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Killing Dragons : The Conquest of the Alps
Full of eccentric characters, Killing Dragons is the story of the first British mountaineers to tackle the Alpine summits of Switzerland during the late eighteenth century. Originally the explorers of this area were poorly equipped, wearing ordinary shoes and no protective clothing. The British arrived intent on reaching every Alpine summit, and 'mountaineering' was born. The title refers to the mythical creatures said to inhabit these 'Here be dragons,' said the old maps ...
400 pages, Paperback
First published October 16, 2000
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March 27, 2018
Un eccellente storia dell’alpinismo occidentale. Si apre con De Saussure, il sogno del Monte Bianco per allargarsi al Golden Age dell’alpinismo, che vede come protagonisti assoluti gli inglesi che colonizzano (in un certo senso) anche Chamonix, Zermatt e Grindelwald da cui partono per le loro imprese. La conquista del Cervino da parte di Whymper (1865) chiude il decennio d’oro (iniziato nel 1854 con l’ascesa di Wills del Wetterhorn): dopo di esso, non ci saranno più grandi cime da conquistare in Europa ma l’alpinismo non si ferma qui. Passano gli anni, cambiano gli scopi di approccio alla montagna, cambiano i protagonisti e gradualmente cambiano anche le stagioni in cui si vive la montagna: agli alpinisti si aggiungono i malati di tisi che devono restare a lungo sui monti, magari anche d’inverno e che hanno bisogno di intrattenimento. Nascono gli sporti invernali: pattinaggio, slittino, curling, racchette – lo sci, all’epoca, occupava solo l’ultimo posto. Alle tre stazioni alpinistiche storiche si aggiunge ora Saint Moritz. Le cime tutte conquistate vanno ora approcciate per vie sempre più difficili, dette “direttissime”. Ecco tornare in auge il Cervino e una volta conquistato ecco che un’altra montagna – un’altra parete, a dire il vero – acquista fama e rispetto: la nord dell’Eiger, conquistata definitivamente nel 1938 da due alpinisti austriaci, Harrer (Sette anni in Tibet) e Vorg.
I draghi che hanno popolato le Alpi nell’immaginario di tutti quelli che le hanno guardate da sempre a questo punto sono stati definitivamente sventati. Bisogna andare a caccia di altre montagne, ancora più alte, ancora più lontane.
I draghi che hanno popolato le Alpi nell’immaginario di tutti quelli che le hanno guardate da sempre a questo punto sono stati definitivamente sventati. Bisogna andare a caccia di altre montagne, ancora più alte, ancora più lontane.
December 31, 2018
ALPINIST - one who climbs the mountains and peaks of the Alps whether as a hobby, as a job, as a sport or just for the heck of it. THE ALPS - Europe’s most majestic mountain range spread out among the territories of France, Switzerland and nearby regions. THE DRAGONS - what were believed to inhabit the tops of these mountains and peaks at the time when people still believed that climbing them was a pointless, dangerous, stupid idea. It is at this time in history, more or less, up to the more recent times that this book covers, sort of a biography of the Alps, where the reader gets to meet all types of mountain-climbing people, young and old, male and female, several of them really comical and steeped with various eccentricities, in short everyone who’ve had any attachment to, or had personal history with, the Alps. It is an interesting read, especially to those who have interest in this type of activity.
I think gone are the days when climbing mountains is done for strictly scientific purposes. It is now mainly as a sport (unless one does it as a guide/porter to mountain climbers in which case it is a JOB to him, not a sport). Anyone who engages in this sport, and even those who scale man-made heights (like buildings), would wonder at one time or another what one’s thoughts would be when falling down from a great height to his death. Of course, most who’ve experienced this have not lived to tell the tale. So will we ever know?
Fortunately, this book also covers that interesting, but most neglected, detail of climbing. In 1892 an Austrian named Albert von St Gallen Heim interviewed a number of people who had survived falls in the Alps. One interviewee was an 8-year-old boy who fell off a cliff. The boy said his only worry was that the penknife his father had given him might slip out of his pocket on his fall. St Gallen Heim added:
“In nearly 95 per cent of the victims there occurred, independent of the degree of their education, thoroughly similar phenomena experienced with only slight differences. In practically all individuals who faced death through accidental falls a similar mental state developed. It represented quite a different state than that experienced in the face of less suddenly occurring mortal dangers. It may be briefly characterised in the following way: no grief was felt, nor was there paralysing fright of the sort that can happen in instances of lesser danger (e.g. outbreak of fire). There was no anxiety, no trace of despair, no pain; but rather calm seriousness, profound acceptance, and a dominant mental quickness and sense of surety. Mental activity became enormous, rising to a hundredfold velocity or intensity. The relationship of events and their probable outcomes were overviewed with objective clarity. No confusion entered at all. Time became greatly expanded. The individual acted with lightning quickness in accord with his accurate judgment of his situation. In many cases there followed a sudden review of the individual’s entire past; and finally, the person falling often heard beautiful music and fell in a superbly blue heaven containing roseate cloudlets. Then consciousness was permanently extinguished, usually at the moment of impact, and the impact was at most heard but never painfully felt. Apparently hearing is the last of the senses to be extinguished.”
