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A review by thisotherbookaccount
Seven Years in Tibet by Heinrich Harrer
4.0
In 2015, I had the privilege of travelling to Tibet, and it continues to be one of the most unique destinations that I have ever travelled to. Even though I am not a particularly religious person, I was moved by the fervour of the Tibetans. Tens of thousands of Tibetans would circle the Potala Palace (in a clockwise direction) every day, chanting prayers and spinning their prayer wheels. We saw pilgrims prostrating along roads, one painful mile at a time, just so that they can make their way from remote villages to Lhasa, Tibet's capital. Even after decades of oppression from Communist China, Tibetans and Tibetan Buddhism continue to thrive in this part of the world.
However, there is no denying that Communist China's influence on Tibet has taken root — and it is not difficult to notice it, either. Police and military posts are everywhere within and without towns and cities; men with machine guns patrol checkpoints along major highways, and our passports and permits had to be checked several times throughout the trip. Then there is the soft takeover of Tibet, with shops being taken over by Chinese merchants and Chinese signboards. In fact, 99% of the original Tibetan houses have been torn down and removed over the decades, replaced by buildings that look like any other second- or third-tier city in China. So even though the pilgrims continue to arrive in the Holy City, everything within it is but a shade of what it used to be half a century ago.
That is the reason why, in a way, I am glad that I hadn't read Heinrich Harrer's Seven Years in Tibet before 2015. If I did, the trip would have been filled with sadness and regret, knowing what Tibet used to be like before the Chinese invaded.
Harrer's account of Tibet — a free Tibet — comes from a place of genuine love and passion for the place, and it shows on the page. What I love most about his writing, somewhat stiff and pragmatic as it is, is that he doesn't allow his western biases to enter his accounts. Often you find travel literature written by westerners about their journeys through 'exotic' parts of the world. While that's all fine and good, they often can't help but to bitch and whine about how dirty and uncivilised everything is. In fact, even though this book singlehandedly piqued my interest in the genre, I have found very few books that do not spot that arrogance and superiority.
Harrer is different, and maybe it is because he's born an explorer and mountaineer. From a young age, he's always had a fascination with this part of the world, which is perhaps why his account of Tibet feels genuine, pure and unadulterated. By no means does he agrees with everything about Tibet, of course. In a section of the book, Harrer speaks of frontier justice in Tibet, and how the smallest crimes like theft can have grave punishments for the perpetrators. From his perspective, it doesn't make much sense, but he accepts things as it is, because that is how the locals do it. I really like the way he makes an effort to integrate himself into the Tibetan society and makes himself useful throughout the seven years that he was there. He wasn't writing a book about a week-long trip to an 'exotic' place, and he wasn't there for some sort of eat-prey-love bullshit. He's there to tell stories.
And the stories are great. On one level, you can read this book as one man's — or rather, two men, since he journeyed through most of the book with his friend — arduous journey, on foot, through some of the worst terrains on earth. On the other hand, you can read this book as a historical account of a civilisation in its heyday. You can also read this book as an intimate look at the life of the Dalai Lama through Harrer's friendship with the God King. Even though this part of the book takes up just 2–3 chapters, it is still a fascinating look at an otherwise larger-than-life character.
Which brings me to my frustrations, not with the book but what happened to Tibet. You see the Chinese invasion through Harrer's eyes, and he's very objective about the whole situation. While the Chinese were obviously the aggressors, Harrer doesn't shy away from the fact that the Tibetans were way too passive with regard to their responses to said aggression. The Chinese had already invaded Tibet for 10 days before Lhasa got word of it. Even while fellow Tibetans were dying and fleeing on the frontlines, people in the capital were oblivious and carried on with their lives and various festivities. Even when the Chinese came knocking at their doors, all the Tibetans did was to pray, and prayed very hard they did. Instead of mustering an army or calling for foreign aid, they called in their best oracles. They were complacent and, in some ways, too laid back for their own good.
