EDITING THE ALPINE JOURNAL

JOHANNA MERZ

WHEN Harish Kapadia did me the honour of inviting me to write about editing the Alpine Journal, he asked me for an account of my own experiences, together with 'a bit of history and a small look at the future'. 1 felt, therefore, that it would not be appropriate to write a sequel to the three articles by T. S. Blakeney which appeared in the 1970s under the title 'The Alpine Journal and its Editors'¹, even though a further article, bringing the story up to date, is perhaps overdue. I hope that someone will eventually write about the previous editors; meanwhile, the notes that follow will be unashamedly personal.

Having joined the Alpine Club somewhat late in life, I am often asked what made me take up mountaineering in the first place. An important trigger was the sudden discovery of mountain literature. Strangely, I had never before come across Whymper's Scrambles Amongst the Alps or Mummery's My Climbs in the Alps and Caucasus until they were lent to me by a friend, together with R. L. G. Irving's The Romance of Mountaineering. I was immediately entranced by the beauty and excitement of the mountain landscape portrayed in their pages. Classics such as Herzog's Annapurna and Diemberger's Summits and Secrets soon appeared on my bookshelves, together with some brilliant contemporary writing including Peter Boardman's The Shining Mountain, Joe Tasker's Savage Arena and Chris Bonington's volumes of autobiography. I was also in touch with Jack Baines for second-hand books and soon I had built up quite a substantial mountaineering library.

At the same time I set out to qualify for the Alpine Club and by 1986 I had achieved the necessary number of routes in the Alps. It so happened that Ernst Sondheimer had just taken over the editorship of the Alpine Journal, and it occurred to me that I might be able to contribute something to the Club by offering my services as an assistant. At that time I knew very few members and my visits to the old, austere premises at South Audley Street were something of an ordeal. All that changed when I met Ernst. He took up my offer of help with enthusiasm and soon I was typing up copy, deciphering Michael Ward's difficult handwriting and even starting to learn the principles of copy editing. Sometimes Ernst would correct me:

'You can't have a sentence without a verb,' I had suggested dogmatically.

'But climbers don't talk, much less think, in whole sentences,' Ernst pointed out. 'You must keep the flavour of the original.' So I had to accept, reluctantly, that Phil Thornhill thinks in short soundbites 'A final plod. It's there! It's got to be. At last. The top. At last The Matterhom — and the most beautiful mountain, maybe — the most famous but one — in the world.'²

 

From time to time Ernst passed on to me manuscripts by authors whose native tongue was not English. I enjoyed the challenge of 'translating' Jerzy Gajewski's exuberant but impenetrable prose into something more amenable to British readers, but without nullifying 'the flavour of the original'. I'm still trying!

Early in 1988 Ernst invited me to become a third official 'Assistant Editor', along with Victor Saunders and Geoffrey Templeman who had already been helping him for some time with Area Notes, Book Reviews and Obituaries. Of course [ was honoured to accept.' 1988 was a fairly strenuous year for Ernst, since he was now working in collaboration with a commercial publisher, Century Hutchinson (through the imprint Frederick Muller), and his entire method of working had changed. Previously the Alpine Club itself had been the publisher, employing Swindon Press to handle typesetting, photos, printing and binding, and with West Col Productions looking after the distribution. At that time, the editor used to send copy to Swindon and receive galley proofs in return at regular intervals during the winter. This arrangement made it possible for him to involve helpers with both copy-editing and proof-reading. A disadvantage was that typesetting started well before all the articles had been received by the editor, making the planning of the book as a whole more difficult.

In 1987, during Ernst's first year as editor, it had become apparent that the Alpine Journal had problems. The cost to the Alpine Club of employing a printer to look after the production side seemed to be too high, and West Col were not being very successful with sales. Alan Blackshaw, then Chairman of the newly formed Publications Sub-Committee, enlisted the help of a literary agent who was also a mountaineer and a member of the Alpine Club. He negotiated a five-year contract with Century Hutchinson on favourable financial terms.

