. They later became friends.)

The book is sublimely assembled and the acute poignancy of his subject - the "hardest man" in British climbing, who while broadly loved, revered and admired by the climbing community at large, was shunned in his later years by a sizeable minority of his peers - actually reduced me to tears in several places: each time, surprised by the sudden lump in my throat, I had to stop reading for a few minutes. This was a clearly a terribly difficult project (it took nearly twenty years to complete); in his preface he says the book was really written by the entire British climbing community, such was the quality and quantity of the material provided from every quarter. As I read on, quite unable to put the book down, I found myself increasingly admiring of Perrin's writing on what is a very challenging and unstraightforward subject - a respected friend, brilliant in many ways yet full of flaws and complexity, revered by the climbing community yet brim-full of contradictions. Some of the most moving parts of the book for me were the brilliant glimpses Perrin provided into the undoubted soft, sensitive, yet almost totally hidden core of this toughest and bravest of men: when he relished bouncing a balloon with a friend's small child (he thought no-one was watching); the great care he gave to those in difficulty in perilous and serious mountain situations (when he always came into his own; many described Whillans as the very finest mountaineer ever to share a tight corner with); the desperate hurt and betrayal he felt - and never got over - when Joe Brown, his old-time climbing partner and (some may say) nemesis, was invited to Kanchenjunga in 1953 but Whillans was overlooked; the times when as a small child he was a famous 'scrapper' but would always do the decent thing and own up when a friend was unjustly punished for one of Whillans' misdemeanours. For me, Whillans - in most, but not all, of his actions and behavior; the only exceptions occurred when he was drunk and a different, more violent and angry persona sometimes emerged - epitomises the very definition of 'integrity": when one's words, actions and beliefs are all in alignment, like it or not. The only aspect of the man that rarely broke surface was his own undoubtedly emotional core, which drove him in every way, and gave the lie to his sometimes apparently unkind, selfish or insensitive presentation of himself to his mountaineering brethren.

Here is one of a large number of impeccably crafted paragraphs:

"This vignette [the great Tom Patey's article for that year's Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal entitled "a Short Walk with Whillans'] by the finest comic essayist in climbing literature played a considerable role in establishing the persona of Whillans as doom-laded quipster and drollster, and in a mellow but perceptive way also brought out the character traits that were ultimately to contribute to the widespread disaffection with him among the companions on his later expeditions: the strategic indolence, the racism, the incessant scrounging, and the propensity for dogmatic utterance that would brook no contradiction. It also, in a brief and masterful final paragraph, captured beautifully the sense that here was a man who, for all his unique abilities and exceptional achievements, had hanging around him something of the atmosphere of failure, something of the sense of one unloved by those gods who bestow good fortune and easy chance on humankind; and perhaps also the sense of one who was growing 'tired of knocking at preferment's door': 'We got back to the Alpiglen in time for late lunch. The telescope stood forlorn and deserted in the rain. The Eiger had retired into misty oblivion, as Don Whillans retired to his favourite corner seat by the window.'"

If you appreciated this delicious little snippet, I suspect you'll greatly value the book: the finest and most masterful climbing biography I've yet had the pleasure to read. Jim Perrin deserves honours for his unswerving dedication to honesty, fairness, and some truly sublime descriptive writing in among it all.

A Villain and a Hero
I loved this book.

It tells the story of a complex character using sources unavailable to previous writers. It is obviously written by a friend, but all the warts are here. And there are a lot of warts. Some of the legends are rightly debunked. Whillans was a loving husband, made heroic rescues and a droll speaker. He was also racist, a crude womaniser and a thug. He was also a quite wonderful climber. Whether he was better than the universally liked and admired Joe Brown is a point that is perhaps over done. They were both climbers of real genius.

I especially liked the footnotes. And there are a lot. Sometimes they were insightful. The author's first meeting with Whillans in a pub resulted in an invitation to 'step outside' (an invitation wisely turned down). Sometimes you wonder why the footnote is in the book at all. There is a short piece about the demise of the British Motorcycle industry. But they are always interesting.

Buy it, read it and enjoy it.

One of the Greatest
'The Villain' is an account of the life of Donald Desbrow Whillans (1933-1985), one of Britain's greatest climbers and mountaineers, but one of the most controversial. This biography is by well known Jim Perrin, accomplished climber, highly respected author, and regular contributor to magazines and journals. His book was clearly difficult to write, taking almost twenty years to complete. He was urged by friends of Don Whillans to write the book, and it was the wish of Don's wife Audrey that the account be 'warts and all'. In spite of this Perrin delayed completion and publication until after Audrey's death as he believed some of his material could be hurtful.

Certainly 'The Villain' is an uncomfortable study. It covers Whillan's working class background, his entry into the rock-climbing arena, his competitive and combative approach, and his broadening into a great world class mountaineer with a pinnacle of success being the South Face of Annapurna. In spite of skill, daring and formidable achievements there is a parallel story of insecurity and vulnerability, and Don Whillans emerges from the pages as a flawed genius. He was a remarkable mountaineer with Alpine, Himalayan and other world-wide successes, and he was one of the most talented of twentieth century rock-climbers, but his expedition experiences were limited for personal behavioural reasons and his rock routes were often eclipsed by those of his one-time climbing partner Joe Brown. On occasions the hero of 'The Villain' appears to be Joe Brown with Don Whillans the anti-hero, as the author explores values placed on heroism and the forfeits heroes sometimes have to pay in achieving it. Homage is paid to Chris Bonington with explanations for inclusion of Don on the Annapurna expedition or exclusion from his first British ascent of the North Face of the Eiger. As a comparative study of Don Whillans and other great climbers of the same generation - the others come off best.

'The Villain' is a fantastic read, it is truly a great book, it is a definitive piece of work, and it has already become a classic. There is no doubting the legacy of Don Whillans where his name today is used to define rock climbs with a presence about them: Whillans' routes are bold with 'in your face' difficulties. And there is no doubting his legendary status where if you are on a big route in adverse conditions with apparently unsurmountable problems: you need a Whillans companion to get you out of trouble. Jim Perrin does not shirk from painting portraits of Don Whillans as obstinate and aggressive, or even as a womaniser and emotionally detached, and there may have been wasted talent, but 'The Villain' still portrays Don Whillans accurately as one of the greatest of his generation of climbers and mountaineers.