
The Ascent of Rum Doodle is a wonderful cult gem from English writer William Ernest Bowman (1911-1985). Published in 1956, it’s a satirical take on popular mountaineering non-fiction works from the 1950s.
It’s very amusing. And lampoons the various patriotic, Rule Britannia, stiff upper lip garbage us English folks are increasingly immersing ourselves back into. Let us explore its peaks!
Take the Hike of Your Life in the Ascent of Rum Doodle
Right, for some reason we only found out about it in June 2020. We’ve missed it entirely all these years! Absolutely ridiculous. Damn and blast!
Anyway, happenstance led us to it and we read it in a handful of days (it’s a novella). Brilliant it is, too.
It reminds us of Eric Newby’s twee A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush (itself a mild mockery of mountaineering works), but it’s much more subtlety biting.
A real jab at the way the English barge into situations with a mindless sense of exceptionalism and presume themselves to be superior. But then to do so in a disarmingly endearing way.
It’s basically the Withnail & I of the mountaineering world. The book remains a cult hit amongst those fond of scaling tall things.
The Ascent of Rum Doodle is a parody then (satire, please!) about the entirely fictional mountain Rum Doodle.
It’s the largest mountain in the world, don’t you know? Standing at some 44,000 and a half feet high in the Himalayas.
The Plucky Mountaineers
Our intrepid set of English heroes from The Ascent of Rum Doodle consists of:
- Tom Burley: Essentially the no nonsense strong man of the group and a major in the RASC.
- Lancelot Constant: The language translator. Probably the funniest of the lot. His minor failings with foreign grammar and syntax leads to a perpetual stream of raging arguments with locals.
- Ridley Prone: The doctor, who’s absolutely always falling ill with a bizarre set of diseases.
- Christopher Wish: The scientist utterly obsessed with measurements, many of which he disastrously miscalculates.
- Donald Shute: The photographer set to document the journey, whose experience and judgement are highly questionable.
- Humphrey Jungle: A radio expert and route finder. Arguably the most incompetent member of the lot, as his inability to find routes causes constant chaos.
- Binder: The well meaning, but intensely naive, leader (and narrator). You quickly realise he’s an atrociously hapless individual and provides an unreliable account of the Rum Doodle trek.
Right, so the book absolutely nails that sense of bumbling English eccentricities.
As that lot are pretty ineffective and (despite Binder’s chest thumping accounts) it’s clear they don’t work well together as a unit.
You get that right from the off. Meeting in a pub in London to finalise plans, Prone is too slammed out with cold to function.
Jungle can’t attend as he’s lost. And Wish is busy faffing about with an impossible scientific dream:
“Wish then outlined the scientific programme. In addition to investigations into the hypographical and topnological fossiferation of the area he hoped to collect new data on the effect of biochronical disastrification of the gencospherical pandiculae on the exegesis of Wharton’s warple. He also hoped to bring back a pair of each species of living creature found on the mountain in order to study the possibility of breeding mountaineers capable of living normal lives at high altitudes.”
Well, yeah, stiff upper lip and let’s be having you, then.
The Rum Doodle Expedition
After heading out to the Himalayas, the group meets the local Yagistani people out there, who communicate through an unusual mixture of guttural burps and speech.
Translator and diplomat Constant’s inability to fully master the language leaves him frequently engaging in the most furious shouting matches with the locals.
Especially the porters. It’s Constant’s error in pronunciation that sees some 30,000 porters waiting for the mountaineers’ arrival, when they really only needed 3,000.
Everyone must also deal with the terrifying Yagistani cook who accompanies them. This is Pong. Binder describes him as:
“Of all the barbarous three thousand, Pong was probably the most startling in appearance. His face had a peculiarly flattened look, as though it had been pressed in by a plane surface while it was still soft. This same flattening seemed to have spread to his soul, for a more morose, unresponsive, and uninspiring individual it would be impossible to imagine.”
Throughout the rest of the trek, Pong utterly haunts the Englishmen and their every move. With his presence and horrific cooking skills.
They fear him to such an extent, his continuous lurking behind them actually helps their relentless push up the mountain.