Aiming for increased circulation and sales, Century Hutchinson redesigned the Journal in a more modern format. At the same time, Ken Vickers of Cordee took over the distribution to sports shops. But things did not immediately run smoothly. There were problems in dealing with a large commercial publisher, largely because of complicated (and easily dogged-up) channels of communication. Century Hutchinson were finding their first volume more complicated to produce than they had anticipated, so there were serious delays. In late August, when all should long have been finished, Ernst had to correct the proofs while on holiday in the Orkney islands, sending them back by the last Datapost before a postal strike intervened! Matters improved thereafter, although crises did recur from time to time.

In 1990 I took over from Ernst the job of choosing the photographs for the Journal and planning their lay-out. Having formerly worked as a professional photographer, I found this aspect particularly interesting. However, the high standards achieved in some of the early volumes were difficult to match. Mountaineers like Vittorio Sella and, later, Douglas Milner used to transport large plate cameras and tripods up the mountain and their results were superb. But modern 'alpine-style' climbing discourages heavy equipment, and climbers use, almost exclusively, colour slide film, from which black and white prints have to be made later. For many years Frank Solari used to spend long hours in the darkroom carrying out this difficult task, which is now undertaken by the publisher's professionals.

The two photographs normally required for the new, coloured dust jacket posed quite a problem. Mountaineers seem to prefer to take 'view' shaped pictures rather than 'upright' ones; so that I used to go along to Random Century House in Vauxhall Bridge Road with no more than perhaps half a dozen to choose from. Paul Sidey, the editorial director, a kindly man with the preoccupied air of someone overburdened by the stress of his job, would sigh deeply and stare at the slides through a small magnifying glass to check whether or not they were sharp. 'This one might do at a pinch,' he would say, 'or perhaps that one, but I shall have to consult the designer.' Several weeks later they would come up with their verdict.

By the end of 1990 Ernst had produced four fine volumes of the Alpine Journal, with another in preparation. He decided that he would like to retire from the editorship at the end of the following year if a suitable successor could be found. Ernst is a man of wide interests: a keen climber and traveller, a sought-after translator, and an enthusiastic member of the Alpine Garden Society. It was understandable that he wished to spend more time on these and other activities. He asked me whether I would consider taking over. Initially I felt daunted by Ihe prospect: I had a good idea of the size of the task, the responsibilities involved, and the range of knowledge and skills that an editor ought to have. But I loved the Journal, I sincerely enjoyed the work, and hoped that enthusiastic commitment might make up for lack^of experience. But these matters have to go through committees. Alan Blackshaw asked Ernst and me to produce a paper describing how the Journal was at present organised and outlining some ideas for the future. Shortly afterwards I was accepted by the Committee as the new editor.

I had to set to work immediately, since it takes at least a year to assemble the copy for a Journal. I took very seriously the paragraph in the 1989 'Report on the Future Role of the Alpine Club' in which it was suggested that the Editor should commission articles 'grouped round the great issues of the day'. But what were these issues? One problem area seemed to be of growing importance, as much to mountaineers as to other people, the environment, and I decided, for my first volume, to devote a section to that subject. At the same time, I adopted a more structured form for the rest of the book.

But in the Alpine Club, as elsewhere, there is no such thing as innovation without controversy. One Club member complained that the section on the environment had strayed too far from the kind of material which the Alpine Journal ought to cover. I disagreed; for although, traditionally, it describes itself as 'A record of mountain adventure and scientific observation', I did not believe that these terms should be interpreted too narrowly. For one thing, our new publisher was keen that the Journal should appeal to a wider public than just the members of the Alpine Club. I was therefore aiming to make it a complete mountain year-book, covering any subject which has a bearing on mountains and mountaineering. In a review of the 1992 Alpine Journal, Stephen Venables spoke of 'the selfishness, overcrowding, erosion and debris that seem to be the unavoidable accompaniment to 8000m peak-bagging these days'; clearly, these are threats to our environment which mountaineers cannot ignore. Nor can they avoid noticing the changing conditions caused by receding glaciers and global warming. Whether or not these are caused by man's activities remains a matter of opinion, but I believed that the Alpine Journal was justified in discussing these and other controversial questions.

