The Boys in the Boat (Anglais) Broché – 1 janvier 2014
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Description du produit
In a sport like this—hard work, not much glory, but still popular in every century—well, there must be some beauty which ordinary men can’t see, but extraordinary men do. —George Yeoman Pocock
This book was born on a cold, drizzly, late spring day when I clambered over the split-rail cedar fence that surrounds my pasture and made my way through wet woods to the modest frame house where Joe Rantz lay dying.
I knew only two things about Joe when I knocked on his daughter Judy’s door that day. I knew that in his midseventies he had single-handedly hauled a number of cedar logs down a mountain, then hand-split the rails and cut the posts and installed all 2,224 linear feet of the pasture fence I had just climbed over—a task so herculean I shake my head in wonderment whenever I think about it. And I knew that he had been one of nine young men from the state of Washington—farm boys, fishermen, and loggers—who shocked both the rowing world and Adolf Hitler by winning the gold medal in eight-oared rowing at the 1936 Olympics.
When Judy opened the door and ushered me into her cozy living room, Joe was stretched out in a recliner with his feet up, all six foot three of him. He was wearing a gray sweat suit and bright red, down-filled booties. He had a thin white beard. His skin was sallow, his eyes puffy—results of the congestive heart failure from which he was dying. An oxygen tank stood nearby. A fire was popping and hissing in the woodstove. The walls were covered with old family photos. A glass display case crammed with dolls and porcelain horses and rose-patterned china stood against the far wall. Rain flecked a window that looked out into the woods. Jazz tunes from the thirties and forties were playing quietly on the stereo.
Judy introduced me, and Joe offered me an extraordinarily long, thin hand. Judy had been reading one of my books aloud to Joe, and he wanted to meet me and talk about it. As a young man, he had, by extraordinary coincidence, been a friend of Angus Hay Jr.—the son of a person central to the story of that book. So we talked about that for a while. Then the conversation began to turn to his own life.
His voice was reedy, fragile, and attenuated almost to the breaking point. From time to time he faded into silence. Slowly, though, with cautious prompting from his daughter, he began to spin out some of the threads of his life story. Recalling his childhood and his young adulthood during the Great Depression, he spoke haltingly but resolutely about a series of hardships he had endured and obstacles he had overcome, a tale that, as I sat taking notes, at first surprised and then astonished me.
But it wasn’t until he began to talk about his rowing career at the University of Washington that he started, from time to time, to cry. He talked about learning the art of rowing, about shells and oars, about tactics and technique. He reminisced about long, cold hours on the water under steel-gray skies, about smashing victories and defeats narrowly averted, about traveling to Germany and marching under Hitler’s eyes into the Olympic Stadium in Berlin, and about his crewmates. None of these recollections brought him to tears, though. It was when he tried to talk about “the boat” that his words began to falter and tears welled up in his bright eyes.
At first I thought he meant the Husky Clipper, the racing shell in which he had rowed his way to glory. Or did he mean his teammates, the improbable assemblage of young men who had pulled off one of rowing’s greatest achievements? Finally, watching Joe struggle for composure over and over, I realized that “the boat” was something more than just the shell or its crew. To Joe, it encompassed but transcended both—it was something mysterious and almost beyond definition. It was a shared experience—a singular thing that had unfolded in a golden sliver of time long gone, when nine good-hearted young men strove together, pulled together as one, gave everything they had for one another, bound together forever by pride and respect and love. Joe was crying, at least in part, for the loss of that vanished moment but much more, I think, for the sheer beauty of it.
As I was preparing to leave that afternoon, Judy removed Joe’s gold medal from the glass case against the wall and handed it to me. While I was admiring it, she told me that it had vanished years before. The family had searched Joe’s house high and low but had finally given it up as lost. Only many years later, when they were remodeling the house, had they finally found it concealed in some insulating material in the attic. A squirrel had apparently taken a liking to the glimmer of the gold and hidden the medal away in its nest as a personal treasure. As Judy was telling me this, it occurred to me that Joe’s story, like the medal, had been squirreled away out of sight for too long.
