It is one of sport’s toughest ordeals and the ultimate test for professional cyclists. The Tour de France sees riders pitted against all kinds of terrain and weather, in unrelenting competition with their rivals for three weeks. This entertaining and highly-acclaimed book gives a compelling insight into the mystique of the race and the unique fascination it has always exercised on devoted bike fans and occasional enthusiasts alike. Graeme Fife’s Tour de France tells tales of great solo rides, amazing fortitude, terrible misfortune and triumph over the odds from the race’s remarkable history. Combining meticulous research with a pacy narrative style, Fife paints a colourful and memorable picture of the men whose exploits have give the Tour an enduring universal appeal.
An uneven history of the Tour de France, with forty percent of the book dedicated to the eight years up to publication (1998 to 2005) - at which the author was in attendance - with the other sixty percent covering the years from 1903 to 1997. Unfortunately, the years in the spotlight turned out to be the lowest point in the history of the race, first when the Festina scandal of 1998 revealed the systematic use of performance enhancing drugs in professional racing, and then when years 1999 to 2005 were ‘won’ (at least, at the time) by arguably the most unpleasant individual to ever ride in the peloton. A man who admitted subsequently to having blood transfusions after every stage of the race prior to any possible drug test (as well as mandating the use of the same drugs and test avoidance method by every other member of his team). Obviously, the author wasn’t to know how badly things were going to blow up in his hands, but perhaps if the book had been more even in its treatment of the years it would have mattered less?
As it was, I enjoyed the endless selection of amazing but true stories from the race. These men really are the toughest sportsmen on the planet (and thank God for the return of the Femmes version in 2022 after far too long a break - riders who can suddenly go massively off form while leading a race due to their other cycles, leaving make commentators trying to invent new euphemisms while their female colleagues are forced to just tell it as it is).
I love watching professional cycling, as does my wife, so I was always going to like this book despite any faults. Let’s face it - I read spares lists for bikes for pleasure, so tales of riders forging new front forks in blacksmith shops en-route was always going to work for me. But I’m not sure a neutral observer would enjoy the book so much.
It's that time of year again when I read a book about the Tour de France. While this one covers a lot of ground from its origins to more modern day doping scandals, it wasn't as absorbing as I'd hoped. It rambled on and I felt myself often thinking of other things and then reminding myself "oh, yeah, I'm reading this book right now. Where was I?"
On a good point, it doesn't just focus on the biggies that everyone knows. But, still the stories weren't really written in a compelling way.
The main takeaways for me is there have always been - and still are - politics, positive acts, bad behaviour, some back door dealing, a delicate attempt balance between commercial sponsorship and something that seems more authentic, and a populous attitude towards the Tour de France. It also remains a boys club.
The most interesting part, to me, was the discussion of the surveys of the French public and how they felt about the Tour and whether or not the attention brought to the towns through which it pass is worth the cost in fees, road and shop closures and cleaning up the resulting litter.
I like getting into the Tour de France every year. But, i didn't grow up with it, so I still have a hard time sometimes getting my head around the strategy and stages. This should be the book I want and need to really ground me in Tour de France history and lore, but it just didn't feel like it delivered. I'm usually a fast reader, and considering it took me longer to read the entire book than it took them to complete the Tour (which is 3+ weeks) I think that says something about it.
Second read - A comprehensive look at the Tour de France over the years by an excellent author who seems to have swallowed a dictionary. I certainly needed one by my side when reading this book and I thank him for extensively extending my vocabulary. I like the fact that he links in his own cycling exploits on the TDF roads to the exploits of the riders on these same roads. The detail and research needed must have been phenomenal so chapeau for that. In the end I found finishing the book hard work but my interest kept me reading. It’s a well written book but you have to be deeply interested in the TDF to finish it. First Read - It a long read but enjoyable and very detailed. The first part was historical and mixed up with the authors own cycling journeys, later, it settled down to a year by year description of the race. The authors very literary background meant I had to keep a dictionary handy and, in the course, of reading I learned quite a few new words. The finish is a bit disappointing; I felt he should have talked about the future of the race vis a vis cheating and drug taking, instead we got a eulogy about how glorious the race is, an approach that is hard to understand in view of the sordid events of the last 20 years (or more). I have always said that the mixture of an amazing race, history, cheating, and drugs played out in the magnificent backdrop of France, especially in the mountains, gives us cycling anoraks something to talk about. La Gloire…maybe. Le Doping…..for sure.
An absolute dog’s dinner of a book. In “Tour de France: The History, the Legend, the Riders”, Graeme Fife purports to be writing something approximating a history of the world’s most famous cycling race, but the book’s wildly uneven format – and the author’s hilariously myopic attitude towards doping – results in his endeavour failing spectacularly.