Binder continues to regale a heroic and successful journey to the peak of Rum Doodle. But it’s clear from his anecdotes and gullibility his crew don’t value him as a leader.
And the expedition isn’t exactly going swimmingly. Although there are the usual trips, slips, an falls that occur with mountaineering. Most notably when Constant plunges into a crevasse.
Binder is able to secure him via a rope and attempts to relay the translator’s broken Yogistani to Prone over radio. Who then informs the Yogistani porters of the predicament.
“My stomach and Prone’s were quite unused to pronouncing Yogistani. The noises we produced would have been a disgrace in any company; as vehicles of communication they were a total failure. Constant said that the replies which I passed on to [Prone] bore no relation at all to the problem under consideration. They would, he said, if uttered in the streets of Chaikhosi, result in imprisonment for life, if not worse. They were, he imagined, without precedent or parallel in the whole history of spoken language. He himself had never imagined that such statements were possible; if he ever came out of the crevasse alive he would have to reconsider his whole philosophy in the light of what I had said.”
Although the others appear to get on, as evidenced by the memorable drunken celebration on that crevasse (to which Binder isn’t invited) after the porters save the day.
Prone, meanwhile, continues on with his relentless series of disasters.
“[Constant] produced a first-aid manual and pointed out that the symptoms were exactly those of haemorrhage, except that the last two were missing, namely; insensibility and death. He said there was still hope. Prone then discovered that he had cut himself in the ear while shaving and was slowly bleeding to death. After stopping the bleeding by holding ice against his ear and afterwards treating himself for surgical shock and a frostbitten ear, he went down with Italian measles.”
And so they plod on up the Rum Doodle. Doddering, hapless, and then a series of further total disasters renders the entire expedition as pointless.
All of which Binder hails as a success, thanking all his crew for their sterling efforts.
And in gushing forewords at the start of the novella, there are demands that every schoolboy read the book twice, thrice, or however many times it’d take to stamp the spirit of Empire into them.
Book Your Trip to Rum Doodle’s Base Camp
Right… we must say this is the most enjoyable book we’ve read in a long time. Slight at 171 pages, but a joyous farce and very funny.
What’s amazing is this was written in 1956. Yet Bowman’s sense of humour, his sharp wit, is remarkably fresh and modern.
The book doesn’t feel old. Yet it’s clearly written in the 1950s, as many of the songs the mountaineers sing belong in skiffle groups and beer halls.
From Scarborough, Bowman was an engineer and writer. He served in World War II in Egypt as a radar instructor for the RAF.
After reading Bill Tillman’s The Ascent of Nanda Devi (1937), he clearly found the ridiculous English pomp and ceremony was crying out for lampooning.
And that’s what he specialised in, funny parodies lampooning that English sense of exceptionalism in completing dangerous (but kind of pointless) missions.
Think The Worst Journey in the World (1922) by Apsley-Cherry Garrard or Wilfred Thesiger’s The Marsh Arabs (1964).
Mighty fine books, we must say, but also a testament to stiff upper lip England. With a dwindling Empire, what better way to rouse a nation than to go off exploring?
Unfortunately, The Cruise of the Talking Fish (1957) was the only other major work from Bowman. Two books! Although he also wrote short stories and essays simplifying relativity.
It seems a shame he didn’t take his comedic skill further—on his own, the sadistic chef Pong is a work of genius. And that’s just the peak of the mountain of comedy gems on display here.
Well, he (Bowman, not Pong) clearly needs more renown than this. Our advice—go out and get yourself a copy of The Ascent of Rum Doodle immediately.
It’s short, sharp, and very bloody funny. A cult classic that needs to be taken up mountains and shouted about from the peak.
Wonderful review! I was sold here “ lampooning that English sense of exceptionalism in completing dangerous (but kind of pointless) missions. “ such fun
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Oh yeah, you think you have US exceptionalism, do you? Bring it on! My right leg is on fire, once I put it out, I’m available for punch-ups in Florida’s most adorable park!
Or just buy the book and read it. It’s great.
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I suggest you not come to Florida, thanks to our Leaders we are dying here. I’m not allowed to enter Europe or most places so that’s out. I don’t know when we can settle the issue. Good luck with the fire.
