The Rider by Tim Krabbé

Recommended by Mr Harris

As Tim Krabbé approaches the start line of the Tour de Mont Aigoual, a gruelling four hour road race that stretches over 137 km and 3 mountain climbs, he surveys the smattering of spectators that are sitting in the roadside cafés. 'Non-racers', he thinks to himself, 'The emptiness of those lives shocks me.'

Thus begins Krabbé's crawl from start to finish. Written in immediate prose, its 130 or so pages expose us to the consciousness of the competitor, willing to put his life on the line in search of personal glory. That his life is on the line there can be no doubt; as he lays his street clothes on the backseat of his car he reminds us that 'they'll stay that way until I put them on again, or until an official gathers them together after I've died in the race.' The question as to why Krabbé, or anyone, would be willing to put their life on the line for little more than pride and a measly 1000 francs prize is one that is constantly interrogated throughout the book. 'Why does the mountaineer climb the mountain? Because it's there.' Yet to Krabbé there is something insufficient in this answer, something that fails to get to the heart of the nature of achievement, the battle between suffering and glory. After all, 'being a good loser is a despicable evasion.'

To Krabbé, suffering is core to the human experience. He laments the 'woolly mice' we have become; 'They,' he writes as if the modern human is an alien creature, “still have bodies that can walk for five days and four nights through a desert of snow, without food, but they accept praise for having taken a one-hour bicycle ride.' As the suffering increases, so does Krabbé’s inability to control the prose. He lapses into nonsense, loses grip on the chronology, and takes comfort in memories of his past, memories that helped form the competitor he has become. In road racing suffering is par for the course; it is not your ability to avoid or numb pain that is put to the test; in fact, he argues, 'Road racing is about generating pain'. The racer, or the victor, is the person that is best able to harness the pain they experience to spur them on.

His fellow sufferers, the pack leaders, are depicted just as vividly as himself; these are the archetypal characters of any good quest story. There is the fierce rival, Barthélemy, the fading ace, Lebusque, the promising upstart, Reilhan, who won’t take his pull at the front of the peloton and so is branded a 'wheel-sucker', the friendly training companion Despuech, whose 'specialty was the sprint for sixth place; in that he was truly invincible', and the mysterious unknown who is referred to only as 'the rider from Cycles Goff'. Not just those in the race, but you are introduced to the characters that form the perverse history of the sport. There is the story of Maertens and de Vlaeminck, two standout favourites for the 1976 Tour of Flanders, who were so consumed with their personal rivalry that they allowed another group to beat them.

This is a short book, and should ideally be read at breakneck speed, not that there’s much that would want to make you put it down. It’s also not just a book for people who cycle. It can be read by cyclists, non-cyclists, readers, non-readers. It is as poignant as it is funny, and is infinitely quotable. Give it a go, or be a 'wheel-sucker' forever.