In antiquity, travelers did not enter the Alps gladly. One Roman noted that "everything in the mountains is frozen solid," while St. Ambrose, after seeing his first glacier, feared that the world would end by being suffocated in ice; heeding them, voyagers took the long way around whenever they could. All that changed in the 1800s, writes Fergus Fleming in this highly entertaining chronicle, when travelers under the spell of Enlightenment philosophers and Romantic poets came to the Alps looking for a hint of heaven on earth. Those who, for many reasons, wanted to get a little closer to the deity attempted the first recreational climbs of the mountains. They were an odd lot, indeed. One was Albert Smith, who burdened his porters with wheels of cheese and casks of wine, made his way up Mont Blanc, had a feast, and turned his adventures into a stage play that wowed London audiences throughout the 1850s. Another was the natural scientist John Tyndall, who regarded the Alps as the devil's work but nonetheless raced against his compatriot Edward Whymper to climb the Matterhorn. Still another was William Coolidge, an American-born Oxford don who made Whymper's already unhappy life just a little less pleasant. Fleming writes winningly of their "conquest" of the mountains--which, of course, has not kept succeeding generations from attempting new routes up the Alps with every climbing season. Mountaineering buffs and armchair travelers alike will enjoy his account. --Gregory McNamee
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