Rugged Switzerland

Most everyone has seen photographs of the Alps. However, the exposed energy and strength of these mountains and the terrain that surrounds them cannot be captured in a photo. It was not until I saw these peaks that I could truly understand Mary Shelley’s descriptions of her creature and his innate place in this landscape.
After visiting the Jungfrau, Chamonix, and other Swiss cites I can better understand how someone could be inspired to write a novel like Frankenstein. On the days when the rain fell or the fog closed off the world, movements in the distance become menacing. Even on clear days the sight of the desolate rock above the tree line allows for the idea that the only thing that could survive up there would be something supernatural. Humanity does not seem to be enough, our frailties become apparent against such a stark, natural plane.
This setting also inspires the idea that more is possible than any person originally thought. Sitting down around Lake Geneva and looking up at the mountains allows a person to see the beauty of the mountains and be awed by them, but the true Swiss experience comes from walking in the mountains. To walk in the rough terrain, to see the terrifying distance below, as well as the unforgiving heights above is a raw experience when a human can truly feel his/her separation from what is natural. With these views surrounding a person, the idea that strange and shocking things are possible becomes not only acceptable, but knowable.
Having seen the heights and depths of the stark, foreboding landscapes that Mary Shelley described, I can no longer see her words as Romantic techniques. Her creation seems to be an organic part of the landscape, an extension of humanities necessary absence in this region. The Swiss landscape seems to have been created for Mary Shelley’s creature.

Final Post-- Where is the Power?

One does not know what one is until one examines the “other”. Just as something or someone does not have power simply by existing, but is given power through others who create fear. Such are the ideas that Percy Shelly present in his poem “Mont Blanc.” The relationship between nature and the human mind is daunting and drives the literary content of this poem while Shelly works through his observations. The question of whether power exist in the mind or in nature drives Shelly’s poem as it also exist as a response to William Wordsworth and his views on nature.

While Wordsworth, in his poem “Tintem Abbey”, emphasizes the flow of life from nature to the human mind, Shelly does the opposite. Shelly makes an argument for the power that eternally exists already in the mind. Shelly writes, “My own, my human mind, which passively/Now renders and receives fast influencing, / Holding an unremitting interchange/ With the clear universe of things around” (37-40). While Shelly definitely does not deny the power of nature, he supports the idea that our minds give power to things.

Throughout the poem Shelly makes it clear that the power of nature has a hold over him, the power that he gives to nature. In the second part of the poem Shelly begins addressing the Arve River. Shelly describes a majestic yet dark world “Where Power in likeness of the Arve comes down/ From the gulfs that gird his secret through /Bursting through these dark mountains like the flame” (16-18). As seen in the last quoted lines, Shelly takes on a particular technique that persists throughout the poem. By capitalizing the word “power” Shelly emphasizes the word and meaning even more. This technique is seen often in poetry and was especially made famous by Emily Dickinson.

The peak of the poem seems to come with the appearance of Mont Blanc. Shelly paints in words the process of the mind trying to encompass what the eyes see. Mont Blanc seems to include all of what the word “power” means. Shelly describes a powerful nature and mountain with “a mysterious tongue/ Which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild, / So solemn, so serene, that man may be/ But for such faith with nature reconciled” (75-78). Shelly’s description of nature seems to be open and transparent, like it has the ability to be molded to the curves of the individual mind.

Shelly’s views on the human mind seem to have the power to be linked to nature, be killed by nature and triumph over nature. However, it is clear that Shelly thinks man is superior to nature because nature would be nothings without man thinking about it. In the last stanza Shelly reflects on a hidden strength that rules over things. Shelly’s power seemed to end up residing in the art that the mind creates. Where nature and man seem to create ambiguities, for Shelly and others alike art holds a deeper truth.