Rather than following a rigid chronological order, in the first half of the book, Fife gives an overview of the first hundred years of the Tour de France through a number of themed chapters, on topics such as mountain climbing, endurance, the yellow jersey, the French tradition of cycling, and so on. Admittedly, there is some good material in this section, like the background of Henri Desgrange, the eccentric first organiser of the Tour De France, and Fife is enlightening on the almost feudal hierarchical system that exists within the peloton.
Then, Fife spends the second half of “Tour de France: The History, the Legend, the Riders” giving highly-detailed – to the point of tedium – recaps of each edition of the race between 1998 and 2013. These recap chapters are interminable, seeming to detail every intermediate bonus sprint and every last flat tire. But far worse a crime than merely being boring, is that Fife minimises the rampant doping that wrecked so many editions of Le Tour during this era and that almost irrevocably destroyed the race’s credibility.
In the edition of the book that I read (2013, i.e., long after the author should have known better), Graeme Fife seems determined to act as a human shield for Lance Armstrong. So, the reader must endure unintentionally hilarious passages where Fife lauds “Armstrong’s modern scientific preparation” and describes the American’s battles with the similarly doped Jan Ullrich as “tough duels, cleanly fought”. While the only rational reaction to such remarks is deployment of the crying-laughing face emoji, Fife combines his ludicrous defence of Lance Armstrong with a series of sour, ad hominem attacks on Greg Lemond – perhaps the saintliest man in sport. By the time that Fife quotes approvingly (and apparently with a straight face) Lance Armstrong accusing other cyclists as “behaving without honour”, the author’s mealy-mouthed defences have reached the level of performance art. The net effect of this obfuscation is that you will, having read Fife’s book, be less well-informed about the modern era of the Tour de France than if you’d read nothing at all.
Towards the very end of the 2013 edition of this book, in the aftermath of Lance Armstrong’s confessional interview with Oprah Winfrey, Graeme Fife makes a complete volte face and admits that maybe professional cycling has some issues with doping that it needs to confront. But by then it is too late to salvage the authority of this book.
Cycling is a sport that is well-served by the quality of its reportage and sportswriting, but this book is a notable exception to that maxim. Instead, “Tour de France: The History, the Legend, the Riders” deserves little more than to be flung into the back of the broom wagon.
Rarely has such a wealth of material been given such ham-fisted treatment. Almost anyone except Graeme Fife could have written at least a 3- or 4- star book on the Tour almost by accident given the same treasure trove of information.
This was a 2-star book until the yearly recaps at the end, where it descends into angrier and angrier screeds against Lance Armstrong. Most of these are much weeping and gnashing of teeth about how Lance just kept winning and winning. Fife's main argument every time he feels the need to interject his opinions instead of his facts is that the reason Armstrong kept winning is because he calculated better, thought about things better, and trained harder than everyone else instead of "deserving" to win through whatever it is all his favorite riders who didn't win couldn't be bothered to do.
This book can be safely skipped with little loss of history about or appreciation for the Grande Boucle.
I had an edition that ended at 2000 so it missed almost all of the Armstrong years. Not particularly well done .I did enjoy the history from the early years, however.
I feel somewhat conflicted about this book after having read it. Much depends on the person behind the book, as there are at least a couple of ways this book can be interpreted. Is the author to be taken as a cultured European who loves road cycling and who appreciates grit and skill, and who would be a pleasant conversation partner over a few glasses of wine to talk about the pros and cons of tactical racing as part of a professional team or being a lone wolf who continually attacked the peloton and racked up combativity points? Or is the author to be taken as a snob who harbors a bias against Americans and who is a Luddite who prefers an era when cyclists and conditions were far poorer than they are at present? Either is possible, and the end result is that as a reader one has to determine whether they think the reader is a classy if somewhat old-fashioned bon vivant who loves road cycling or a haughty and snobby person who lets his class and cultural biases overwhelm anything remotely approaching objectivity. How one appreciates this book will depend greatly on which choice is made about the character and demeanor of the author, to a far greater extent than is usually the case.
The organization of this book is somewhat odd, in that there are really two competing systems of organization warring against each other. The first two hundred pages of this book are divided thematically according to a scheme that is based on some of the most notable hills (cols in French) and mountains that are regularly featured on the route of the Tour de France. In this section we read about the battle between fear and moral strength and read an extended encomium by the author to the greatness of Eddy Merckx, the fighting spirit of Hinault, the tours of the 1920s and 1930s, the short-lived greatness of Coppi and the "modern era" of cycling, drugs in the sport of cycling, and the struggles of British riders. The last hundred pages consist of chapters about the 1998 through 2003 (Centenary) Tour de France races, showing the effect of rising official hostility to the increasingly prevalent and pervasive doping regimens of Tour de France riders and the first five victories of Lance Armstrong which were later revoked due to his own doping. In these chapters the author comes off rather poorly, as he badmouths Lance Armstrong (which is admittedly easy to do in hindsight) for his cluelessness in upholding the culture of European cycling and for being somewhat cold blooded and tactical in his approach. The author comes off as being as much of a jerk as Lance Armstrong does, which is not particularly flattering to either of them, although it is clear that the author is not merely a hater, but at least somewhat of a nostalgic critic of the race, seeking to honor those who give everything for cycling not only in the Tour but during the entire racing season, which is not done as often these days as it was in the past, apparently.
