Killing Dragons: The Conquest of the Alps [Paperback]

First, a few words about the style of the book, which was not exactly
what I had expected. It seems to me that Fleming is, first and
foremost, a historian: he obtains his sources, surveys & absorbs them,
and distills them into a work of his own. This is testified to by two
things: the extensive bibliography of books, journals, and letters at
the back of the book, and the frequest references to that bibliography
throughout the text. Indeed, you really get the feeling that
virtually every statement Fleming makes has its source on another
sheet of paper somewhere. That's fine, in fact it's probably better
than an unsubstantiated stream of commentary, but it did take a bit of
getting used to, personally.

Now for the subject matter. In general, the book is concerned with
two things: the "opening up" of the Alps, from before the Napoleonic
era until just prior to the second world war, and the development of
mountaineering as a pastime and concept. More specifically, the book
tells this story by concentrating (though not exclusively) on a small
number of key players and events. Although a lot of ground is
covered, there are three major sections, each concerning a particular
"phase" of mountaineering development.

The first major section concerns the conquest of Mont Blanc, the Alps'
highest peak, and mainly involves the characters Saussure, Pacard,
Bourrit, and Balmat. The second major section concerns the
Matterhorn, and mostly looks at Tyndall and Whymper. The third
section considers the post-Whymper world, looking at Coolidge,
Davidson, the Meije, and the Eigerwand. These are generalisations -
many other characters and mountains are mentioned, but these the
primary subject matter.

To my mind, the most interesting parts of the book were the accounts
of actual climbs, which got much better as the book went on. Early
on, I found it hard to picture Saussure and Pacard struggling up Mont
Blanc - the descriptions didn't quite "come to life". By the time of
Tyndall and Whymper's attacks on the Matterhorn, the mists were
clearing and I could imagine the scenes - and appreciate their scale -
much better. The last chapter, concerning pre-war attacks on the
perilous north face of the Eiger, had me absolutely gripped and was
undoubtedly the most vivid and exciting section of the book. Whether
this development was due to Fleming finding his stride, or me finding
my imagination, I couldn't say, but I suspect the former.

The least interesting aspects (again, to me, others may differ), were
the accounts of arguments and disputes between the various players
concerning who had done what when. Clearly this is important from a
historical point of view, but on the whole I found it tedious. This
was particularly bad in the (long) Mont Blanc section, and a third of
the way through the book I was in danger of giving it up, but I'm now
very glad I persisted, as the book improved greatly.

Between these two extremes, the other major themes of the book -
namely the gradual transformation of the Alpine region from "badlands"
to tourist-trap, and the corresponding transformation of
mountaineering from an indication of insanity, through being an
occupation of gentlemen, to a competetive international sport -
unfolds naturally and enjoyably.

In summary, despite some initial difficultly I found this to be a
fascinating and occasionally gripping account of a remarkable period.
If you have no interest in history or mountaineering, you probably
won't enjoy it. If you have an interest in either (especially
mountaineering), you probably will. If you are a mountaineering
historian, don't miss it!

I don't think it suffers at all by comparison with Jim Ring's book - I bought them both in a double purchase and in fact enjoyed Dragons more, simply because of its more anecdotal and witty narrative style. Ring's account - the rather more cheekily titled How the English Made the Alps (not "British" as described above) - is also well worth a read if you're interested in the subject. And for anyone put off by the Anglo-centric title, the author makes his excuses clear in the preface.

Killing Dragons gets off to a good start with the struggle to ascend Mont Blanc, and the eccentric characters determined to find fame doing so. The contrast here between the calm and worldly Saussure with the vain and faintly ridiculous Bourrits (father and son) is highly entertaining; as is the account of Balmat and Paccard's arduous ascent and fractious relationship. But it's the rivalry later on between Tyndall and Whymper on the Matterhorn that really grabs the attention. Stirring stuff.

Ultimately, I would have liked to see more detail on how the modern climbing/ski industries have changed the Alps - for better or worse - but to be fair this is really another book. I'd recommend this to anyone interested in the mountains or exploration.