I bought this book a few years back, devoured it, put it in a drawer and went on with the day to day. Cleaning out some stuff recently I ran across it and dropped it onto the bedside table. I was between books and decided to read it again, this time probably a little slower than before. I remember it being a good book, but not this good. I came across page after page, quote after quote that spoke to me. After a bit the book started to take on a new shape with folded corners of pages causing a weird literary tumor of sorts in the upper right corner.
The Rider by Tim Krabbe is an intensely intimate look at a half day race from one rider's perspective. Kilometer by Kilometer, inch by inch the race is described in detail. The highs and lows, the suffering and pleasure is all laid bare for the reader.
Many have tried to make a case that the race is a great metaphor for the rider's life...it isn't. Make no mistake, the race is EVERYTHING to the rider. The race IS life to him, a life he believes he will either live or die by. The angels and demons he battles here are all on two wheels. Many of the riders begin to seem wraithlike as if death would be a welcome escape from the hell they seem to push through.
The Rider is an amazing piece of literature, an amazing read for any cyclist or fan of cycling, and beautiful portrait of the riders whose passion overcomes pain.
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