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I suggest you reblog this on your blog, as I’m in an English Empire sensibility. Rather! Also… you’re welcome in Manchester any day of the week. Just brace yourself for geezers.
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Oh! Thank you , Mr. W! To be welcome anywhere makes me all weepy. Perhaps if I wear a paper bag I can be smuggled back to Manchester. I’ll be at the Paddington station, you’ll know me by the paper bag.
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I don’t even know where Paddington Station is. London? If you’re expecting to crash at mine, it’s Victoria (Manchester) or Piccadilly (Manchester). In Manchester. The general aim is Manchester. It’s in England. I think.
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I’ll be at Piccadilly, I’ll bring marmite . You are too kind. I won’t stay long, never fear, a few months.
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Okay, fine, just sleep in my bathtub. That’ll do.
Also, buy this book, dammit. And watch WIthnail & I. And read this book. You’re getting more English by the second.
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With nail and I … I have to read that. I keep forgetting matey. It better make me smile.
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Withnail & I is a film. It’s on YouTube in full. Free. No money!!! Uh?
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Oh, okay. I think I got that, youtube, free, no money, Withnail….
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CORRECT!
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Let me write that down.
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What with, a pen?! LOL! Git wid duh thymes, lady.
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I’ll just star it.
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Eh?
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I designed this years ago, except not in paper. Mine is washable.You have to throw the paper ones out after wearing once. Originally, I named it the “Head Bag”. They come with a few various mass produced faces on them, so you could never be recognized. However, the term “Head Bag” was not catching on. I tried a rename…
Came up with “The Doutch Bag”… “Over Shoulder Boulder Holder Bag” , and “Bags For Hags” .
the project is currently on hold!
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This is no time to be on hold. Doutch bags, tapestry bag, a bag with a face on it ( Arnold Schwarzenegger will work) then I won’t have to worry about the geezer’s! I’m brilliant!)
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Maybe ‘Oron will finance the project if Arnie’s face has an exclusive?
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An exclusive what? I can arrange it if aI know what It is.
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Top secret, soz.
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secret … smekrick. Out with it.
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… the exclusive rights to print Arnie’s face on the Doutch Bags. Just think about it? Everyone will look like Arnold Schwarzenegger. ‘Oron would be very happy. When he makes his movies and TV shows that never happen, he could have as many Arnie’s as he wanted.
How much $$$ should we ask him for? It would just be an initial investment.
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We’re going to need a lot to cover the huge lawsuit with Arnie, probably not happy about his face on a Doutch Bag. I kind of feel the same way so don’t even think about it 😂. Let’s put ‘Oron on the …bag.
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He’ll make us use his Yellow Face. I’m not sure they’ll sell? It has to be the right face. I believe in the Doutch Bag! I think it could make millions!!!
Remember, it’s washable! This Doutch Bag idea of mine is totally Green. Green is in! Yellow…. not so much. 🙄
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Gosh, no yellow bags, but a yellow ‘Oron on green , now that sounds great! No…you’re the designer, I can’t be trusted.
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Hmm… let me work on that! I like the direction you’re headed in. What about a green ‘Oron on a yellow bag, with a shimmering green trim?
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I’m liking that idea. Esp the shimmer! 🙂
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OMG! his teeth could shimmer, too! 😬 🧐
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Oh Gosh simmer down. Shimmering teeth. I wanted that!!
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👯♀️ shimmering down 👯♀️
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Happy for teeth shimmering. That can only be a good thing.
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Huge lawsuit? Lol. Big Arnie’s mighty man muscles will smash that, lady.
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Big Arnold will sue the pants off us. He probably needs money, no?
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I think that’s what he keeps doing new, rubbish Terminator films. Got to pay the bills, eh?
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Sad it’s come to that eh?
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He’ll be back.
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This sounds fun. I’ll see if the library has it! I’ve got 3 books in queue first!
You do fab book reviews!
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Merci. It’s certainly the funniest book I’ve ever read, I’d say. Maybe steal a copy.
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Not a bad idea? Who’d recognize me? I wear a mask!
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Exactly! I’ve often felt like a lunatic donning my facemask just before entering a store. “It wasn’t me, guv!”
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