An unpopular take on The Alpinist

bryans wrote:

OP here. I appreciate seeing the wide range of responses. Depending on your age and genetic disposition and past experiences we are all going to interpret the movie differently. I get that if you are in your 20s and have no spouse or kids and perhaps less attachment to/investment in your life and don't feel super accountable to stay alive, you are in the headspace to do dangerous routes because they make you feel badass/alive/cool/satisfied/not depressed/whatever - and so you'll obviously stand up for Marc and his decisions because you see yourself in him. You want to be him, maybe, or at least live out his espoused values. Like 'Evy Duty says in the movie, if you aren't hot blooded and bold between 17 and 24, you may as well just shoot yourself because you're not living anyway (I'm paraphrasing, probably badly, sorry) Maybe that's all the movie boils down. He and Brett soloing because they are young and don't have responsibilities and just really, really like climbing enough to die for it. 

Also, I think the comments here are almost entirely by men (phylyp phylyp is maybe the only woman who posted?) I know MP is overwhelmingly male, but still, what does that say? 

I think you and phlyp offer the mature perspective here. There's a reason Clif Bar and other companies decided to end their sponsorship of athletes like Marc.

phylp phylp wrote:

As I have followed through this thread, I have looked at many of the profiles of people who don't get this sense of "waste" I and the OP are sad about.  It's interesting to me that most of the people who don't get why we have these feelings are young men in their 20s and 30s.

When I was in my 30s and driving in the dark of night towards a climbing destination I had a terrible car accident.  In the few microseconds where the car had left the road and was hurling at 60 mph into the unknown - a cliff, a rock face? - I knew with certainty that I was going to die. Images of all the people I loved flashed through my mind.  Three words came crystal clear - "what a waste".  The waste was the waste of the long life I wanted to have so that I could continue to have that love.  Then the no-airbag car hit a giant conifer and was it was totaled, but I lived. Even since, no possession or experience has been as valuable to me as the experience of sharing that feeling of love with other beings.

With all these deaths of people at such a young age, whether it's from a climbing accident, or some kid in their bedroom who gets killed by a gangbangers stray bullet, or a car accident, I feel the sadness of "what a waste".  Not for the suffering of those left behind, but that that human being won't have the precious time to experience the joy of just being alive.  At my age, 69, I appreciate even more every day what a gift that time is.  It's not the way that he died that bothers me especially much, it's that he died so young.

Anyway, I've never argued that people should not climb.  Everything has risk. I myself am fully aware of the risks of climbing and all the other risks of life.  I have probably done hundreds more "leader must not fall" pitches in my life that you will ever do in yours.  We, as climbers, are constantly making that assessment of what we can do "safely" even though we know it is never safe.  That's the analysis and internal bargain that we make to allow us to experience something that gives us joy. 

In climbing, if you find the right balance for yourself and your skills, sometimes you get lucky and you have a long and wonderful life.  Sometimes you get unlucky and you get injured or die. Sometimes shit just happens. But there is also this saying "you make your own luck".  You notice in the film none of the other accomplished alpinists seemed to be saying - "oh yeah what he's doing is great, keep going for it dude".

BTW, I didn't know what or who the film was about when I started watching it.  I thought it was going to be filled with beautiful mountains and somebody like Conrad Anker doing a narration.  Or something funny but awesome like Sean Villanueva O'Driscoll.  If I had know it was going to feature film of that type of soloing, I would not have watched it.  

You realize that Sean Villanueva did a fair bit of soloing on his solo ascent of the Fitz Roy traverse, right? How would a documentary about that be better compared to the Alpinist? Because Sean is funnier than MAC?

Mike Climberson wrote:

You realize that Sean Villanueva did a fair bit of soloing on his solo ascent of the Fitz Roy traverse, right? How would a documentary about that be better compared to the Alpinist? Because Sean is funnier than MAC?

Because Sean is alive. Honnold talks about the fact that we celebrate achievements but pile on the failures of any of these athletes that don't succeed.

petzl logic wrote:

Because Sean is alive. Honnold talks about the fact that we celebrate achievements but pile on the failures of any of these athletes that don't succeed.

That Honnold line might be the best of the movie. Something like, “if you live, you’re a hero, if you die, you’re an idiot, but you’re still the same person.” 

Also, I think it’s worth noting that Alex Lowe, MAL, Guy Lacelle, Jess Roskelley, David Lama, Micah Dash, Charlie Fowler and many others were killed by avalanches, not falls from the cutting-edge technical terrain for which they were famous. Be careful out there. 