For the 1993 volume there was no problem about choosing a suitable theme. The 40th anniversary of the first ascent of Everest fell in May, and I decided that the Alpine Journal should celebrate the event with contributions, if possible, from all the surviving participants. Michael Ward kindly put me in touch with some of them and they all responded magnificently. But it ^vas necessary to find a new publisher. By the end of 1992 Century Hutchinson had completed its five-year contract and did not wish to continue. Many ideas floated back and forth at meetings of the Publications Sub-Committee, ranging from Hodder & Stoughton to a 'do-it-yourself arrangement, similar to the one we had before, which would have meant a lot more work for me. Eventually a Club member, Peter Hodgkiss of the Ernest Press, expressed an interest. Peter is based in Scotland, which at first seemed rather too far away. However, the difficulties of distance were more than outweighed by Peter's keen interest in the Journal. As I write, the 1993 Alpine Journal, my second volume as Editor, has just been published by the Ernest Press, and I was delighted to receive a characteristically warm and generous letter of appreciation from John Hunt. When I sent Ernst a copy, he commented: 'The charming tribute from John Hunt must be the best reward you could have had. If you get no others, that alone surely makes it all worthwhile.'

The help of publishers like Century Hutchinson and the Ernest Press has proved immensely valuable. I recently came across Edward Pyatt's plaintive account of the complicated process which he had to endure in 1978: 'Gone are the days when the Editor could concentrate on the literary aspects, for now he has to understand and appreciate the technological problems involved in the production. I sometimes wonder if Strutt, or Graham Brown or Tyndale would have relished the job as it is today.. .'³ I am happy to say that I have not been overburdened with technical problems for these have largely been undertaken by the publisher, leaving me free to 'concentrate on the literary aspects' most of the time.
One of the most satisfying things about my experience as editor has been the enthusiastic support I have received from colleagues. For example, it is easy to take, for granted the amount of time Geoffrey Templeman, for many years the compiler of the Book Reviews (ind Obituaries, has to spend reading nearly every mountaineering book published, leaving him little time to read anything else. In 1992 Roy Ruddle took over the Area Notes and has worked hard to find new < orrespondents worldwide and to keep in touch with the old ones. He has also introduced a new, improved format which has been widely acclaimed.

But it is the participation of Club members (and some non-members) which gives essential life to the Alpine Journal — obviously without Iliclr contribution it could not exist. Again I quote Edward Pyatt writing In 1978:

I do not know what to say of people whose promised contributions never arrive, who supply texts but ignore entreaties for pictures, who always know of someone who can do a job better than they can, who talk of the need for (a good Journal but will not offer anything towards one, Wrio never reply to letters or who reply once and then never again. They are an Editor's burden, which he could well do without.⁴

 

This criticism, surely calculated to discourage contributors, amazed me when 1 first read it, because it could not be further from my own experience. I have received nothing but support and encouragement and my burgeoning files bear witness to the fact that most members punctiliously answer letters — albeit sometimes later rather than sooner. As for articles, I have received more than I can possibly use and a larger choice of photographs than I can ever find room for. I take no credit for this happy situation, for it is surely an embarras de richesses inherited from Ernst Sondheimer (and John Fairley before him), who passed on to me a Journal in a state of highly satisfactory good health.

Looking ahead, it is impossible to detach the future of the Alpine Journal from the future of mountaineering itself. The AJ has never been a significant determinant of change: on the contrary, when mountaineers have tried, through their writing, to influence or halt what they saw as unpleasant innovations, they have always been unsuccessful. From time to time, developments such as front-pointed crampons have caused mountaineering to take a leap forward into previously unimagined realms of achievement, and these have been reflected in the pages of the Journal. At the same time, the climbing world has inevitably been influenced by events outside its immediate orbit, such as two world wars and, in particular, the advent of the aeroplane and easy travel. In the future, the Alpine Journal will seek to record the most significant results of this evolutionary process (for instance, the trend towards modest, alpine-style expeditions and away from large-scale, heavily-sponsored ventures). But besides being an important reference source, the Alpine Journal will continue to provide a comprehensive picture of current activity in the mountains and to encourage all that is best in contemporary mountain literature.

----------------------SUMMARY---------------------

A personal note on editing the Alpine Journal by the author, who is the current editor of the AJ.

 

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