Final Post: Reflections on Coleridge's "Chamouny; The Hour Before Sunrise. A Hymn"

In Chamouny; The Hour Before Sunrise. A Hymn, Samuel Coleridge calling on God through nature. He asks himself to awake and then the mountains to join him in his calling of God. It is written, "Hand and voice,/ Awake, awake! And though, my heart, awake!/ Awake, ye rocks! Ye forest pines, awake!/ Green fields and icy cliffs, all join my hymn!" (Coleridge lines 23-26). He is calling on nature to worship God as he does. He refers to the mountain itself as his "co-herald" and asks that it "Wake, oh wake, and utter praise!" (line 33). He then asks several questions of who made the mountains and all of their glory, asking about its streams, the icy dens, jagged rocks, and in general, the mountain's very being.
Coleridge spends a great deal of time personifying the mountains. He gives them qualities of joy, fury, and strength (line 43). He asks who made these mountains, and who commanded them to be as they are. For this reason he personifies them, asking who allowed them to have these qualities. He refers to a mighty voice which is slightly confusing, because it is not entirely clear as to whether he thinks the mighty voice is God or nature. It is as if he wants to hear the mighty voice of nature, but he wants to hear it praise God for being created.
In the end of the poem Coleridge makes it fairly obvious that he wants all nature to sing with him in praise to God for creation. The last line of the poem, "Earth with her thousand voices calls on God!" (line 78) shows that he intends to praise God for Earth and nature-- but that he also wants nature to take part in praise for being created.

Refreshed and Restored

Now that I am back home, I must think about how the Romantic authors viewed their own homecomings to places like London and Paris. Leaving the fresh mountain air and breathing again the smog of the city, I feel connected to the idea of the mountains as a cleansing and transformative place. The act of travelling, almost as much as the destination itself, has filtered my thoughts and body, as well as my mind.

The Romantics were all about the travel, the process of removing oneself from "home" and going to a place of otherness. This causes the place of comfort and stability to be held in contrast to new and different surroundings. By seeing the ways the Alps differed from Cincinnati, I can see what the Romantics were getting at by trying to get back to nature.

The re-emerging views of nature as a sentient life force, as seen in Percy Shelley's "Mont Blanc," are part of the Romantics new manifesto. Percy shows the wilderness as having

"...a mysterious tongue
which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild,
so solemn, so serene that man may be
but for such faith with nature reconciled."

Far from saying that modern Switzerland is still a wilderness, we could still see the rawness of the earth, untouched by the hands and machines of man. Coming home and flying over subdivisions and shopping malls, I can see how necessary it was for a removal from all we are familiar with to get the real meaning behind what the Romantics were saying. While I have been to parks and caves, I have never before spent so much time completely surrounded by all that Switzerland offered; forests, mountains, and streams completely true to their geologic birth.

The doubt and faith Shelley talks about is the idea that this planet on which we live lives under us. It is a breathing, moving, changing entity that has as equal a hand in our lives as any deity man has imagined. The Romantics saw in Switzerland a cathedral to nature, and made pilgrimages there to worship and study its power.

The Romantics

Now, what about Romanticism? How has Romanticism influenced our understanding of the Alps and our own view of nature?

The Romantics certainly did change the way modern man would view the Alps. We no longer concentrate on their "horror." We may contemplate their vastness and man's relative smallness by comparison, but we see their beauty and we see them as an adventure! How many hikers with special hiking gear have we seen here! Men and women do not run from the Alps; they run to them. I appreciate the Romantics influence upon our image of the Alps, and the whole paradigm shift. I do believe it would have been more interesting/life-changing to have read their works before our minds were already removed from the image of old myths and residual fear of the mountains. How we would have wondered...and contemplated the meaning of those words (of the Romantic poets). So, it is hard to say how much our lives would have changed if we were to have read their works 150 plus years ago. We might have agreed. We might have disagreed! Nevertheless, we are indebted to them at this time in history and to the writers before them who recognized the beauty in the Alps (the mountain flowers, streams, and pines). Due to the writings of such individuals, I do not fear the mountains, and I was able to approach them without fear (though I do see the potential danger in the glaciers). I am glad to have experienced the new truth of their loveliness and beauty. Aren't you? ;D

Suisse

I wanted to say that the Alps are ever as fresh with me today as they were a year ago! They formed a special presence--they and the fresh, Swiss air. Ah! What unexpected little treasures were to be found there, at least for someone like me. I hope to one day visit Lake Brienz (in Bern) which I saw from the train but never personally experienced! Its waters were so beautiful. I will surely go there!