Mike Climberson wrote:

You realize that Sean Villanueva did a fair bit of soloing on his solo ascent of the Fitz Roy traverse, right? How would a documentary about that be better compared to the Alpinist? Because Sean is funnier than MAC?

She never said "don't solo." She also said she's led hundreds of "you may as well be soloing" pitches. And John Long is a better writer than either of the above on the issue of risking your life for a climb. Here's his famous essay "The Only Blasphemy" which most have read but it's worth re-reading. This is the only version I could find not locked behind a pay or subscriber wall:

http://web.mit.edu/lin/Public/climbing/Only_Blasphemy.txt

"...I'm stuck, terrified, and my whole existence is focused down to a pinpoint which sears my everything like the torrid amber dot from a magnifying glass. Shamefully I understand the only blasphemy: to willfully jeopardize my own existence, which I've done, and this sickens me. I know that wasted seconds could ... then a flash, the world stops, or is it preservation instincts booting my brain into hyper gear? In the time it takes a hummingbird to wave its wings - once - I've realized my implacable desire to live, not die!; but my regrets cannot alter my situation: arms shot, legs wobbling, head ablaze. My fear has devoured itself, leaving me hollow and mortified. To concede, to quit would be easy. Another little voice calmly intones: "At least die trying ..." I agree and again punch my tremulous hand into the bottoming crack. If only I can execute this one crux move, I'll get an incut jug- hold, can rest on it before the final section. I'm afraid to eyeball my crimped hand, jokingly jammed in the shallow crack. It  must  hold my 190lbs, on an overhanging wall, and this seems ludicrous, impossible.
My body has jittered in this spot for millennium, but that hummingbird has moved but one centimeter. My jammed hand says "NO WAY!," but that other little voice adds "might as well try it." I pull up slowly - my left foot is still pasted to that sloping edge - and that big bucket hold is right there ... I almost have it," I do!," and simultaneously my right hand rips from the crack and my left foot flies off that rugosity; all my weight hangs from an enfeebled left arm. Adrenalin rockets me atop that Thank God hold when I press my chest to the wall, get that 190lbs over my feet and start quaking like no metaphor can depict.
That hummingbird is halfway to Rio before I consider pushing on. I would rather extract my wisdom teeth with vice grips. Dancing black orbs dot my vision when I finally claw over the summit. "Looked a little shaky," Bachar croons, flashing that candid, disarming snicker.
That night, I drove into town and got a bottle, and Sunday, while Bachar went for an El Capitan day (3,000ft.), I listlessly wandered through dark desert corridors, scouting for turtles, making garlands from wild flowers, relishing the skyscape, doing all those things a person does on borrowed time."

Bale wrote:

That Honnold line might be the best of the movie. Something like, “if you live, you’re a hero, if you die, you’re an idiot, but you’re still the same person.” 

Also, I think it’s worth noting that Alex Lowe, MAL, Guy Lacelle, Jess Roskelley, David Lama, Micah Dash, Charlie Fowler and many others were killed by avalanches, not falls from the cutting-edge technical terrain for which they were famous. Be careful out there. 

Don't forget about people like Brad, Skinner, Mallory, etc, that died on descent.

MattH wrote:

Honnold’s wrong - from an observer perspective you’re not the same person either way. The guy who makes it home after a night at the bar might know his limit or might’ve just gotten lucky, but the guy who crashes sure didn’t know his. 

Because an athlete pushing his personal limit after years of training is the same as a drunk driver. Great metaphor.

Because an athlete pushing his personal limit after years of training is the same as a drunk driver. Great metaphor.

1. /RATE LIMITED RAGE POSTING

phylp phylp wrote:

As I have followed through this thread, I have looked at many of the profiles of people who don't get this sense of "waste" I and the OP are sad about.  It's interesting to me that most of the people who don't get why we have these feelings are young men in their 20s and 30s.

When I was in my 30s and driving in the dark of night towards a climbing destination I had a terrible car accident.  In the few microseconds where the car had left the road and was hurling at 60 mph into the unknown - a cliff, a rock face? - I knew with certainty that I was going to die. Images of all the people I loved flashed through my mind.  Three words came crystal clear - "what a waste".  The waste was the waste of the long life I wanted to have so that I could continue to have that love.  Then the no-airbag car hit a giant conifer and was it was totaled, but I lived. Even since, no possession or experience has been as valuable to me as the experience of sharing that feeling of love with other beings.