I have never experienced falling like that myself, but I’ve rode a long zip-line “Superman style” from a small hill going to another hill in an island across and back and I think it approximated the sensation of a great fall. I tell you I did not hear any beautiful music and all I felt was fright and physical inconvenience and, seeing the rocky ground underneath me during the passage (it was low tide) I was very much conscious of the possibility that the cable I was latched to could snap, cause me to plummet to the ground, where I would die horribly like a fly swatted by a giant, rolled-up newspaper.
Now, let’s enjoy this poem by Stephen Dobyns entitled “Seeing Off a Friend”—
Early April on Broadway, south of Union Square,
a man jumps from a twentieth floor. I
stop him at the tenth. Tell me, I say,
what have you learned in your travels?
We sit and rest awhile. I have only
just asked the question, he says. The answer
will come to me later. He smiles shyly
and continues falling to the fifth floor
where I stop him again. Tell me, I say,
what have you learned in your travels?
He smiles again, being basically cheerful,
but shakes his head. These answers
are slowing approaching, he says,
perhaps it is too soon to tell.
Beneath us
the crowd is clamouring for his arrival.
They shout and clap their hands in unison.
They would sing songs of welcome
if they knew them. They would beat drums.
I shrug and let them continue. He falls,
twisting silently. He nicks a streetlight,
smashing it. He hits the hood of a blue
Chevrolet, smashing it. He bounces thirty feet
and hits a parking meter, smashing it.
He lies there as people run toward him.
Their hands are open like shopping bags.
Their mouths are open like pits in the earth.
All his answers cover their faces.
I think gone are the days when climbing mountains is done for strictly scientific purposes. It is now mainly as a sport (unless one does it as a guide/porter to mountain climbers in which case it is a JOB to him, not a sport). Anyone who engages in this sport, and even those who scale man-made heights (like buildings), would wonder at one time or another what one’s thoughts would be when falling down from a great height to his death. Of course, most who’ve experienced this have not lived to tell the tale. So will we ever know?
Fortunately, this book also covers that interesting, but most neglected, detail of climbing. In 1892 an Austrian named Albert von St Gallen Heim interviewed a number of people who had survived falls in the Alps. One interviewee was an 8-year-old boy who fell off a cliff. The boy said his only worry was that the penknife his father had given him might slip out of his pocket on his fall. St Gallen Heim added:
“In nearly 95 per cent of the victims there occurred, independent of the degree of their education, thoroughly similar phenomena experienced with only slight differences. In practically all individuals who faced death through accidental falls a similar mental state developed. It represented quite a different state than that experienced in the face of less suddenly occurring mortal dangers. It may be briefly characterised in the following way: no grief was felt, nor was there paralysing fright of the sort that can happen in instances of lesser danger (e.g. outbreak of fire). There was no anxiety, no trace of despair, no pain; but rather calm seriousness, profound acceptance, and a dominant mental quickness and sense of surety. Mental activity became enormous, rising to a hundredfold velocity or intensity. The relationship of events and their probable outcomes were overviewed with objective clarity. No confusion entered at all. Time became greatly expanded. The individual acted with lightning quickness in accord with his accurate judgment of his situation. In many cases there followed a sudden review of the individual’s entire past; and finally, the person falling often heard beautiful music and fell in a superbly blue heaven containing roseate cloudlets. Then consciousness was permanently extinguished, usually at the moment of impact, and the impact was at most heard but never painfully felt. Apparently hearing is the last of the senses to be extinguished.”
I have never experienced falling like that myself, but I’ve rode a long zip-line “Superman style” from a small hill going to another hill in an island across and back and I think it approximated the sensation of a great fall. I tell you I did not hear any beautiful music and all I felt was fright and physical inconvenience and, seeing the rocky ground underneath me during the passage (it was low tide) I was very much conscious of the possibility that the cable I was latched to could snap, cause me to plummet to the ground, where I would die horribly like a fly swatted by a giant, rolled-up newspaper.
