I love this series and I have all the books - so I know. It hurts me to only offer three stars but, simply, this one just isn't as good as the rest. First of all, it's nothing like as advertised above. There are 18 stories, but only 9 of those shown on that cover, which has been redesigned, too - I don't know what happened. Despite the publisher's notes above, there is NOTHING from Bonington, Venables or Davidson - no story of -148 wind chill on Mt. McKinley (the one I anticipated most). We got some wires crossed here someplace. Of the 18 stories you do get, 5 of them are fiction (including the 2 longest )- a greater percentage than any other in the series except "Dark". Of the 13 nonfiction tales, several have very little to do with survival as we've come to know it from earlier books in the series - they really just express wonder at nature. I'm surprised at the inclusion of "The Storm" by Junger - it fits, sure, but it's so well-known by now, and one of the best features of the Adrenaline Series has been how it introduces us to stories and authors we may not know. I do not mean to say that these aren't well-written pieces: the ones by Chaplin, Groom and Gann are riveting. I guess it just depends on what you expect. But don't let this book be your introduction to this awesome series; get High, Epic or Wild Blue instead, and if you've read them already, don't expect as much here.

As a collector of the entire series, no one awaited this book more than I. I feel let down. Of the 13 stories, (and it's only 318 pages, not 352), seven are fiction. These were not well chosen: selections from Treasure Island and Moby Dick are not even set at sea, but are the land-based openings of the books. The non-fiction does not live up to the billing of the editorial reviews that preceded it on this page. There is not much shipwreck or survivial: several are more like philosophical essays as opposed to stories with an edge. The story on diving the Andrea Doria is perhaps the best in the book, but many of us will have seen it elsewhere, as it is recent. Why a fictional account of the Titanic and not a true one? For a book on treasure, why nothing of Mel Fisher and the Atocha? If you want sea adventure, the earlier book in the series, Rough Water, delivers a bigger punch. This volume, regratably, is one that you can put down between stories.

As a passive individual, I live through the words and experiences of first hand authors for my adventure. This narrative simply scratches the surface of those before it. "Ship of Gold", "The Fatal North" and "Abandon Ship!" come to mind immediately as adrenaline rush examples. Any of the several publications on "The Endurance" far exceed the expectations of "Deep Blue". The human spirit has greater tales to tell.

In fact, you might wonder if it's even the book described above by the publisher. 290 pages, not 364, and there's nothing about beer barons, art thieves, or Son of Sam. No yuppie millionaires and no woman from the South Bronx. Much of what's in it could be crime from anywhere, not just New York. Here's an outline of what's there: 14 entries and one of them is fiction (why?). Five of the excerpts are from the late 1800's (including another excerpt from Asbury's Gangs of NY), two are pre-WWII and five are newer (including Bernhard Goetz). The remaining story is simply a detective's catalog of crime from over a hundred years - 87 thumbnails sketches, but these leave you wondering, because here are the crimes of New York: the killing that inspired 'Looking for Mr. Goodbar', the Preppy Murder (Chambers, who was just released), John Lennon and Hinckley. The Brinks robbery. These are the crimes that make New York unique, and in their day they were widely written-up, yet there's only a few lines on each. A book on NY crime without Son of Sam? Instead, the story of Wilby the embezzler, while interesting, could have taken place anywhere, and did, actually - part of the story is in California. The chapter on how sneak thieves worked after the Civil War, again, interesting, but surely they did the same in Cleveland or Chicago - very generic . . . This volume could have been titled simply "Crime", and frankly it was a bit disappointing. A couple of excerpts belonged more aptly in the series volume "Gangs", which was a far better book. Readers of the series will also note that the publisher has stopped using any photographs which used to jazz it up a bit. I own every book of this five-year old series, but if I had to lose one, this would be it.

I was looking forward to reading this book, as some of Venable's previous books have been pretty funny. Somewhere along the line, he seems to have lost his sense of humor, and without that, this story of his misadventures up high reads hollow and rather sad. If you're going to mess up while climbing with a team, and need to get rescued all the time (the other reviewers are right;Venables seems to have created a genre for his own "help, save me!" tales on mountains)you better be funny about it. However, this book is far too serious and self-righteous for its own good. In fact it reads more like a teenager's diary than a climbing tale--right down to the nasty things Venables prints about the very people who rescued him! The 300-foot fall in the beginning is the only interesting part in the whole book, and then it's literally, downhill from there. I'm sorry to say that this book reveals the author as more of a poor sport and poor writer than his previous books.

As I read Stephen Venables story of folly in the remote Himalayas I couldn't but help feel a certain contempt, if not sadness at the decline of British mountaineering. From Edward Whymper to Sir Christopher Bonington (a far better climber than Venables who nevertheless gets stabbed in the back by the author after he saved his life) the British climbing establishment was world renowned for good sportsmanship, positive attitude, and grace under pressure. Now, British alpinism seems to have been taken over, like so many other things in British society, by a yob mentality. This book is a case in point: It would not have been too long ago that a similar collection of whiney tales of questionable heroism where one's own mistakes are palmed off on one's teammates would have been met with scorn from the fair-minded British climbing establishment. No longer. This book actually got decent reviews in some UK climbing magazines (though, to be sure, a few "outed" Venable's inconsistencies with the facts). Future climbing historians, when examining how Britain ceded its leadership role in mountaineering, will be tempted to cite Venable's contemptible attempt at self-glorification by denigrating other climbers and celebrating his own mountaineering foibles as a milestone in poor attitude and even poorer taste.

On one level 'A Slender Thread: Escaping Disaster in the Himalayas' is a standard mountain expedition book, with the focus on Steven Venables' own experience. But throughout there is a dark undercurrent of premonition and doubt. Venables has a bad feeling about the expedition from the start : "there was a sense of unease, even doom when I set off for India". There is also a sense of futility, that the golden age of mountain exploration is long past, as he implicitly compares past expeditions to the area (the Panch Chuli group near the border of India and Nepal) with the one he is on. Gone is the conviction of purpose and the "gentlemanly camaraderie" of earlier times. In fact Venables shows himself to be anything but gentlemanly on this trip. Often out of sorts, half-wishing he were back home with his wife and child, Venables indulges in tantrums and verbally attacks Chris Bonington, the team leader, when Bonington suggests retreat..

As for the accident, it is the breaking of the Slender Thread that all mountaineers depend on at many time during a climb. A well-tested anchor pulls out below the top of Panch Chuli V, sending Venables on a steep fall that breaks both his legs and which he is lucky just to survive. This combination of bad and good luck, and his utter dependence on his companions for making it down the mountain, is the real story of this expedition for Venables as he recognizes that in climbing he is gambling with more than just his own life.

This is my least favorite of the three book by Venables I've read, though I did enjoy it. There is little of the excitement and freshness of 'Painted Mountains' or the combination of great accomplishment and fascinating route finding in 'Everest: Alone at the Summit'. However, it raises troubling questions about mountain climbing and faces them directly, and these questions, along with the detailed description of a remote and rarely climbed range, make this a book worth reading.