Tracing the steps of a yeti hunter

Going off in search of someone who has disappeared is a classic theme in travel and adventure stories, whether it be Captain Grant, Livingstone, Kurtz or Grabot. Spain's most original, circumspect and mythologizing literary traveler, Gabi Martínez - author of the splendid Sudd - goes after a real-life modern adventurer in his latest book, Sólo para gigantes (or, For giants only). Jordi Magraner was a Frenchman of Valencian origin who was born in Casablanca and ended up climbing the mountains of Hindu Kush in search of the Abominable Snowman, no less. He eventually fell in love with that scenery of greatness, legend and risk, and became every bit as fascinating himself as the creature he was after, before being ultimately murdered.

In Sólo para gigantes, Martínez sketches a portrait of Magraner, an extravagant individual of questionable character, who even comes across as odious at times. Displaying nothing short of obsession, Martínez explores every last aspect of his biography to the extent of exposing himself to some of the same dangers that Magraner faced, and which resulted in the latter getting his throat slit, along with an indigenous child who was his disciple, in a remote corner of Pakistan where the Taliban prospered. It is a dark, hypnotic book, the chronicle of a personal fascination that leads us to remote, majestic and Kipling-like locations in Nuristan, a hotbed of adventure throughout the centuries. The story is also a journey into the darkest and most remote corners of the human soul.

One rarely finds a writer who has been so affected by his own book. Martínez seems to literally have been sucked up by the story. He looks lean and tormented, as though he and Magraner had collided at some existential crossroads. "You talk about the Yeti and you get smiles," he says without the slightest hint of a smile, sitting in the lush garden of the cozy Hotel Alma in Barcelona. This is a very appropriate place to meet, and not just because of the plants, but also because "alma" is the way Russians refer to the Yeti or Abominable Snowman.

"Someone who goes off in search of the Yeti, or Barmanu as he is known in Hindi, is someone I like from the get-go. But when you see that this is just the tip of the iceberg of a fascinating life, you feel compelled to go deeper into the story, which is the kind of story that deserves to be told," he says. The book, which he describes as "a non-fiction novel," teeters on the edge of reality, but the author emphasizes that when you have such an incredible story as Magraner's to work with, "you don't need to make anything up."

Martínez notes that the process of writing all of his books has changed him in some way, but none as much as this one. Magraner had very dark, repulsive sides to him, and even a fascist streak. And then there is the sexual issue. "I was aware, while I was writing about him, that there were aspects of his personality that would be unsettling and reprehensible to the reader. But at the same time there are also many positive ones. For instance, his decisive contribution to opening a humanitarian aid route through the mountains thanks to his relationship with Ahmad Shah Massoud, the Lion of Panjshir, or his determination to defend the local traditions of the Kalash pagans, who are surrounded by Muslims. That is why I got into the story. It afforded an exceptional opportunity to explore the human condition, for better and for worse."

The writer underscores that Magraner was a man of action and a real character who had the privilege of experiencing a period of historical change in one of the most extraordinary spots in the world. He was someone who went off in search of a dream (although he did not find the Yeti) and who saw how international circumstances turned his piece of paradise into a living hell. It was simply not the same roaming the most abrupt areas of the border between Pakistan and Afghanistan in fatigues and infrared glasses during the 1980s, and to do so following 9/11.

Gabi Martínez follows Magraner's adventures up until his mysterious murder in 2002, at the age of 43. His dreams of greatness and pristine mountains, his interest in the natural sciences which derived into cryptozoology (his thesis on the Yeti is based on the work of Bernard Heuvelmans, author of Sur la piste des bêtes ignorées (or, On the trail of unknown beasts), his expeditions, his failed attempts at earning respectability in scientific circles, his progressive immersion into Kalash society, his knowledge of the land and the people, all made him someone who amounted to something in the area.

In Magraner's story, there is an increasing disenchantment and dulling of the senses. There were even accusations of pederasty. "It is one of the hypotheses for his murder, along with espionage or drug trafficking. I merely make note of it," says the writer. The crime was never solved. "The police investigation was pitiful. There is an interest in not having people know more about the case."

As for his own theories, Martínez says that, "Magraner was a bother. It was easy for some people to believe that the zoologist was in fact a spy. He was in the way, and he was disposed of."