Now, let’s enjoy this poem by Stephen Dobyns entitled “Seeing Off a Friend”—
Early April on Broadway, south of Union Square,
a man jumps from a twentieth floor. I
stop him at the tenth. Tell me, I say,
what have you learned in your travels?
We sit and rest awhile. I have only
just asked the question, he says. The answer
will come to me later. He smiles shyly
and continues falling to the fifth floor
where I stop him again. Tell me, I say,
what have you learned in your travels?
He smiles again, being basically cheerful,
but shakes his head. These answers
are slowing approaching, he says,
perhaps it is too soon to tell.
Beneath us
the crowd is clamouring for his arrival.
They shout and clap their hands in unison.
They would sing songs of welcome
if they knew them. They would beat drums.
I shrug and let them continue. He falls,
twisting silently. He nicks a streetlight,
smashing it. He hits the hood of a blue
Chevrolet, smashing it. He bounces thirty feet
and hits a parking meter, smashing it.
He lies there as people run toward him.
Their hands are open like shopping bags.
Their mouths are open like pits in the earth.
All his answers cover their faces.
May 18, 2020
My children's novel about the doomed 1845 John Franklin expedition was released a few weeks back and a reader suggested that I might enjoy Fergus Fleming's account. When I googled his books, I ended up ordering three, including this one. I read it in three sittings and I've no interest in mountaineering as I've absolutely no head for heights. Fleming writes with warmth and humour and I laughed out loud more than once. This Who's Who of the first mountaineers to attempt/climb the Alps, reads like a novel because as meticulous a researcher Fleming is, he is an even better storyteller. My one criticism is that I wished his attention had been balanced more evenly between the two genders. I had never heard of the women he mentioned and know nothing more about them.
February 22, 2024
A little long winded and older language but overall good
July 10, 2007
I had been looking forward to this book, almost without knowing why. I had heard a bit of it on the radio when they serialised it and remembered hearing good reports about it on the review programmes when it first came out.
I was not disappointed. In it we have, exquisitely laid out for us, the bizarre, the heroic, the insanely stupid, the brave, the macabre and the humorous, and all in equal measure.
Yes, it's historical non-fiction, but it's a gripping read nonetheless. Fleming does not write as if he was writing a novel, but rather describes the characters using their own words from published accounts of climbs or diaries, as well as others' opinions/writings on them. Each main player is so vividly captured so you have a good sense of the man and his time – so much so that you really forget you are reading non-fiction in a way and get caught up in the exhilaration and excitement. This is the first book that has ever made me gasp (yes, literally gasp out loud) when the rope snapped on the descent of the first conquering of the Matterhorn and four of the party instantly fell 4,000 feet to their deaths.
There is a lot of humour in the book in particular from the author with his acerbic and witty observations as well as particular quotes he chooses. Let alone the amusing quotes and anecdotes littered throughout, from the hilarious to the bizarre.
However, the main content is the conquering of the Alps: those men who first climbed each pass or peak. Many were clearly skilled writers in their own right, since it is often their own words that are used to describe death defying moments, such as the first climb of the Wetterhorn. At first they thought they were defeated – an ice overhang prevented them going further – till they cut through it to climb on up, only to realise they were actually at the peak. And a true peak at that – they had a ridge a mere four inches wide to stand on. On one side the precipitous slope they had climbed up and on the other: "…it was impossible to turn the eye from the fearful slope at the top of which we stood. For twenty or thirty yards beneath us, the glacier curved away steeper and steeper, until its rounded form limited our view… Nothing else broke the terrific void, and the next objects on which the eye rested were… nearly two miles of absolute depth below us." [Wills]
The macabre reality of mountaineering shows itself in tales of men who fell to their deaths only to be ripped apart by the rocks on the way down so no body was ever found, or else die in an avalanche only come out in pieces from a melting glacier years later. Others, despite such dangers, leap up mountains in what would otherwise be sheer folly and accomplish that which everyone else insisted was impossible. They endure cold, hardship, insanely harrowing conditions, and for what: to be the first to do it, and that is all. At first it was all in the name of science, but quickly it became something to do for the thrill, the challenge and nothing more.
As one mountaineer put it: "These stones and ice have no mercy in them, no sympathy with human adventure; they submit passively to what man can do; but let him go a step too far, let heart or hand fail, mist gather or sun go down, an they will exact the penalty to the uttermost. The feeling of the 'sublime' in such cases depends very much, I think, on a certain balance between the forces of nature and man's ability to cope with the: if they are too strong him, what was sublime becomes only terrible." [Hawkins]
There are some books you read and you really wish were longer or would never end, and this is one of them. Something I never thought I would ever say about a non-fiction book, let alone one about people wandering up and down mountains, but this book is a marvel: gripping, enthralling, informative, amusing, terrifying and fascinating.