The Adventure Part Four

Well as our trip comes to a close I am left changed and with many different thoughts and questions to think about. This trip allowed a wonderful balance of learning both hands on and textually. Through seeing what is and has been seen by many great writers and thinkers, I have been inspired to reexamine my own thoughts and ideas. I am very sad to leave, as I love seeing the splendor of the Alps every morning and evening. Though home is a wonderful thing to have, I have found that traveling is a wonderful home and I am very comfortable doing so. Two things have struck me most deeply throughout this trip. The first thing that strikes me is how people are inspired to write great works, be it literature, music, or poetry. In classes I am given advice on how to find inspiration for my writing. "Read other authors great works", "Read the classics", "Listen to great music", "Read wonderful poetry", "Attend poetry readings", etc. All of these are wonderful ideas to find inspiration for writing, however I am curious as to where original inspiration comes from. If I am constantly seeking inspiration through other individuals thoughts and ideas can any of mine truly be original. To be completely honest, I have had the worst writers block of my life for months. I am capable of writing, however, what I do write is just bad writing. I realized one reason is that when I try to write I first seek other writings or songs for inspiration and then my own thoughts are clouded by the thoughts of others. This has all dawned on me through this trip and by looking at the Alps I think of Byron and his inspiration coming from things that don't include words, such as emotion, religion, and nature. THAT is inspiring to me.
The second thing that struck me (and this is no surprise) is the awesomeness of the nature with which I have been surrounded for three weeks. I traditionally try to appreciate nature around me, be it a sunset in Bowling Green Kentucky or a starry night in the countryside of Indiana, I usually try not to take my surroundings for granted especially the sky. But here, it is just so amazing. So beautifully created and mapped out by God alone. Truly a work of art. While spending the day in a hot spring looking up and being surrounded by some of the most majestic mountains known to man... I was in awe of God's work. And so utterly thankful for it.
If God created the Earth so amazingly, imagine how he created us. Our individual selves are so awesome and amazing... our souls are metaphorically like the Alps in greatness. The amount of beauty put into the Alps shows God's work, imagine the work that could be in us.
I guess what I am trying to say is my list of "counting my blessings" has grown quite rapidly in these past three weeks.

I have of course been thinking about several of our discussions on evil and danger in nature and man-- some of those thoughts can be seen in my previous posts. I would like to take my last moments here to appreciate the beauty and good rather than dwell and contemplate the bad of the Alps.

Godspeed to Switzerland, until we meet again!

GOD BLESS!

Saying Goodbye to Switzerland

For the last day the shade seems to have been closing over Switzerland. As we prepared to leave and took care of last minute details, the mountains have been shaded in fog. I realized that contemplating the mountains has been one of the main focuses of our stay here. They have been our companions at every turn and their absence while on the lake was noticeable. The physical presence of the mountains deeply affected the writers who experienced this area and, after seeing them myself, I can understand why. The influence of the mountains is present in every activity, every moment of the day.
The mountains overwhelm your view, but they are never old. In each moment the light in the mountains change. The colors and shadows shift and reform as the day passes. Similarly we could see the changes in our thoughts on the literature while here. As we sat on the stones in the dungeon of Chillon and then on top of the mountain at Derborence the literature was put into a different light. We were no long passive readers, but active participants in the moment. Switzerland deepened the understanding that knowledge is like climbing a mountain. As we conquer a peak and feel that we know something, we are shown another higher peak.

Looking Outside the Body. . . Final Blog

I like to think of our study abroad trip to Switzerland as a reenactment. As we followed the same steps as the Romantic writers and poets, we seemed to be mimicking their same discovery. Since our group has been one of the first, if not the first to study abroad in Switzerland from Western Kentucky University, I see us all as pioneers. Like the romantics we had to see both faces of the Alps. Through our study we saw the Alps as both a healing entity and cruel destiny. C.F. Ramuz painted the mountains in dark words and stressed the cruelness of the mountains and hostility of nature. However, Johanna Spyri emphasized the healing power of the Alps in the classic, Heidi. Writers of the Alps went through individual journeys in discovering the sublime. What is sublime to one is not to someone else. According to the German philosopher Immanuel Kant our mind and how it is raised says what is sublime. This is the same journey we took on ourselves. Discovering ourselves through our relationship with nature and the power to transport ourselves out of the norm. Part of what made up the Romantic writers was the need to search for the sublime and understanding, analyzing, and critiquing the surroundings in order to put together the pieces to larger questions.
Our relationship with the mountains can be haunting and full filling. The experience we have had over the past three weeks was about making connections. One cannot understand themselves until they leave their normal environment. This is the tradition the Romantic writers began. Their writing began the tourism tradition in the Alps and took some fear out of the mountains. Yet the madness continues. We continue to make expeditions to try to understand nature and massive mountains. With the hopes of understanding the other, one feels that they can better understand themselves. This tradition continues like the tradition of writing. We build off of the writers we read; we continue the conversations. We answer questions, and then we state a dozen more. But it is this cycle that makes us crazy and makes us sane. We continue to write and read, study and travel. We are human and must look outside the body.

Fear and loathing in Gryon, Switzerland

I feel so insignificant when compared to these mountains. Sitting and looking out the tiny windows of my impromptu meditative study room, the chalets on the opposite mountain remind me how small I am; remind me of my tiny existence when compared to these vast and jagged hillsides. I've missed so many things being here:, people, ideas, my animals, and 24-hour-service, but I have also gained. I've gained the chill feel to an evening dinner under the mountains with the fellowship of great friends and teachers; I've gained the excited late night scramble of train schedules and study sessions where my fellows students and I scour some specific romantic idea or memory or another; I've gained the soothing sound of water pounding from cliffs, wind in the pines, and meditation to the inhalation of smooth and sweet Alpine air...

Three weeks come and go more quickly than one can prepare for. One can read the material, prepare for the worst, communicate as often as possible and still be surprised. In the presence of such sublimity, such profound and unexplainable beauty, little is left to the imagination. I feel all and every minute of my journeys could not have been planned, could not have been sought for originally. Every endeavor I've encountered here, I've taken on the whim, and I am glad for that. Sure, some excursions have been planned and monitored, but for the most part, all our off-the-cuff plans have been the most rewarding. Having no phone, no parents, nothing but 20 francs, a few dried pieces of bread and chocolate, two pictures of your lover and animals, and a map explaining your limits as far as European public transportation goes is as free as it gets. Coming from an environment of straight-lined, narrow passages, I appreciated the freedom the Alps provided. I appreciated my moments of solitude, my moments of survival, however minute they appeared to others, and I especially enjoyed my other 11 comrades of travel with whom I met and became close.

I came to the Alps expecting great changes, refreshing air, and the best study of my lifetime. Reading specific literature written for this land, inspired by this land, and standing in exact locations of some of the greatest writers to live great to be intimidating. I found myself wondering if I was lacking some sort of creativity supposedly inspired by the very mountains I happened to be staring at, or if I were perhaps in the wrong place at the wrong time. But now I know the Alps are very personal. You're supposed to be a little mixed up and confused in these environments. Those big giants are supposed to intimidate us. Hell, they've been here longer than we can imagine, and they'll outlive us by centuries, most likely. How could they not wield the power? How could they not determine our destinies, our expectations for the future? The people of these lands have suffered because of this very sublime we praise. They have known the turmoil, the aching faith of this harsh land. Yet I still feel uplifted when I look out my skylight and see these pine tree felted hillsides.

The Mountains and all their glorious splendor...

When we arrived here in Gryon, my eyes never looked at my feet. My neck was sore, looking up at a sight that I have never experienced. The air was thinner than what I was used to, the sun was closer to my face, the feeling of insignificance washed over me. I was merely another life form, come to stay on the mountains for a few nights. Nothing like the trees, the sheep, the grass, the snow, the fog, that is supposed to be residing on the mountains. For once, it wasn't natural for me to present in an area. These mountains were their before us, they are here during us, they will be here after us. 

Traveling across Switzerland, seeing the Mountains, the Lakes, the Castles, the Waterfall, I can see why these Romantic writers would be so inspired to lay words down on paper, in such a combination that placed themselves into Literature books. We went to the Prison of Chillon, to Waterfall where a character fell to his death, we climbed to the edge of a demolished village. Seeing the imagination come to life is in itself, an experience that few have had the chance to enjoy.

