The Velominati are proud to present the following guest article by our community member Steampunk, who splits his time between peppering the site with his insight and humor and riding in the sacred Velominati colors.
Michael Barry is one of the great domestiques of the peloton; loyal, hardworking, a hardman, a true cycling aesthete – and an excellent writer. What follows is more than a book review; it is an account of Steampunk’s acquisition of the book, a fine description of the contents, and account of some of the discoveries and revelations it provided to this particular Velominatus.
Thanks, Steampunk, it would appear I need to go order yet another book from Rouleur.
Yours in cycling,
Frank
—
I have a new prized possession. A couple of weeks ago, Michael Barry paid a visit to my local coffeeshop. Because I don’t abide by Rule #11 (more on that another day), I was forced to miss the book signing and short ride, but I was able to arrange for a signed copy of Barry’s new book, Le Métier, to be held for me. Later that week, I picked it up, and spent that and the following evening poring through it. It’s taken me some time to absorb the book and situate it within my reading of cycling””both in my standing as a fan of the sport and as an avid cyclist. It’s a beautifully-produced, hardcover book from Rouleur, rich with numerous stunning photographs by Camille McMillan, most of them from 2008.
Barry’s words aren’t outdone by the lavish photography. Visit his blog, and you realize very quickly that he is a quietly thoughtful and articulate guy. This carries through in the book, which is a contemplative and moving account of the daily work of a professional domestique. The book is divided into four chapters: “Winter,” “Spring,” “Summer,” and “Autumn,” as though to present a year in the life. But rather than present a blow-by-blow tell-all of his adventures on the Pro Tour, Barry pulls back a little further, bouncing his narrative around a bit to provide not an autobiography but instead a melancholy documentary that is less about himself and more about””as the title indicates””le métier.
Le métier can translate loosely into English as “the job,” but a better translation probably revolves around something like “the trade” or “the craft,” stressing both technique and experience. In Barry’s hands le métier is also something just this side of an addiction. He describes in such vivid and painful prose the struggle and agony inherent in professional cycling””the crashes, the hospital rooms, the suffering, the travel, the stress, the exhaustion””that I found myself recoiling in guilt from my eager anticipation for the Spring Classics or the Grand Tours. By and large, Barry portrays a miserable existence, saved only by the fact that these select few are permitted””blessed””to make a living doing something they love, even if le métier is a far cry from aesthetic and beauty of cycling that drew them to the sport in the first place. This is the addiction. The tone and pace of the book are most peaceful when Barry describes his pre-season training rides around his home in Girona, Spain. In those excerpts, before the frantic training and racing that will follow, he seems at peace and the rhythm of the bicycle provides freedom. It is, of course, the same machine and the same activity that enslaves him the rest of the year, keeping him from family and milking every last ounce of power and energy from his body and soul.
He concludes the final chapter with the following:
Each cyclist fights an internal battle. Some fight on the bike because it gives them purpose and simplifies the complexities in life. Others escape. Others ride to fill a void. Others battle childhood disturbances. Others pedal for fitness or weight loss. We each have our reasons.
…
Over the hundreds of thousands of kilometers I’ve ridden, I’ve slowly come to realize why my desire developed and became an obsession. Without it, I struggle””I am anxious, unfocused, and tense. Cycling has become spiritual, as it is a passion that I can pursue in the natural environment. I can pedal away angst, find calm and clarity with the rhythmic motion and freedom. The commitment gives me focus; the love gives me panache. Whether it is pedaling to victory or training in the mountains, I find peace.
Michael Barry is basically Jens Voigt, but without the countless sound bytes and cult following. He is quiet and controlled. But he knows his job and he does it as well as anyone on the Pro Tour. He is the quintessential professional: grounded, committed, talented, and loyal (he offers genuine and persuasive portraits outlining the better qualities of former teammates Lance Armstrong and Mark Cavendish). He is also as smooth and natural a rider as you’ll likely find in the peloton. He was born to ride. But his personal victories are the team victories. His success is rarely tracked or noticed by cycling enthusiasts, but the massive pull at the front for long kilometres on end to catch a breakaway or to help set up his team’s train or to protect his team leader: this is honorable stuff.
And as the weather here””not far from Barry’s hometown of Toronto””takes a turn from hot summer to cooler and wetter autumn, echoes of Le Métier are evoked in my own riding. At all levels, good riding involves suffering. Out on a lonely spin early this morning in the crisp air, I can’t put myself at the head of the peloton pulling for my team leader, but I can appreciate the freedom of the ride, not dissimilar from the moments Barry clearly cherishes. I can feel the cold air straining my lungs as I climb out of the saddle, and I can begin to appreciate the hook that continually brings Barry back to le métier, no matter the tribulations that the season will hold. For me, though, this is no professional obligation; it is a recreational activity. As I settle into a comfortable rhythm along a flat stretch of road, trying to hammer out a steady and high cadence, I take pleasure in the incremental improvements in form and fitness that have accompanied every ride this summer and fall. These gains are ridiculously modest, but they contribute to molding an ever-evolving relationship between rider and bicycle. Le Métier is about that conversation between body and machine. There is an artful beauty in this, too often lost in a day at the office.