Mountaineering from your armchair: I loved it!
I was not disappointed. In it we have, exquisitely laid out for us, the bizarre, the heroic, the insanely stupid, the brave, the macabre and the humorous, and all in equal measure.
Yes, it's historical non-fiction, but it's a gripping read nonetheless. Fleming does not write as if he was writing a novel, but rather describes the characters using their own words from published accounts of climbs or diaries, as well as others' opinions/writings on them. Each main player is so vividly captured so you have a good sense of the man and his time – so much so that you really forget you are reading non-fiction in a way and get caught up in the exhilaration and excitement. This is the first book that has ever made me gasp (yes, literally gasp out loud) when the rope snapped on the descent of the first conquering of the Matterhorn and four of the party instantly fell 4,000 feet to their deaths.
There is a lot of humour in the book in particular from the author with his acerbic and witty observations as well as particular quotes he chooses. Let alone the amusing quotes and anecdotes littered throughout, from the hilarious to the bizarre.
However, the main content is the conquering of the Alps: those men who first climbed each pass or peak. Many were clearly skilled writers in their own right, since it is often their own words that are used to describe death defying moments, such as the first climb of the Wetterhorn. At first they thought they were defeated – an ice overhang prevented them going further – till they cut through it to climb on up, only to realise they were actually at the peak. And a true peak at that – they had a ridge a mere four inches wide to stand on. On one side the precipitous slope they had climbed up and on the other: "…it was impossible to turn the eye from the fearful slope at the top of which we stood. For twenty or thirty yards beneath us, the glacier curved away steeper and steeper, until its rounded form limited our view… Nothing else broke the terrific void, and the next objects on which the eye rested were… nearly two miles of absolute depth below us." [Wills]
The macabre reality of mountaineering shows itself in tales of men who fell to their deaths only to be ripped apart by the rocks on the way down so no body was ever found, or else die in an avalanche only come out in pieces from a melting glacier years later. Others, despite such dangers, leap up mountains in what would otherwise be sheer folly and accomplish that which everyone else insisted was impossible. They endure cold, hardship, insanely harrowing conditions, and for what: to be the first to do it, and that is all. At first it was all in the name of science, but quickly it became something to do for the thrill, the challenge and nothing more.
As one mountaineer put it: "These stones and ice have no mercy in them, no sympathy with human adventure; they submit passively to what man can do; but let him go a step too far, let heart or hand fail, mist gather or sun go down, an they will exact the penalty to the uttermost. The feeling of the 'sublime' in such cases depends very much, I think, on a certain balance between the forces of nature and man's ability to cope with the: if they are too strong him, what was sublime becomes only terrible." [Hawkins]
There are some books you read and you really wish were longer or would never end, and this is one of them. Something I never thought I would ever say about a non-fiction book, let alone one about people wandering up and down mountains, but this book is a marvel: gripping, enthralling, informative, amusing, terrifying and fascinating.
Mountaineering from your armchair: I loved it!
February 1, 2011
"Killing Dragons" is an engrossing series of portraits of men and mountains woven into a chronology of alpine exploration that spans 150 years. The bulk of the narrative focuses on two big, suggestive mountains - Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn - and their two principal suitors: de Saussure and Whymper. But there are delightful side roles for a whole throng of colourful characters such as Bourrit, Forbes, Tyndall, Ruskin, Stephen and Coolidge. Ultimately it's also a story about how surprisingly quickly and drastically man's relationship to nature can change: in barely two centuries the general mood regarding the mountain world switched from superstitious awe to scientific interest to exploratory zeal to nationalist competition to, ultimately, solipsistic thrill-seeking (which is still the dominant ethos today).
