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anquetil, alone. paul fournel (translated by nick caistor). pursuit books hardback 137pp illus. £10.99

"For every champion there has to be the story of the smooth-cheeked adolescent, sitting on an improbable bicycle. who has just outdone his much better equipped elders on the climbs, heralding future victories."

anquetil alone - paul fournel

to the uninitiated (ie those who don't like it), jazz is an inscrutable musical genre. the world is full of folks who claim not to like jazz, but it's such a wide-ranging form of musical expression that i doubt there are many of those naysayers who dislike all of it. and just like pretty much every other form of music, jazz has its subsections: trad, bebop, post-bop, neo-bop free-form, swing. the list is seemingly endless.

however, the principal differentiator from other styles of musical expression is a preponderance of improvisation by its participants during which the better practitioners have the opportunity to display the level of virtuosity they have achieved at any given time. it would be wrong, however, to consider that jazz improvisation is all about showing off; it is mostly about resolving themes within the confines of the tune's chord structure and it's here that jazz most often fits into a relatively loose straightjacket.

the opening statement, or head arrangement is played by most, if not all the musicians on the bandstand, after which, each is allowed a flexible amount of time to say whatever it is they feel they have to say in the moment, before joining once more for a reprise of the beginning. that's frequently why a live performance can be substantially different than the recorded version, unlike rock and pop which prides itself on sounding exactly like the record.

and biographies, at least those from the word processors of cycling's movers and shakers (and their attendant ghost writers) published within the past few years, seem also to follow a set format, though this one is all too often a tad more blatant in its construction. the opening chapter usually concerns either a high point or low point of the career under consideration before we nip back in time to a happy or unhappy childhood (delete as applicable) before detailing a career that quite often has hardly begun. seemingly gone are the days when the subject of detailed biographies were well into their dotage and able to look back on a long and often successful career.

and then there's paul fournel's biography of jacques anquetil entitled anquetil, alone, a slim, yet perfectly formed volume that ignores any rules to which biographies might tenuously be supposed to adhere. and it is quite superb.

fournel, once a regular contributor to rouleur magazine and author of several other cycling books is french cultural attaché in london and a key member of literary group oulipo. his writing is of a standard that most of us can only step back, admire and fervently wish we could achieve by ourselves.

"Anquetil enjoyed the blessing of the winds. His pointed nose and face like a fine blade sliced the road open for him, and his whole body flowed behind it..."

to all intent and purpose, throughout the narrative of this book, fournel is anquetil. though it's positioned as a write of admiration to a cyclist who featured in posters on fournel's bedroom wall, the author frequently interrupts his own recollections to offer anquetil's 'personal' view of salient points in his career.

"I'm wedded to the crown of the road, at its highest point. I don't cut across at the bends, saving myself having to descend and climb back all the time. I leave that line to the cheapskates, the penny-pinchers."

it would likely be unrealistic to expect every biography to adopt this form; it's not every (or any) author who can bring a life of the great and the good to the reader in such an original fashion. in the manner of those who recall where they were when elvis passed away, it might be prudent to remember where we were when the art of the sports biography was thoroughly redefined in such a dramatic (in all senses of that word) approach. each chapter is presented in what might be described as an ad hoc means; it's as if fournel has suddenly remembered an associated anecdote that will enhance the chapter's perspective. it's a highly effective device that bears all the hallmarks of the jazz improvisation mentioned above.

"Raymond Poulidor, who set off three minutes before Anquetil, is about to be caught. [...] 'I couldn't see him pedalling,' Poulidor confirms, 'he was gliding along.' "

it would be hard to deny that there is also a certain degree of sycophancy on display, part and parcel of fournel's adoration of his childhood hero. while the more regular biography may concern itself with a warts and all approach to its subject, anquetil, alone is sparing of the gory details. where anquetil's gastronomic excesses have often been derided as a form of arrogance, fournel presents them as the french rider's method of intimidating his competitors. and who is to say that's not the true meaning?

" It's psychological warfare: the lobster thermidor he eats is a weapon against his opponents on a diet..."

it is plain that, in truth, there would have been no anquetil without poulidor, a point that has been made many times in the past. the former was even said to have pointed out on his deathbed that, once again, poulidor would take second place. this rivalry extended to anquetil instructing his team-mates in the 1964 giro d'italia to neutralise any attacks by a young rider by the name of polidori, ahead of him in the general classification. it was a sporting feature frequently curated by the media of the day; when anquetil was victorious in the tour of sardinia where poulidor did not compete, the press all but ignored the win in favour of looking towards the next match between the two frenchmen.

anquetil is also renowned for his devil-may-care attitude towards the ingestion of performance enhancements. referring to the rule "created in belgium" preventing doping, he declared "...it is discriminatory and unpleasant for a professional cyclist. We are men, not horses, and it's our duty to combat the law, which offends our dignity and creates suspicion." i fear he may not have fared well in today's stricter, aigle directed regime.

there's a perceivable danger that anquetil, alone might be viewed every bit as much about the author as his subject, something that biographers would generally and studiously attempt to avoid. but in the light that this is possibly the finest (and most concise) biography of jacques anquetil, surely that ought to count in its favour, rather than being viewed as veiled criticism? unlike many published biographical testaments, this particular edifice contains no index, something that many will see as a blatant and grievous omission. but paul fournel has given us a uniquely crafted insight into the mind and actions of one of cycling's greats, a book that has to be read and not function as an academic reference. great writing takes many forms and those of us in thrall to the velocipedinal milieu should be eternally grateful that our sport has attracted the enthusiasm and attention of arguably its greatest wordsmith.

"In the grupetto of miniature plastic riders on my table, the yellow jersey was always Jacques Anquetil."

sunday 24 september 2017

twmp ..........................................................................................................................................................................................................