Harrer was, I discover at the end of this tedious book, a Nazi, and a member of the SS no less. Small wonder then, that he makes no mention of this or of the crimes of Nazi Germany at any point in his otherwise detailed account of his time in Tibet during and after WWII. He is, however, often critical, even angry, about Tibetan culture. In 1946, for example, he describes with outrage the collapse of a poorly-constructed giant prayer pole that killed several people and injured many more. While the pointless nature of this tragedy is undeniable, the context of his criticism is breathtaking. He had just arrived at the capital city, Lhasa, and after many months on the run from a POW camp in India, finally catches up with news of the aftermath of the war. Europe and much of Asia and Africa had been laid to waste by fascism and militarism, and the whole world now knew the full extent of the horrors of Nazi brutality and the death camps. “Not exhilarating”, Harrer concludes blandly, noting his country was experiencing some “hard times.” No acknowledgment of his own connection with the organization that faithfully carried out the worst atrocities, let alone coming to terms with his complicity. No expression of disgust or anger over the deliberate industrial-scale murder of 12 million people. No, he reserves his indignation for a tragic accident around a religious ceremony.

Harrer hid his Nazi past, presumably aware it would not help the sales of his book, and his membership in the SS was not made public until it was revealed by a German magazine which published the information in the 1990’s. Articles appended to the edition I read do their best to contain and explain away these facts, seeking to cast Harrer as the last of the great explorers, but it’s shameful propaganda.

I wanted to read this book because I thought it would be an interesting story about the author’s relationship with the young Dalai Lama. I was disappointed. Most of the book is about Harrer’s experiences as he tries to escape across Tibet and frankly, although I am sure it was something for him, it quickly becomes repetitive and dull. Then there is much detail about him establishing a life in Lhasa, with observations about Tibetan government and culture at the time. I would estimate that less than ten percent of the book deals with his relationship with the Dalai Lama, and even that contains little or nothing of insight or interest. The rest of the book deals with the Chinese invasion in 1950, the military occupation of Tibet, and Harrer’s return to Austria.

Dull and infuriating in equal measure. Wish I had not read it.

The language is incredibly visual — and now I want to see all of these places myself. I did not expect to become so personally invested in past Tibetans’ fates! Harrer must have taken amazing notes — this book is detailed and charming, but he also somehow manages to hop through chunks of time and events without giving the reader pause.

I am entirely, emotionally affected by this book. Though the writing style in general lacked embellishments and so sometimes made it a little dry to read, I clung on to every page, particularly those describing Harrer's life in Lhasa and his interactions with the Dalai Lama. Maybe it was the numerous parallels that I was able to draw between the diverse characters in the book and my beautiful friends from Upper Mustang who, while geographically part of Nepal, are culturally and spiritually more akin to Tibetans. Maybe because I am so fascinated with the historical significance of this book, taking place in the seven years preceding China's invasion of Tibet, and the preservation up to that point of a thousand-year-old culture with pure spiritual traditions. Or maybe because in some ways I can identify with Harrer's feelings of being completely at home in a foreign land on the other side of the world. He says, "... part of my being is indissolubly linked with that dear country. Wherever I live, I shall feel homesick for Tibet". I cried all the way through the Epilogue which detailed the events that happened in the wake of the Chinese invasion, particularly as I have met and spoken with people who live in Tibetan refugee camps, never having known their home land because of China's refusal to let Tibet be free.

But I think what resonated most with me is the pure, unblemished nature of the Tibetans who so openly welcomed Harrer and his companion Aufschnaiter into their country and allowed such a unique insight into their beautiful culture. They remind me so strongly of the wonderful people I have met in Nepal. I connected with each one of them and loved reading of Harrer's interactions with them. I laughed and cried through this book, and have learnt so much that I am desperate to find out more.

Highly recommended - anyone with even a slight curiosity about this mysterious, hidden place and its Buddhist traditions, or even just with a craving for a wonderful travel story, should most definitely read this book.

This book has two distinct parts: [1] the difficult journey that Heinrich Harrer (author) and Peter Aufschnaiter had reaching the Tibetan capital, Lhasa and [2] Heinrich’s experiences and observation of Tibetan life while living in Lhasa.

In the first part, their difficulties were many – and it was, among other things, fortuitous breaks in the weather and chance encounters with kind Tibetan nomads that allowed them to even survive the journey. During this time, you see how difficult it was to travel at “the top of the world”, and you get a glimpse of the lives of the average Tibetan.

In the second part, Heinrich (and Peter) soon become welcome guests of the Tibetan upper class. At this point, the book switches to glimpses of the life of the upper class, the religious pageantry displayed for the devout (and superstitious) multitudes and cloistered life of the Dali Lama.

The book ends with the Chinese conquest of Tibet – and so the start, I assume, of the wholesale dismantling of the rich historical Tibetan culture described in this book.

While the writing was a little on the dull side, this is a really fascinating true story and I enjoyed it more and more as I read. I was surprised at how very isolated and primitive Tibet was in the 1940s. Harrer really loved the people of Tibet and that comes through in his writing. I loved reading about the young Dalai Lama. Such a character.

I've since watched half of the movie and will finish it at some stage, but it's pretty ordinary so far.

Wow! It isn't the most catchy writing or anything, but I was completely enthralled. He entered a world that almost no one had seen before and he happened to be there for the end. There is so much I learned about Tibet that I had just absolutely no idea about before.

It’s certainly great travel writing

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.