Fergus Fleming is a masterful storyteller with a penchant for tongue-in-cheeck humour, quirky details and the burlesque. In one or two cases it's even over the top, as when he inserts a footnote with a deadpan comment of Edward Whymper on the ubiquity of "crétins" (deformed, mentally handicapped people) and goitre sufferers in rural Alpine communities: "Let them be formed into regiments by themselves, brigaded together, and commanded by cretins. Think what esprit de corps they would have! Who could stand against them? Who would understand their tactics?" An example of a more successful gag comes when Fleming comments on the death of Coolidge who, after the demise of his beloved aunt Meta Brevoort, withdrew and became and quarrelsome, exasperatingly punctilious Alpine historian. Fleming: "An imp of perversity was loose in Grindelwald that season - either that or the Swiss possessed a keener sense of humour than they were normally credited with - for the great pedant was given an exquisitely apt send-off. The 'Echo of Grindelwald" misspelled his name in its official notice, the authorities put the wrong age on his headstone and the carver missed out the the 'u' in 'mountains'." The book is full of these kinds of hilarious observations. (Incidentally, Fleming himself may have something of Coolidge's pedantry as he is remarkably scrupulous about spelling of French and Germain toponyms throughout the book).
On the whole, Fleming does an admirable job in weaving the locales, the societal trends, the climbing epics, the individual characters and their relationships and rivalries into a rich tapestry. My only complaint is that this book refers only in passing to and omits a more extensive discussion on Albert Mummery, an important and colourful character who heralded a new era in mountaineering. His remarkable ascents on the great Alpine peaks (Zmutt ridge on the Matterhorn, amongst many others) and his fantastic daring to be the very first to attack a Himalayan 8.000 meter peak (already in 1895!) would have been a more fitting and logical conclusion to this very British epic than the unsavoury story of the German siege on the north face of the Eiger.
Fergus Fleming is a masterful storyteller with a penchant for tongue-in-cheeck humour, quirky details and the burlesque. In one or two cases it's even over the top, as when he inserts a footnote with a deadpan comment of Edward Whymper on the ubiquity of "crétins" (deformed, mentally handicapped people) and goitre sufferers in rural Alpine communities: "Let them be formed into regiments by themselves, brigaded together, and commanded by cretins. Think what esprit de corps they would have! Who could stand against them? Who would understand their tactics?" An example of a more successful gag comes when Fleming comments on the death of Coolidge who, after the demise of his beloved aunt Meta Brevoort, withdrew and became and quarrelsome, exasperatingly punctilious Alpine historian. Fleming: "An imp of perversity was loose in Grindelwald that season - either that or the Swiss possessed a keener sense of humour than they were normally credited with - for the great pedant was given an exquisitely apt send-off. The 'Echo of Grindelwald" misspelled his name in its official notice, the authorities put the wrong age on his headstone and the carver missed out the the 'u' in 'mountains'." The book is full of these kinds of hilarious observations. (Incidentally, Fleming himself may have something of Coolidge's pedantry as he is remarkably scrupulous about spelling of French and Germain toponyms throughout the book).
On the whole, Fleming does an admirable job in weaving the locales, the societal trends, the climbing epics, the individual characters and their relationships and rivalries into a rich tapestry. My only complaint is that this book refers only in passing to and omits a more extensive discussion on Albert Mummery, an important and colourful character who heralded a new era in mountaineering. His remarkable ascents on the great Alpine peaks (Zmutt ridge on the Matterhorn, amongst many others) and his fantastic daring to be the very first to attack a Himalayan 8.000 meter peak (already in 1895!) would have been a more fitting and logical conclusion to this very British epic than the unsavoury story of the German siege on the north face of the Eiger.
July 24, 2011
What a surprise this book was - did not expect much of it but the further the reading went, the more gripping it became with the final ascent of the North Face of the Eigerwand being made of the stuff you write Hollywood movies with.
Excellent read, even if you had no particular interest in mountaineering.
Excellent read, even if you had no particular interest in mountaineering.
March 27, 2023
When I was in high school many years ago, we lived for a couple of years in Neuchatel, Switzerland, in a 13-story building. On a very (very) clear day, we could see Mont Blanc far in the distance. Even at that distance, it was a majestic site. I like looking at mountains, but the idea of climbing would never enter my mind. The thousands who have now climbed Everest, with the help of guides to carry their bags and technology, have trivialized what once was an extraordinary accomplishment.
So it was for the Alps in the 18th and 19th centuries. They were considered unclimbable, harsh, and forbidding monuments to death and destruction. Avalanches regularly killed many, and the physics of glaciers were not understood. Fleming has written a detailed examination of how and why that all changed.
It was a combination of thirst for scientific knowledge about the Alps coupled with myth that was layered with romantic views of Byron and others. Killing the Dragons refers to the legends that the Alps were populated by Dragons. Crossing the Alps was a very hazardous undertaking because of swift changes in the weather, glacial crevasses, and falling rocks. (One avalanche sent boulders into a lake creating a tsunami of epic proportions inundating a town.
