By Peter.
In the 1800s, the Mer de Glace—France’s largest glacier, cascading from the Mont Blanc massif above Chamonix—was a sublime spectacle of frozen waves and azure crevasses. Artists like J.M.W. Turner painted it as a turbulent, glittering ocean; writers like Charles Dickens called it “stupendous.” A haunting 1850s daguerreotype by John Ruskin’s assistant captured its brooding expanse from Montenvers.
But today, that same viewpoint reveals emptiness: a barren valley of moraine and meltwater. The glacier has retreated over 2.5 km (1.6 miles) since the mid-19th century—and is accelerating. Scientists warn it could shrink another 2 km by 2050, even with aggressive emissions cuts.
This isn’t just a story of ice. It’s a visual chronicle of climate change, documented through art, literature, and photography across centuries.
A Timeline of Retreat: Seen Through Human Eyes
| Year | View from Montenvers | Source |
|---|---|---|
| 1802 | A churning “sea” of ice nearly touching the valley floor | J.M.W. Turner painting |
| 1826 | Towering waves of blue-white ice filling the valley | Swiss artist sketch |
| 1850s | Gloomy, boundless frost under dark skies | Ruskin’s daguerreotype |
| 1926 | Still vast, but edges receding | Early photograph |
| 2018 | Ice pulled back, valley exposed | Emma Stibbon cyanotype |
| 2023 | Glacier barely visible; cable car needed to reach it | Author’s visit |
Mary Shelley’s 1816 Visit: The Birth of Frankenstein’s Ice
In the “Year Without a Summer” (1816), 18-year-old Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin—soon to be Shelley—trekked to the Mer de Glace with Percy Shelley and Claire Clairmont. Their perilous mule ride through pine forests and snowfields ended at Montenvers, where they stepped onto the ice.
“The most desolate place in the world… traversed with irregular crevices whose sides of ice appear blue while the surface is dirty white.” – Mary Shelley, diary
Percy called it “a scene of dizzying wonder”, likening the glacier to “waves and whirlpools of a mighty torrent” frozen mid-crash.
Two years later, in Chapter 10 of Frankenstein, Victor confronts his creature on this very ice:
“The sea, or rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains… Their icy and glittering peaks shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart… now swelled with something like joy.”
That joy is gone. The glacier that inspired awe—and a monster—is recoiling out of sight.
Why It Matters: A Glacier That Told Stories
Unlike remote ice fields tracked only by satellites, the Mer de Glace was witnessed, painted, photographed, and written about for centuries. Its retreat is not abstract—it’s personal.
- Artists like Turner and Stibbon used the same vantage to show change.
- Writers like Dickens and the Shelleys made it a symbol of the sublime.
- Tourists once walked its surface; now, a 2024 cable car drops visitors 400 steps down to touch what’s left.
The Future: A Glacier on Borrowed Time
| Scenario | Retreat by 2050 | Fate by 2100 |
|---|---|---|
| Aggressive emissions cuts | ~2 km | Survives, but shrunken |
| Worst-case (unlikely) | Total loss | