The remarkable series of published accounts on British mountaineering is still allegiant to the interplay between manliness, competitiveness, character building, and imperialistic drive. A cursory look at their titles suffices alone to rehearse that argument: Mountaineers: Great Tales of Bravery and Conquest (Douglas et al., 2011); ‘Blazing the Way for Others Who Aspire’: Western Mountaineering Clubs and Whiteness, 1890-1955 (LaRocque, 2009); Imperial Ascent: Mountaineering, Masculinity, and Empire (Bayers, 2003); Mapping Adventurous Men: Masculinity in Representations of War, Mountaineering, and Science (Buescher, 2003); Vertical Margins: Mountaineering and the Landscapes of Neoimperialism (Ellis, 2001); Killing Dragons: The Conquest of the Alps (Fleming, 2001); Mountain Men: A History of the Remarkable Climbers and Determined Eccentrics Who First Scaled the World's Most Famous Peaks (Conefrey & Jordan, 2002; see also Taylor, 2006).

This editorial choice, possibly influenced by the publishing market, overshadows the equally relevant mysterious, ecstatic, and obsessive components that coloured the encounter with mountain scenery, aptly evoked in titles such as When the Alps Cast Their Spell: Mountaineers of the Alpine Golden Age (Braham, 2004); Victorians in the Mountains: Sinking the Sublime (Colley, 2010); Mountains of the Mind: A History of a Fascination (Macfarlane, 2003); Mystery, Beauty, and Danger: The Literature of the Mountains and Mountain Climbing Published in English Before 1946 (Bates, 2000).