After Mt. Blanc was climbed successfully, the story continued, moving from dragons to a virtual advertising campaign. Much lie Everest today, climbing Mt. Blanc became the thing to do. The Alps were transformed into a thing of beauty and respite, attracting hoards of visitors, rather than something to be feared.
Before you know it, the Alps and Switzerland benefited from another kind of myth, that of the health giving clean air and wonderful resorts. Towns and villages that had been considered mere provinces of swine, were now sought after resorts and the Swiss, clever people they are, soon had a train (!) running up though the Eiger close to its summit for people like me who would rather ride than climb.*
It’s a fun read (I listened to the well-read audio version)
*The train continues up inside the Eiger and Mönch mountains, with another 5 minute stop at the Eismeer (Ice Sea) viewing point until it reaches Jungfraujoch, 3,454m or 11,333 feet above sea level, the highest railway station in Europe and billed as The Top of Euro
So it was for the Alps in the 18th and 19th centuries. They were considered unclimbable, harsh, and forbidding monuments to death and destruction. Avalanches regularly killed many, and the physics of glaciers were not understood. Fleming has written a detailed examination of how and why that all changed.
It was a combination of thirst for scientific knowledge about the Alps coupled with myth that was layered with romantic views of Byron and others. Killing the Dragons refers to the legends that the Alps were populated by Dragons. Crossing the Alps was a very hazardous undertaking because of swift changes in the weather, glacial crevasses, and falling rocks. (One avalanche sent boulders into a lake creating a tsunami of epic proportions inundating a town.
After Mt. Blanc was climbed successfully, the story continued, moving from dragons to a virtual advertising campaign. Much lie Everest today, climbing Mt. Blanc became the thing to do. The Alps were transformed into a thing of beauty and respite, attracting hoards of visitors, rather than something to be feared.
Before you know it, the Alps and Switzerland benefited from another kind of myth, that of the health giving clean air and wonderful resorts. Towns and villages that had been considered mere provinces of swine, were now sought after resorts and the Swiss, clever people they are, soon had a train (!) running up though the Eiger close to its summit for people like me who would rather ride than climb.*
It’s a fun read (I listened to the well-read audio version)
*The train continues up inside the Eiger and Mönch mountains, with another 5 minute stop at the Eismeer (Ice Sea) viewing point until it reaches Jungfraujoch, 3,454m or 11,333 feet above sea level, the highest railway station in Europe and billed as The Top of Euro
March 15, 2023
I picked this book up because someone told me that it was the most hilarious climbing book they'd ever read. That piqued my interest enough to download a free sample onto my Kindle and, although at no point did I find much humour in the book, by the time I'd finished the sample I was genuinely hooked, and bought the book.
It's hard to say why I became hooked because, although I've read some outstanding climbing literature, this wasn't a book of gripping derring-do but rather of the history of the development of climbing in the Alps, a subject in which I had (and actually still have) almost no interest whatsoever ('almost' because I've been to the museums in Chamonix and Zermatt and thoroughly enjoyed both). The fact that the book kept me gripped for over 400 pages is simply down to the quality of the writing. At no point was I bored and at no point was I reading just to get to the end. The author managed to keep a mildly-interesting subject genuinely interesting for over 400 pages through nothing more than the quality of his writing.
As for the humour, it was rather few and far between, though there was the odd darkly-humorous passage like the following: "On 15 July two Austrians, Franz Primas and Albert Gollacher, braved the Eiger in a display of monstrous incompetence. Gollacher, merely 18, was quite inexperienced, forgot to take any food with him and after five days on the mountain went mad and tried to throw Primas over the edge before freezing to death. Primas, who had neglected to bring a tent, was rescued from a snow cave on 20 July, suffering from severe frostbite."
Whilst I really liked the book, and nothwithstanding the quality of the writing, I can't really imagine recommending it to anyone, as it's simply too far off the beaten track of where most people's interests lie and, given its length, it involves an investment of time and effort which is hard to justify unless one already has an interest in the subject matter. I liked it but can't think of many other people who might.
It's hard to say why I became hooked because, although I've read some outstanding climbing literature, this wasn't a book of gripping derring-do but rather of the history of the development of climbing in the Alps, a subject in which I had (and actually still have) almost no interest whatsoever ('almost' because I've been to the museums in Chamonix and Zermatt and thoroughly enjoyed both). The fact that the book kept me gripped for over 400 pages is simply down to the quality of the writing. At no point was I bored and at no point was I reading just to get to the end. The author managed to keep a mildly-interesting subject genuinely interesting for over 400 pages through nothing more than the quality of his writing.