So for me, it's frustrating to read about how the Tibetans didn't fight for themselves, and how they basically gave their home away to the invaders. And, as an atheist, it becomes even more frustrating to see how the Tibetans placed their bets on religion and superstition, when the invaders were coming with guns and bombs.
Still, this is a great book for anyone with any passing interest of Tibet. While it may not be the most exciting read of the year, it does have a special place in 2019's reading list. A recommended read.
However, there is no denying that Communist China's influence on Tibet has taken root — and it is not difficult to notice it, either. Police and military posts are everywhere within and without towns and cities; men with machine guns patrol checkpoints along major highways, and our passports and permits had to be checked several times throughout the trip. Then there is the soft takeover of Tibet, with shops being taken over by Chinese merchants and Chinese signboards. In fact, 99% of the original Tibetan houses have been torn down and removed over the decades, replaced by buildings that look like any other second- or third-tier city in China. So even though the pilgrims continue to arrive in the Holy City, everything within it is but a shade of what it used to be half a century ago.
That is the reason why, in a way, I am glad that I hadn't read Heinrich Harrer's Seven Years in Tibet before 2015. If I did, the trip would have been filled with sadness and regret, knowing what Tibet used to be like before the Chinese invaded.
Harrer's account of Tibet — a free Tibet — comes from a place of genuine love and passion for the place, and it shows on the page. What I love most about his writing, somewhat stiff and pragmatic as it is, is that he doesn't allow his western biases to enter his accounts. Often you find travel literature written by westerners about their journeys through 'exotic' parts of the world. While that's all fine and good, they often can't help but to bitch and whine about how dirty and uncivilised everything is. In fact, even though this book singlehandedly piqued my interest in the genre, I have found very few books that do not spot that arrogance and superiority.
Harrer is different, and maybe it is because he's born an explorer and mountaineer. From a young age, he's always had a fascination with this part of the world, which is perhaps why his account of Tibet feels genuine, pure and unadulterated. By no means does he agrees with everything about Tibet, of course. In a section of the book, Harrer speaks of frontier justice in Tibet, and how the smallest crimes like theft can have grave punishments for the perpetrators. From his perspective, it doesn't make much sense, but he accepts things as it is, because that is how the locals do it. I really like the way he makes an effort to integrate himself into the Tibetan society and makes himself useful throughout the seven years that he was there. He wasn't writing a book about a week-long trip to an 'exotic' place, and he wasn't there for some sort of eat-prey-love bullshit. He's there to tell stories.
And the stories are great. On one level, you can read this book as one man's — or rather, two men, since he journeyed through most of the book with his friend — arduous journey, on foot, through some of the worst terrains on earth. On the other hand, you can read this book as a historical account of a civilisation in its heyday. You can also read this book as an intimate look at the life of the Dalai Lama through Harrer's friendship with the God King. Even though this part of the book takes up just 2–3 chapters, it is still a fascinating look at an otherwise larger-than-life character.
Which brings me to my frustrations, not with the book but what happened to Tibet. You see the Chinese invasion through Harrer's eyes, and he's very objective about the whole situation. While the Chinese were obviously the aggressors, Harrer doesn't shy away from the fact that the Tibetans were way too passive with regard to their responses to said aggression. The Chinese had already invaded Tibet for 10 days before Lhasa got word of it. Even while fellow Tibetans were dying and fleeing on the frontlines, people in the capital were oblivious and carried on with their lives and various festivities. Even when the Chinese came knocking at their doors, all the Tibetans did was to pray, and prayed very hard they did. Instead of mustering an army or calling for foreign aid, they called in their best oracles. They were complacent and, in some ways, too laid back for their own good.
So for me, it's frustrating to read about how the Tibetans didn't fight for themselves, and how they basically gave their home away to the invaders. And, as an atheist, it becomes even more frustrating to see how the Tibetans placed their bets on religion and superstition, when the invaders were coming with guns and bombs.
Still, this is a great book for anyone with any passing interest of Tibet. While it may not be the most exciting read of the year, it does have a special place in 2019's reading list. A recommended read.