With all these deaths of people at such a young age, whether it's from a climbing accident, or some kid in their bedroom who gets killed by a gangbangers stray bullet, or a car accident, I feel the sadness of "what a waste".  Not for the suffering of those left behind, but that that human being won't have the precious time to experience the joy of just being alive.  At my age, 69, I appreciate even more every day what a gift that time is.  It's not the way that he died that bothers me especially much, it's that he died so young.

Anyway, I've never argued that people should not climb.  Everything has risk. I myself am fully aware of the risks of climbing and all the other risks of life.  I have probably done hundreds more "leader must not fall" pitches in my life that you will ever do in yours.  We, as climbers, are constantly making that assessment of what we can do "safely" even though we know it is never safe.  That's the analysis and internal bargain that we make to allow us to experience something that gives us joy. 

In climbing, if you find the right balance for yourself and your skills, sometimes you get lucky and you have a long and wonderful life.  Sometimes you get unlucky and you get injured or die. Sometimes shit just happens. But there is also this saying "you make your own luck".  You notice in the film none of the other accomplished alpinists seemed to be saying - "oh yeah what he's doing is great, keep going for it dude".

BTW, I didn't know what or who the film was about when I started watching it.  I thought it was going to be filled with beautiful mountains and somebody like Conrad Anker doing a narration.  Or something funny but awesome like Sean Villanueva O'Driscoll.  If I had know it was going to feature film of that type of soloing, I would not have watched it.  

I do really appreciate your perspective, as you bring up, it's one I don't have yet.

Like the comment about soloists, everyone glorifies them when alive then it switches to "what an idiot, what a shame" when something inevitably happen.  I certainly don't disagree with it.  Maybe it comes down to what they personally value their life at-whether that's a right or wrong valuation.

Honnold’s wrong - from an observer perspective you’re not the same person either way. The guy who makes it home after a night at the bar might know his limit or might’ve just gotten lucky, but the guy who crashes sure didn’t know his. 

bryans wrote:

I'll get roasted here, but that's OK.  

EDITS: ....to clarify things I didn't say but people read into my comment....

....and to add things I thought were obvious but apparently aren't.....

This is MP.  

We checked our crystal screens. None read anything into your comments that wasn't there and it's obvious to everyone you're wrong on both counts.

M Rox wrote:

I'm glad people like Marc exist. I'm glad there are a few brave people in the world willing to take big risks for their craft. That doesn't lesson the tragedy, but I do think the world would be a very boring place if we all did things the same way.

There are over 7 billion people on this planet. To imply that we should all adopt the same formula for happiness (spouse, kid, dog, 9-5) is naïve at best. Everyone is different and everyone is on a different path (and not all of those paths will be long). We all prioritize different things. We're all gonna die. We're all gonna hurt someone when we go. 

He didn't die soloing, so that whole argument is kind of null-and-void in this case. He died in an avalanche. Even with the best technology, crew, and safety measures, you may never stand a chance in a big enough slide. 

I see no evidence of exploitation. Marc wasn't famous. He did lots of things under the radar. 

All that said, I partly agree with the original post. Climbing media glorifies the "send at all costs" mentality and I've seen that have a very negative effect on new climbers. Lots of people are heading up mountains with all the stoke in the world, and no technical skills. I had this conversation with a climbing friend just yesterday; we both were concerned about the hoards of new climbers who are just going for it without preparation. It's cool to be bold and gritty sometimes, but those things alone won't save you when things go south, and they will go south. I wish people were more proactive about taking formal courses and seeking qualified mentors. But I'm not sure any of this is new. Does climbing media have a responsibility to warn those bright-eyed, bushy tailed newbies? Or are they just storytellers, telling a story worth telling? I don't know.

^said as an almost 30 female with no attachments other than a really great dog, so take it with a grain of salt. 

Marc said it himself, things change when you're being filmed, even if they can't help you. He even tried to escape the filming but not wanting to abandon their investment they tracked him down and talked him back into it. It seems that no one actually talked to the guy about dialing it back, they just kept encouraging him to follow his psych or whatever baloney.

No one gets to decide that someone else's life and death was a waste. You don't have that power. He's dead. You are saddened by that. Just accept that fact. It will do you a lot better than shouting into the wind about whether he was exploited. That will change nothing and only make you angry and frustrated. Acceptance is the pathway to peace.

The length of a life has no value.  It's what you do with it that counts.

This guy pursued his goals relentlessly.  He pursued his heart without compromise and used his talents to the fullest.   That kind of life is worth infinitely more than someone who plods for 120 years but does nothing special.   