As for the humour, it was rather few and far between, though there was the odd darkly-humorous passage like the following: "On 15 July two Austrians, Franz Primas and Albert Gollacher, braved the Eiger in a display of monstrous incompetence. Gollacher, merely 18, was quite inexperienced, forgot to take any food with him and after five days on the mountain went mad and tried to throw Primas over the edge before freezing to death. Primas, who had neglected to bring a tent, was rescued from a snow cave on 20 July, suffering from severe frostbite."
Whilst I really liked the book, and nothwithstanding the quality of the writing, I can't really imagine recommending it to anyone, as it's simply too far off the beaten track of where most people's interests lie and, given its length, it involves an investment of time and effort which is hard to justify unless one already has an interest in the subject matter. I liked it but can't think of many other people who might.
February 26, 2020
Killing Dragons is the story of how men (they were almost always men, with a few notable exceptions) fell in love with the Alps. Before the Enlightenment they were places to be avoided if at all possible, the haunt of dragons and a trap for the unwary, and certainly not somewhere to spend one’s leisure time. But from the late eighteenth century they developed an appeal and attraction of their own, and from early ‘scientific’ climbs grew a passion for reaching the tops of Europe’s greatest mountains; Mont Blanc, the Matterhorn, the Eiger among them, and the creation of a new sport, mountaineering. Foremost in this tale of heroism, foolhardiness and eccentricity was the Alpine Club, a typically nineteenth century British organisation for men of a certain class whose members and aspiring members set out to scale the Alpine peaks with a passion but not necessarily the right (or any) equipment. Fergus Fleming tells this well-researched, fascinating and often hair-raising tale with pace and an ear for character and anecdote that ensure that it is engaging and entertaining throughout.
July 2, 2019
This book is a history of climbing in the Alps in the Golden Years. The book starts with a resolution made by the early naturalist Conrad Gesner in 1541 - "I am resolved that as long as God grants me life, I will each year climb some mountains, or at least one, at the season when the flowers are in bloom, in order that I may examine these, and provide noble exercise for my body at the same time as enjoyment for my soul." At that time, the peaks were largely unnamed and few persons had ever made an ascent, although one was Leonardo da Vinci in the fifteenth century.
In 1702 Johann Scheuchzer, Professor of Physics at Zurich University, took nine journeys into the mountains and documented the flora, fauna and geology - including a comprehensive list of the dragons existing in the heights.
Alpine tourism started in 1741 when two Britons, Pococke and Windham, visited Chamonix for the sake of climbing.
The author provides a history of the early climbers and explorers, from the first attempts by Horace Benedict de Saussure and Marc-Theodore Bourrit to climb Mont Blanc, through Louis Agassiz and John Tyndall to Edward Wymper. Climbs ranged from the initial ascents of Mont Blanc through the Matterhorn to the Eiger. Much interesting detail is provided including the logistics of mountaineering over the years, and the role of the guides in the climbs.
In 1702 Johann Scheuchzer, Professor of Physics at Zurich University, took nine journeys into the mountains and documented the flora, fauna and geology - including a comprehensive list of the dragons existing in the heights.
Alpine tourism started in 1741 when two Britons, Pococke and Windham, visited Chamonix for the sake of climbing.
The author provides a history of the early climbers and explorers, from the first attempts by Horace Benedict de Saussure and Marc-Theodore Bourrit to climb Mont Blanc, through Louis Agassiz and John Tyndall to Edward Wymper. Climbs ranged from the initial ascents of Mont Blanc through the Matterhorn to the Eiger. Much interesting detail is provided including the logistics of mountaineering over the years, and the role of the guides in the climbs.
February 5, 2021
This book was fine? It was fairly dry, and I think the main thing I learned was that early mountaineers were an incredibly catty bunch with fragile egos, which sounds like it should be exciting but it isn't really exciting unless it gets to the point of absurdity showcased in your average r/hobbydrama post. There was excitement to be had in harrowing descriptions of horrible failed expeditions, but these were largely pretty dry until about halfway through the book.
August 9, 2021
It's mostly about the mad Victorian gentlemen who first climbed the Alps (most notably Edward Whymper, who almost gave his life to be the first on top of the Matterhorn), but also the Nazi inspired (sponsored? maybe, but not certain) fight for the north face of the Eiger (a.k.a der Mordwand).
Fleming writes with a certain flair, and even when the topic is a long list of lectures given by the early explorers, the prose is lively and interesting.
Fleming writes with a certain flair, and even when the topic is a long list of lectures given by the early explorers, the prose is lively and interesting.
