| When the first climbers reached the top of Mount Everest, seventy years ago tomorrow, Western media sometimes framed the breakthrough as, predictably, a Western achievement. “2 of British Team Conquer Everest,” the Times headline began, describing the ascent as a “coronation gift” for Queen Elizabeth, who was about to be crowned. Perhaps this shouldn’t be surprising, given that, in much of the world, the mountain carries an English name even though it’s in the heart of Asia. A year after the historic climb, The New Yorker published its own piece about the expedition—but focussed its attention on Tenzing Norkay, the Sherpa who had been one of the first two men to reach the peak. (The other was Edmund Hillary, an explorer from New Zealand, funded by the British.) The staff writer Christopher Rand encountered Norkay (now commonly spelled “Norgay”) in Darjeeling, India, Norkay’s adopted home and a staging point for trips to Everest. Norkay’s triumph had brought him fame and prosperity, but also jealousy and headaches over “contracts, publicity, and politics,” which he likely hadn’t expected. “He is to some extent a prophet without honor in his own country,” Rand observed, a polite figure suddenly at the center of a debate over “whether he is a great man or only an able servant.” India and Nepal were at odds over Norkay’s nationality—he held passports for both—and religious and Cold War tensions flickered in the background. Life was hardly grim; the piece is full of charming details about the “extremely handsome” climber, including what he left behind at the top. Rand notes that both Norkay and Hillary insisted that they reached the summit together; neither man claimed to have got there first. “Since last year, there has been agitation to rename it Mount Tenzing,” Rand reported, “but it doesn’t look as if anything will come of this.” | 
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