I shook Joe’s hand again and told him I would like to come back and talk to him some more, and that I’d like to write a book about his rowing days. Joe grasped my hand again and said he’d like that, but then his voice broke once more and he admonished me gently, “But not just about me. It has to be about the boat.”--Ce texte fait référence à l'édition CD .
Revue de presse
(A New York Times Editors's Pick; An IndieNext Notable Pick; A B&N Best of the Year selection; finalist for the Washington State Book Award)
"An ideal pairing of talent and material."
— Mary Roach, The New York Times
"A remarkable book...hard to put down."
— The Seattle Times
“A compelling read…capturing the stories of heroism and loss with imagination and attention-grabbing skill.”
— The Minneapolis Star-Tribune
“This deft slice of regional history will attract disaster and weather buffs as well as fans of Norman Maclean’s standout book, Young Men and Fire.”
— Publishers Weekly (starred review) --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition CD .
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The research is mostly based on primary resources, including interviews with some members who were still living as the book was pulled together. Family members did supply additional information to make this undertaking feel solid and well thought out.
Concepts from Daniel Brown to consider that are mixed into the story to teach all of us: 1) One of the fundamental challenges in rowing is that when any one member of a crew goes into a slump the entire crew goes with him. 2) There are certain laws of physics by which all crew coaches live and die. The speed of a racing shell is determined primarily by two factors: the power produced by the combined strokes of the oars, and the stroke rate, the number of strokes the crew takes each minute. 3) To defeat an adversary who was your equal, maybe even your superior, it wasn't necessarily enough just to give your all from start to finish. You had to master your opponent mentally. When the critical moment in a close race was upon you, you had to know something he did not- that down in your core you still had something in reserve, something you had not yet shown. 4) The things that held them together--trust in one another, mutual respect, humility, fair play, watching out for one another--those were also part of what America meant to all of them. There are other great ideas to ponder in this epic almost 400 page, could-not-put-down story.
I am not giving away anything by telling you that they DO win Gold at the 1936 Olympics. It is HOW they did it that is so darn exciting. Even knowing the end result does not diminish this bigger than life adventure. This is a must read, period.
Daniel James Brown has beautifully crafted a nonfiction book with all the elements that make a great novel: gripping plot, unforgettable characters, dramatic conflict, and heart-pounding suspense. Injecting suspense into a story where the outcome is known is quite a trick, but Brown accomplishes it superlatively.
We meet the nine boys as college freshmen at the University of Washington in 1933. In the middle of the Great Depression, most of them are valiantly trying to stay afloat financially in order to stay in school. None had ever rowed anything larger than a rowboat; the main incentive in trying out for crew was the possibility of a part-time campus job if they made the team - no athletic scholarships here. The story follows one boy in particular, Joe Rantz, whose childhood deprivations rival those of Oliver Twist and who had to resort to some enterprising artful dodging of his own just to stay alive. The nine boys, their brilliant but frustrated coach Al Ulbrickson, and their team guru, renowned boat builder George Pocock, overcome obstacle after obstacle in their quest to represent the U.S. and win gold in the 1936 Berlin Olympics. As the best storytellers do, the author kept me continually on the edge of my seat; just as soon as one incredibly hard challenge- miserable training weather, economic hardships, wily opponents, devious Nazis - is surmounted, another even more daunting one is thrown in their path.
Seamlessly juxtaposed with the crew cliffhanger is the story of Hitler's engineering of the 1936 Olympics as a showcase for Nazi Germany, removing all traces of anti-Semitism and presenting Berlin as squeaky-clean and as wholesome as Disneyland.
Many light moments are interspersed with the strife and drama. My favorite is an incredible adventure the boys had when they took the coach's launch out onto the Hudson River on an evening before the national championship Poughkeepsie Regatta. I won't spoil it for you here, but what happened to them then could never happen now; it's one of the many unforgettable anecdotes in this book.
In fact, many of the elements in this story are incredible. If this had been a work of fiction, I might have found fault with the author for exaggerating at times in order to emphasize a plot point. But in fact, Daniel James Brown did meticulous and exhaustive research, and the events portrayed here are no author's fabrication - it all really happened! Brown's skill in relating this true story to make it seem as if you're reading an enthralling novel, is what elevates "The Boys in the Boat" to the extraordinary level. Don't miss this remarkable, inspiring book!