September 16, 2025
Entertaining and thorough history of the exploration of the Alps. The best parts are the amazing real-life characters brought to life. At times the level of detail can become a bit tedious, and it was hard to keep track of all the names, but overall a great read. I read while traveling in the Alps and it inspired me to travel there again.
August 13, 2025
Started well with brief history up to 18th century then detailed account on Mount Blanc, before becoming a bit repetitive with how various people went and wrote about alps, but definitely picked up again on the golden age and the period following it. Overall enjoyable and interesting read.
October 27, 2017
Informative and interesting but not gripping. But I definitely learnt a lot!
June 6, 2018
Great stories of how mankind has "conquered" the Alps. It sometimes got a bit tedious but was mostly really interesting.
November 15, 2022
Pretty much ruins the love of nature and romance of the alps - portrays historic climbers as a bunch of egotistical selfish in-fighting sexist bullies.
June 17, 2024
Hilarious and informative and yet a difficult read for what reason I don't know. I was mainly interested in the early history so stopped halfway through
August 20, 2025
Great history of mountaineering in the Alps but a bit too focused on British conquests as opposed to the native Swiss guides
October 5, 2025
would be 4 stars but john sholto douglas haunts the narrative and I can’t abide this
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December 27, 2025Quotes I liked
'The high summits,' wrote Guillaume-Antoine De Luc after one expedition, 'could be descried, all white with fresh snow, through the gaps between the clouds; they appeared as many giants of an enormous size, as old as the world, who were at their windows looking down upon us poor little creeping creatures.
Saussure tried to elaborate what he described as a 'Theory of the Earth' but constrained by ill health and his religious beliefs he managed no more than an outline. (It was a sketchy affair that laid down the precepts of geological investigation but dared not break with the Bible.) He spent his last years preparing the final volumes of Voyages for press. He died in 1798, two years after they came out and the same year in which France annexed Geneva. The final editing was left to his son Théodore who preserved Saussure's most memorable utterance in its entirety: 'Placed on this planet since yesterday, and only for a day, we can only hope to glimpse the knowledge that we will probably never attain. '22
'The high summits,' wrote Guillaume-Antoine De Luc after one expedition, 'could be descried, all white with fresh snow, through the gaps between the clouds; they appeared as many giants of an enormous size, as old as the world, who were at their windows looking down upon us poor little creeping creatures.
Saussure tried to elaborate what he described as a 'Theory of the Earth' but constrained by ill health and his religious beliefs he managed no more than an outline. (It was a sketchy affair that laid down the precepts of geological investigation but dared not break with the Bible.) He spent his last years preparing the final volumes of Voyages for press. He died in 1798, two years after they came out and the same year in which France annexed Geneva. The final editing was left to his son Théodore who preserved Saussure's most memorable utterance in its entirety: 'Placed on this planet since yesterday, and only for a day, we can only hope to glimpse the knowledge that we will probably never attain. '22
February 11, 2017
This is what is technically called a right rollicking read. History treated as a story focusing on the eccentricity and obsession that drove the early alpine explorers. A light, non-fiction read that amuses as well as informs.
March 20, 2010
This is an exhaustive look at the exploration and conquest of the Alps. As much as I like history, geology and exploration, I found the detail excruciating and bailed at page 176. I like knowing who the first Alpinists were. I mostly don't care to read chunks of their letters, newspaper accounts of their travelogues, etc. I did learn some things about cretinism and goiters, both, from reading this.
April 13, 2008
The history of the alps and how, by who, why etc. they were conquered. It is a fairy interesting and informative read. However, it does fall a little flat in the end since it seems to repeat itself. Maybe thats just the history of the alps but I somehow think that it could be written about a bit better. Still recommended if you're interesting in the history of the alps and mountains in general.
January 28, 2012
I found this book fascinating and surprisingly very funny at times. I loved reading about the exciting and often ludicrous mountaineering stories of posh victorians. But I didn't expect to laugh so much thanks to the highfalutin writing style of these high-brow scientists and recluses as they insult and belittle each other in a ridiculous victorian way.
June 7, 2007
An excellent in-depth review of the exploration of the alps from the middle ages through modern times through scentific, geographical, sociological, and mountainerring exploits.
January 2, 2008
This book is about some of the many people who tried, failed and succeeded to climb the Alps. I gave the book 3 stars because it is interesting and amusing but sometimes lacking.
March 3, 2009
Easy to read non-fiction about the early mostly-British men to climb various mountains in the Alps, in particular Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn.
January 3, 2015
Excellent history of Alpinism.
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