Steve SolidRock wrote:

The length of a life has no value.  It's what you do with it that counts.

This guy pursued his goals relentlessly.  He pursued his heart without compromise and used his talents to the fullest.   That kind of life is worth infinitely more than someone who plods for 120 years but does nothing special.   

The False Assumption is that this is the only life Marc Andre could have lived whereas in fact a world of limitless other possibilities for him was lost when he got killed. 

That's what's sad.

Ryan Never climbs wrote:

time for another name change old man 

why don’t you just accept how he chose to live his life ? 

I am not obligated to accept a public suicide as anything other than such. Nor should anyone else that actually cared about him.

You guys would probably say "a heroin addict overdosed on accident but at least he died doing what he loved..."

There's no difference at the end of the day.

John Tuttle wrote:

You guys would probably say "a heroin addict overdosed on accident but at least he died doing what he loved..."

There's no difference at the end of the day.

What are you advocating here? The end of mountaineering? He died on a rope with a partner in an avalanche. This has happened to many mountaineers and is an accepted risk the same way that trusting sometimes sketchy toprope anchor setups is an accepted risk. People seem to forget that climbing is an inherently dangerous activity wether that be climbing in the gym, at your local crag, or on a large mountain. Is every instance of someone climbing a public suicide? Because while I can concede that soloing may be, Marc-Andre died while doing things the standard way for mountaineering?

I can understand that people feel certitude about right / wrong, valued / wasted, good / bad. It feels secure. Like one could then weather life’s storms unshaken about those earlier decisions, or could get to the end of life and die believing  most was done purposefully and correctly. It leads many to stack one enabling decision upon another to accomplish what most feel represents successful lives.

And accomplishing that isn’t easy even though the individual may know themselves best, difficult even if aided by “objective” counsel from time to time.

Going a step further, I suspect that - on average - a parent after some experience has a better understanding of the privilege of applying one’s views on another human being in the hope those views will work for their child.  And shared genetics can help tip the balance towards parenting generally working out. I mean, even a parent may come out of it feeling they made the right choices while not realizing how much actually depended on alignment of genetics.

So, there is potential for a net loss when one person’s views of what is best is superimposed  upon essentially arbitrary peers, sometimes to the point of damaging another’s life … said even within democratically established  laws. True respect allows for the unknown of what’s best for another, whether in the past or not. Much else comes from simple ignorance … of which I have about many things.

It is easy to miss the mark in judging whether someone else should have made or should make different life choices. Many posting with certitude have much to learn about life. 

It's interesting how as a collective we judge the death of some 23 year olds as acceptable, necessary and heroic (war) and others as shameful (a certain kind of climbing, because cragging accidents are sad but unavoidable). Marc-Andre lived a hell of a life. Value isn't judged solely on longevity. 

I always appreciated Will Gadd's eulogy. I think he agrees with others who shrug and say we're all wired differently. 

And so it goes. Marc was the real deal when it came to climbing. Many talk lots about climbing while doing little of it, but Marc did it full bore, voraciously, with mindful intention. An average year of Marc’s career involved more climbing than ten “normal” climbers. He put the bar as high as he could reach with full commitment and skills won through true obsession. I respect that a lot. Did he push too far? His death would seem to answer that, but I’d argue that he was being what he had to be in the same way a wolf has to hunt. You don’t ask a wolf to be a purse dog, and Marc lived as a full-on wolf. His nature was to climb in a way that scared the shit out of a lot of people, including me. Wolves always scare the domesticated, their bloody teeth and freedom remind us all of what it means to be truly wild. To lunge at life with everything, unchained. Each wild solo said, “Hey, this is what it means to be free and alive!” And we would wince and call him crazy, because if he wasn’t then we were. The comfortable will say he went too far, but shiver with every distant howl of the wild and free. When I hear the howl I’ll think of Marc. Peace to his pack.

I am fully on board with climbing appealing to addictive tendencies but I suspect the person making heroin analogies doesn't know very many heroin users. 

A K wrote:

If he died soloing on camera, that would be one discussion. But he didn't. He died the same way dozens of skiers, mountaineers, and snowmobilers do every winter. Are they also "heroin addicts?" Calling it public suicide is just willfull ignorance.

It's convenient for the narrative that he didn't die on camera, had he died while filming the movie never would have been made. However, Marc's march towards death is all to obvious as the filmmakers made his name based on the risks he was taking.

^^^^^ we are all marching toward death