In Jon Krakauer’s Three Cups of Deceit he systematically discredits and exposes Greg Mortenson’s philanthropic ventures and literary exploits as no more than a scam and a swindle, in which Mortenson earned a fraudulent fortune by selling the American public wholesale lies. What’s more, the fictitious narrative was packaged and sold as nonfiction literature!
While Krakaurer’s account is backed by solid reporting, insider sources and a personal connection to the story, Krakauer manages to maintain a controlled grace throughout, best portrayed toward the end of the piece by his patient and persistent attempts to let Mortenson comment for himself and a final reach to understand how Mortenson behaved.
There’s a strange dichotomy going on here, where Krauker is performing a seemingly ruthless takedown, but his skillful reporting, and careful choice of words make it a graceful, insightful journey as well. Seeing Krakauer expose Mortenson’s empire of lies was like witnessing a skilled surgeon, or seeing Muhammed Ali in the ring.
Krakauer is, himself, a character in this story. He was one of the unknowing donors whose hard earned money helped to pay for Mortenson’s plane tickets, hotel rooms and tens of thousands of books – securing a spot on the NYT Bestseller’s list. If Krakauer wanted to, he could have easily ranted and preached and yelled. I know, I’d want to.
Instead, it’s as if Krakauer’s approach was to report, report, report. He let his sources voices and his exhaustive reporting lead the narrative. Krakauer had endless sources: Mortenson’s K2 hiking buddy, the various Pakistanis who hosted or “abducted” Mortenson, confidential reports from CAI hired accountants (I wish I knew how he got that source?), CAI staffers, former board members, the various CAI financial reports, various Afghan correspondents, among others. And Ted Callahan, was a phenomenal source. The working model throughout was to lay out what Mortenson said happened and then to sequentially show what the reporting revealed. The facts spoke for themselves.(I think that this Byliner.com, novella-length approach is an excellent form, in that it allows so many sources to make it into print!)
I also think it’s interesting that Krakauer has this type of tenderness in his storytelling style. He refrains from judging the character’s and instead guides the reader through his findings. In Into the Wild and Under the Banner of Heaven he focuses on characters that act in disturbing, self-serving ways, then he tries to understand the best he can why and how these things happen. In his Three Cups of Deceit piece there are certain similarities. Krakauer certainly tries to understand how somebody could have acted in a disturbing fashion. I got the sense he wished he could explain ‘why’ as well. Perhaps the tangle of lies was too thick to ever truly understand what compelled Mortenson. But Krakauer’s prose has this restraint, where even though he’s revealing a disturbing pattern of behavior, he refrains from outright judging or admonishing Mortenson.
“Greg may have used smoke and mirrors to generate the hope he offered, but the illusion made people feel good about themselves, so nobody was in a hurry to look behind the curtain. Although it doesn’t excuse his dishonesty, Mortenson was merely selling what the public was eager to buy.” Pg. 68
Other notes upon reading:
- There’s an interesting pacing, I thought. The primary emotional punch in the story, for me at least, was when Krakauer revealed that all profit from Mortenson’s books went directly into his own pocket, and even worse the foundation paid for many of the books and all of the expenses to promote and write the books. I thought this was even more startling fact than the existence of ghost schools. However, this fact is in the middle of the narrative. Up until the moment that it’s revealed Mortenson’s could believably be characterized as man with good motives, who was pathologically lying for a good cause. I would imagine that the thievery would be the type of thing that would be tempting to put up front, but Krakauer strings us along into it. The information comes on the heels of the Mother Teresa bit and Jennifer Wilson’s “I never would have thought him as evil” bit.
- Krakauer’s primary voice is in his sources and reporting, but he has this really nice syntax where after a chunk of reportage he rehashes then makes point with really tight summary sentences. His words are used very economically. Such as:
“It’s a compelling creation myth, one that he has repeated in thousands of public appearances and media interviews. The problem is, it’s precisely that: a myth.” (pg.6)
“What’s disturbing is not the amount Mortenson was paid, but that he lied about it—and that dozens of such falsehoods are strewn throughout the book.” (pg.29)
- Ted Callahan, the Anthropologist and one-time CAI employee, was gem of a source. To me, it’s a rare find to not only have a character who was in the right place at the right time but to have such an articulate person who can speak from a range of perspectives. Callahan was able to speak on behalf of the Kyrgrz in Afghanistan, was able to speak as a scholar in the field and he was able to speak as a former employee of Mortenson’s. He was crucial to the narrative, exposing Mortenson’s ridiculous story that he built the Kyrgrz’ school just in time for winter. Not only that, but his sound bites were some of the most articulate quotes in the piece.
- I said it in my first note but I’ll say it again. Krakauer’s placement of his numbers on all of the CAI financial info was nicely done. The numbers were startling and in a different narrative could be a lead. I’d be especially interested in learning how he got the confidential memo from the CAI’s hired accountant. I’d actually be interested in how he got most of the numbers.
I once tried to write a story about a homeless non-profit shelter where two former volunteers and clients went on record telling me how the director of the shelter manipulated them into sexual relationships, stole donations for himself and used the non-profit’s credit card to go out on the town. Unfortunately they were my only sources, and I got really frustrated by the lack of paper work filed by the nonprofit. In the end, nobody else talked and I couldn’t pull it together. Thus, I had a special appreciation of Krakauer’s takedown of this nonprofit.
You make a good point about the pacing. In the beginning, I was trying to find ways to justify what Mortenson did, however convoluted: Maybe he figured nobody would make it to remote villages, so he could fudge a little. Maybe he figured if Mother Teresa could be shady, he could too. None of which excuses him in the slightest, but it was how I was reading. Then, there's a moment (that's to me a little over the top) about Mortenson taking kids' lunch money--regardless of sentiment, at that point, I couldn't find excuses anymore and I found myself suddenly very unsympathetic. IIRC, that's where the facts get really damaging.
ReplyDeleteYeah the homeless-shelter story you mention sounds like a tough one. I'm guessing you checked all their 501(c)(3) filings, police reports, civil court records, etc. That kind of stuff only rarely shows up on paper but when it does, it's often your very best lead. Did you try the organization's board of directors? Usually what happens is that they all get incensed and either quit or go on the record—what happened in the GM case—and one good lead always leads to three. Also, just sheer observation. The housing authority director of a town that I once covered drove a very expensive Mercedes—now, this alone didn't necessarily mean anything but it was a good enough moment of "hmm, seriously?" to start asking some questions. If your homeless-shelter director was living in a castle and wearing Rolexes ... you get my point.
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