Semi-autobiography, semi-philosophical expository by Australian distance star Murray Rose. A triple gold-medalist at the 1956 Melbourne Games – then the youngest ever – Rose was less successful in Rome (winning a medal of each hue), triumphed 4 times at the 1962 Commonwealth Games, and was controversially excluded from 1964’s national trials. He established 15 world records in the 400, 800, and 1500 freestyle while being one of the first overseas recruits, to Peter Daland’s USC. Remaining in the US, Rose became a marketing professional, sometime actor, and NBC commentator. The book interestingly sketches his World War II expatriate parents but omits his first own marriage. Upon his 1994 return to Sydney, the Australian sports community lionized the vegetarian and devotee of Indian-turned-Californian guru Jiddu Krishnamurti. Most interesting are details of Aussie life and swimming in the 1950s. Most kids rarely wore shoes outside school; competitors had no goggles, often trained in bayside ‘pools’ or Manly reservoir, and did open turns against algae- and barnacle-covered walls. Rose liked competing in storms, from which he drew energy, and never had warmup pools; competitors false started to get a feel for water. In 1956, Aussies were the first cohort to shave. His best swims, he relates, were when absorbed in his own rhythm (p88); the first warning sign of fatigue is loss of mental focus; and the real challenge of sport is not competition but training the right way. One’s calling is not work but a craft: train not to get it right but to get it right when things go wrong, train for clarity and purpose not fitness. Hope not for victory but courage. His philosophy, which permeates the book along with contemporary pictures, is Eastern transcendentalist. Children are artificially ‘programmed’: the ‘opportunity to hold the window open to all the mysteries of life soon passes’ (p34). Is there not wisdom too in convention? By the book’s end, he has overdrawn: detachment (‘choiceless awareness’) is always good, everything must be examined; what of Burkean prejudice?
Swimming
1. Cox, Open Water Swimming Manual (5 Jan 2014)
Primarily comprises personal anecdotes from a distinguished career, observations from a Navy SEAL trainer on risk management, and lightweight marine life research. Forgettable.
2. Shapton, Swimming Studies (22 Jan 2017)
A wistful, ‘pointillist’ review of the author’s competitive swimming, applying her conclusions to her aspects of her artistic and publishing career. There are shrewd insights, such as athletes train through injury because only training makes them forget they are hurt, and glimpses of why athletic performance inspires spectators. Yet the author never articulates why she thinks she wasn’t good enough, or why she peaked in 1988 (having returned to compete in 1992). Further, although swimming clearly remains important, judging from the number of European swimming and bathing facilities she’s continued to visit, presented in a series of prints, or her suit collection, it’s unclear why she disdains to train for simple fitness or to consider open water competition. Separately, many promising anecdotes end too abruptly, more stylish than insightful. Still, the book is revealing and bracing change from ghostwritten superstar monographs.
8. Tsui, Why We Swim (9 May 2021)
A chipper but stretched essay into why people go swimming, often treating extreme circumstances such as survival or ice swimming. Poorly organized, the book attempts no framework or philosophy and so cannot reach any sort of conclusions.