Many write about how beautiful, how brave, how pensive, the mountains are. However, those are the thoughts of travelers and a few natives. Most of the natives know the history, know the lives under the mountain, know what has happened under their feet. Coming off the hikes, the Swiss look at us as if to say "Why would you do that?", they climb the mountains everyday, not for recreation, they have to, it's their home. After reading Kant, the idea of the sublime, makes a student realize that the mountains are just their, they have no life force, no soul. The Swiss have their own opinion, travelers have theirs.

The mountains are not here for our recreation, they are here as a habitat to creatures that are meant to survive on them. Those where life is not meant to thrive, the mountain lets it be known.  The Mountains are indeed beautiful, indeed strong in stature, indeed frightening, moving, inspiring, fearless. But, those ideas are of just another traveler.

The mountains and all their glorious splendor...

Overall Impact of the Swiss Alps

Where do I start? I can completely see how the Romantics were inspired by the beauty of Switzerland and the Alps. A lifetime wouldn't be long enough to take this all in, let alone three weeks. I have absolutely loved it here: the lifestyle, the people, the food, the nature... everything. The mountains are the most glorious thing I have ever seen. The Alps never cease to take my breath away no matter what time of day I gaze upon them. One of my favorite things about this trip has been that every night when I go to bed and every morning when I wake up, the first thing I see is this stunning landscape.

I could stare at the mountains for hours and it would never get old. Each time I look at them, I continue to be in awe. Though, I still haven't captured the idea of the mountains being evil like we discussed in some of our texts. To me, they're intimidating and humbling, but not vindictive. Maybe if I would have visited or lived here when some of these writers did, I could understand, but the main thing I CAN relate to is how inspirational the mountains are. I have thoroughly enjoyed every second of this study abroad. I don't want to leave, but have to return to real life.

Munich, Germany

This past weekend Adrianna, Morgan & I went to Munich, Germany. We stayed with a German family whose son is a friend of Adrianna's. I thought that Switzerland and Italy were culture shocks... holy cow- Germany was the biggest of them all! The German language is practically impossible to guess and the lifestyle is so unlike America.

Our first night we all went to a festival (kind of like a mini Octoberfest). There were so many people, loud music, and beer. People danced, sang and stood on the tables in a way that was refreshing. I feel like in America, we are all so worried about what other people think and too consumed with stresses of life to cut loose and have fun. The Germans are the definition of fun and entertainment- no matter what time of day.

The next day we shopped... ALOT! Munich is full of inexpensive places and beautiful buildings. We were all amazed by the fact that every time we turned around there was an old, majestic building with all these new, modern shops in it. After walking around and shopping for hours, we went for lunch at an authentic German restaurant called Hofbrauhaus (HB for short). This place was HUGE and full of German culture and tradition. They served the beer steins and had a live band. Beautiful architecture, big tables, and amazing food all accompanied our true German experience. It was delightful.

Sadly, after a couple more hours tooling around, our day came to an end as did our Germany adventure. I really was surprised at how much I enjoyed the culture. I was expecting mean, cruel people (like Hitler) and dirty streets and buildings. I was completely wrong. I really was blown away by how wonderful everything was. I would love to go back one day so that I could spend some more time in this beautiful country.

Up Where the Air is Rarified

Looking back on our three weeks together as a studious bunch of people, I have to make sure to follow the path set down by the Romantics, the seekers of the Alps' knowledge, that came before. They came to this wilderness in the sky looking for deeper meanings to the functions of the world, yearned for more vertical height between them and the plebeian men and women toiling fruitlessly for some other being. The Romantics, Byron, the Shelley's, Wordsworth, and others, wanted to get above the clouds of industry and consumerism, and move to the restorative mountains, in their majestic glory, to wipe their lungs and minds clean.

But the mountains are like all other incarnations of the Divine; they are beautiful and deadly, healing and intimidating, fertile and desolate. The people who spent millenia eking out a living in the crags and narrow valleys thought the Romantics were crazy. Who would want to climb a mountain? For fun, nonetheless. That was one of my first thoughts upon deciding to come here: I will not climb anything unless something above is worth getting or something below is worth escaping. But climb I did, and for no real purpose other than putting one foot in front of the other.
In the course of my study, I have scaled two Alps, crossed rivers, ridden innumerable trains, swum in Lake Geneva and the Adriatic Sea. I have heard the moo's and baa's of cows and sheep, and used earplugs to drown out the racket of their bells. But I feel like the mountains have taught me something each day. Whether it be the fierce strength of independence or a grand love of cheese and chocolate, I feel a connection with the Romantic view of Switzerland. The mountains have power, and the air is clear. With each firm in my mind I am ready to return home with a new view.