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View Comments
@frank
You know I'm pretty much a babe in the woods here, but I think we're complaining more about the jerk-off way he's getting his name into the press. The interpretation of the fixed race allegation as just sour grapes is pretty generous, from what I can tell -- it's a subjective reading, not what he says. Again, just going on the excerpt and what you wrote above.
And it doesn't seem to me that he's nobly bringing Tramadol use to light, as this has been done by others with more relevance to today's racing and racers than stories about 2010 designed to grab headlines. But I'm glad if the books good, there are just a lot of others I think I'd rather read, or read again.
@frank
You know we hardly read the articles here, so you expect us to have read a book?
For me, it just came across as blatant double standards.
@andrew
Playing devils advocate, would you prefer the past dopers are not held to account? I agree, it's classless, but wouldn't a bit of blood-letting do the sport some good? Sure it may hurt for a bit, but in a years time when all the drama died down it would be a cleaner place?
That said, doing it with proof, and doing it off some gut feeling are definitely different things, so I guess I can understand if you think it's just smear campaigning without proof, or self promotion. Just wondering..
@andrew come on, it's not a question of him "getting his name in the press". When a book is about to be released, forward copies or excerpts are provided to journo's & the like so that they can quote sections. Journo's are naturally going to pick the sections that will generate the most interest & therefore attract readers.
Having actually read the book cover to cover, I have to second Frank's comments that he explains himself pretty well the whole way through. The comments about Hoste are his interpretation of the fact that Hoste & Boonen attacked from the group with Hincapie in it & Hoste seemed happy to work with Tommeke rather than spoiling to help his team leader bridge back up...
@Mikael Liddy et al
The whole book pretty much just sets the stage for why he started doping, how he justified it, why he lied for so long, and how he felt trapped when he made the decision to stop doping. Excerpts won't do the job because you need the whole book to understand it. And then you have to decide if you give a shit, or if you believe him, or what.
His view on tramadol was based on the doctors willingness to give it to riders, but when he pointed the question back and asked if they'd prescribe it under these conditions to their patiences, they balked. Reading it in context it comes across as believable to me, but that's just an opinion.
But the bottom line is there is a crazy double standard about trusting dopers who confess, believing cheaters who lie, and everything in the middle. For me, I'm just happy to read an intelligent account of one rider's journey.
I'll also point out that there was a lot of backdraft on David Millar when he refused to name riders and referred to them by a pseudonym - Barry named them, so how does someone win in this? Apart from not doping/lying in the first place, that is.
@frank Dammit, I reserve the right to make sweeping statements based on little knowledge and great ignorance, making a show of applying logic and reason to justify subjective opinions and feelings! I call it being a sports fan, and I've learnt from the best.
@Mikael Liddy I take your point, and would only add that authors are very aware of this and need to (or are pressured by publishers to) include salacious details which will then dutifully be picked up by hacks desperate for a headline to sell that day's paper or gain a few more click-throughs. You, like Frank, write that the race-fixing allegation is his interpretation without first-hand knowledge, so to me it still stinks, as he presents it as fact. There might be other explanations -- selfishness, rashness, team politics, personal dislike, and poor tactics seen with the benefit of hindsight being a few possibilities that come to mind.
@Buck Rogers
What the fuck's up with Michael Barry? Maybe trying to drum up some interest/controversy to sell his latest book? I used to like him but really not so much now.
http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/hoste-denies-selling-2006-tour-of-flanders-to-boonen#
So here's an ex-pro who denied everything until he was offered the choice of fessing up or ending up sharing the soap in the communal showers with a few less than savoury characters, and he's now making money out of writing books that accuse his former colleagues of "shady tactics and backroom deals". Wanker.
This is why, no matter how good people claim the books are, I own't read books by retired pros. O'Grady, particularly, can get f***ed in as many breaths as I have left, as can the rest of them who doped and wrote about it. I'm not contributing to their retirements, they can all blow goats as far as I'm concerned.
By the way, if anyone actually deserves to sell a few books based on their careers in that era, perhaps it's David Moncoutié. My French isn't spectacular, but I bought his book straight after seeing the Inrng review direct from the (small) publisher. It came with a hand-written note on a Breton postcard, and no cheap accusations or gratuitous headline-grabbing.
@andrew
Did DM's book come in English or French? I'd love to read it but don't speak French.
WRT Barry, Hamilton, Hincapie, O'Grady, et al....what a mess. So many guys I admired on the bike, in interviews and even in their own written works in Barry's case.....All just a house of cards. I still have a copy of Le Metier, just like I still have a copy of Its not about the Bike. I'll probably wait a long time before I consider reading Barry's new book; its hard not to feel conflicted and cheated.
@andrew
Ohhh MAN, I love the Moncout! Need to find an English translation as my Frnech is just as good as it was in high school when my dear French teacher, Mademoiselle Leymarie used to shake her head and outright laugh in class when I would speak or read a composition of mine.
I did not know that he had written a book.