So, what kind of person would be interested in this book? Well, the market for this book as a read on its artistic merits is somewhat mixed because the author has a somewhat disorganized approach to cycling history that blends a travelogue and a history without being sufficiently robust in either, and with a chronological set of chapters tacked on at the end that are highly obsolete although interesting as histories of a few of the most notable races of recent years. For the most part, this is a book that is designed to appeal to those who are fans of the Tour de France and of road cycling in particular [1]. If you are not a fan of that challenging and difficult sport, it is likely that there will be little in this particular book that will be of great appeal. For those who are a fan of the Tour de France on at least a casual basis, this book will either make one like the people who run the sport a lot more or a lot less, but will leave few indifferent, though likely a few readers will be left conflicted.
Listening to this book I felt that it was a nice background listen doing chores and going for runs. But somehow I felt that although it covered a lot and had a lot of interesting stories about the Tour, it lacked the red thread and structure somewhat that would have made it so much better easily. Maybe it was the abundance of names and jumping between history and modern times that made it hard to follow the thread.
A decent primer on "the big loop", a bit of a page turner at the beginning, but by the end I couldn't wait to finish the damned thing.
It's poorly written (ahem - editor, please?) to the point that it's literally impossible to follow the narrative - partly because each chapter is littered with irrelevant, self-absorbed meanderings on his dinner, or his ride up a col, or whether the sheets in his hotel were soft enough.
Add to that his high-horse bloviating and egregious attacks on American riders (i'm no patriot, but this is ridiculous) - and it became fairly unreadable about half way through. His inconsistent moralizing on doping in the tour drove me crazy (some guys get a pass - others are tossed aside like empty bidons).
A long book. The author interweaves his own experiences of cycling the great climbs with accounts of the history of the event since it's inception in 1903. For me, his accounts of his ascents are a distraction, but the book gives a very thorough account of the history of the most grueling race the sport has. Having said that, the edition I read is a few years old now, I believe the latest was published in 2011, I'm sure there are a lot of inconsistencies with what we have since learnt of the antics of Lance Armstrong, etc. So it will be interesting to see if any forthcoming edition puts the record straight. There is a lot of egg on a lot of faces since Armstrong owned up (to some extent), but the true story has yet to come out.
Fife divides many of the chapters in this book by mountains that show up in the Tour de France. He doesn't really stick to stories about rides up or down that mountain, or even to stories involving the Tour. He intersperses some of his own touring experiences with passionate, breathless descriptions of heroic performances. He celebrates bravado and anything Eddie Merckx ever did and chastises uninspired, robotic riding (which routine disdainfully tacks on Indurain). Fife writes fast, lively prose in a book that is clearly by a great fan of the sport with limited appeal to anyone who is not a fan.
I nearly gave this book three stars because it is filled with some fascinating accounts of the personal struggles and achievements of the riders of the Tour de France and at times really captures the imagination. Mr. Fife really has done his research. However, the book becomes a bit of a ramble. No doubt Mr. Fife has literary talent but in this book he fails to focus that talent. I'm an avid reader and rarely have to re-read things but the book is strewn with digressions that often make you feel like a re-read is required. Certainly a book for the cycling and Tour de France fanatic but I was left somewhat disappointed.
I picked this up cheap in a charity shop as i've been a fan of Le Tour for quite a number of years and I was looking for some interesting history of the race. There's no doubt that's what is contained here, but the writing was usually hard to follow. Swinging between years, riders, teams and stages, there are some interesting anecdotes and I did get what I wanted really, but it was just not coherent enough in the end. I really struggled to finish the book, especially once it got to the individual years at the end.
A bit too much repetition - how often do we need to hear that Anquetil was a bastard that cared only for winning, in contrast to Poulidor, the eternal second with so much class - but well done. As a chronology or a reference, it is insufficient. This is more anecdotes strung along a personal history of encounters with the great climbs of the Alps and the Pyrenees. But Fife is an engaging story teller.
A rambling overview of the Tour's history. Fife doesn't handle the early history very well. He jumps around and doesn't know how to tell a story. It gets better as he starts to review the modern Tour, beginning with 1998 or so (around page 200). His editors should have cut the first 200 pages.
Fife uses his journey climbing the most famous Col's to tell some of the great Tour de France stories. He also recounts the last 10 tour's in detail. This is a big book - too big - with plenty of tales of extraordinary physical feats and legendary characters.
Really enjoyed the authors description of his own experiences climbing the mountains and the way these were interwoven with facts from the history of the tour. The later year-by-year additions, while interesting, weren't quite so enjoyable.
Some interesting stories in this book, but it does jump about a bit and is by no means a comprehensive history of the TdF. Easy and quick to read though.