Fear from the Feet of the Jungfrau

Peals of thunder tear through the sky,

Snow capped mountains, appear and reappear

Through the clouds of grey and white.

The Jungfrau, majestic, terrifying, arise above the clouds.

Waterfalls, spread across the mountainside, cascade

down, finding their ways into the river that

Can be heard at a constant rhythm. The

Mountain, omnipresent, stays beautiful, terrifying,

Lifeless.

Natives fain away because its fear. The Jungfrau

Overpowers that natural human instinct to expand.

To climb to the top, to achieve that feeling of 

Conquering, is diminished by fear that is invoked 

Into our souls.

We cannot conquer the mountain, it will conquer us,

It will out last us. Isolating itself from the rest of the world,

Closer to the Divine, the natural Babel of the world. 

People are not meant to achieve that level, thus the Mountain,

The Divine, cuts us down, letting us know its power.

......................................................................................................

Deep dark deathlike solitude

These days I find myself wondering if I take everything from the Alps that I must. I find myself literally documenting moments, feelings, realizations in my journal and to others. My good comrade Chad and I have been meditating together; having wholesome discussions on the Alps, what they mean, what they signify to ourselves and those who have come before us. Lately, we've been discussing Percy and Mary Shelley, Lord Byron, and the ideal of some higher power in relation to these beautiful creations brought before our very eyes. We discuss what it means to be alive and young just below Mont Blanc (where  Mary Shelley's creature retreated during times of persecution), and just below the Jungfrau (where Manfred considered diving to his certain death). At the end of my nightly contemplation I find I relate to both the creature and Manfred: I understand the mountains becoming modes of solitude, methods of escape.

How could these mountains not be considered refuge? How could this fresh air not provide necessary means for health, for understanding, for hopefulness? Personally, I came here seeking these same truths. I understand Shelley's creature's plight, I understand his need for seclusion, for aloneness, his need for acceptance. And it's easy to become lost in these caves, these mere rocks with snow.

However, these mountains provide more for me than romance and great, clean air. Just the other night, a few of us fixed dinner together. We popped a few corks, ate amazing soups, and watched the sunset reflect from the Dent du Midi. The sheep's bells were going nut and the rain had just put the most perfect chill to the air. There wasn't much but great conversation, the smell of fresh roses, and the occasional twitter of the BVB's horn signaling another trip up the mountain, another trip down...

The Adventure Part Three

Today we had a wonderful discussion about Byron's Manfred since we are staying the night in view of the very mountains in which much of the dramatic poem took place. The paradoxical idea of living a life for individuality and pursuing truth and understanding inwardly versus accepting and seeking life and fulfillment outside of ones self is a constant theme of the traditional Byronic hero. The constant question seems to be should one find solace simply in ones individuality, or is that even possible? Can happiness and fulfillment be found without contributing to society, by denying it and living in nature? Surely a person cannot thrive in nature alone-- is there purpose to a seemingly purposeless life? But can one positively contribute anything to society without first contributing to his or her self? These were the questions of the evening while staring up at the beautifully intimidating mountains and wondering about the sublime. What is nature and what is it in man? What of the evil of this world that Byron was so clearly aware existed-- does it have an affect on nature at all, or can nature even be given a quality such as evil? Nature is nature and thus has no human characteristics, is evil a human or living characteristic? These questions are seemingly overwhelming, yet hold the focus of Manfred.

Tonight while discussing, I realized something while staring at a waterfall very high up in the Alps. We call these waterfalls and mountains beautiful and powerful, but think about that waterfall that you personify with the term "beautiful". If a person were standing on that cliff about to fall he or she would be scared, or nervous... the water simply falls with no care. Why? Because it is water... it has no human characteristics. Does this mean we cannot see beauty in it? No, certainly there can be beauty with in nature, but I can't help but to think of Kant's thoughts about the sublime. I will end this without getting into a new discussion over Kant's work and ideas. This is all for now, God Bless! Let the adventure continue!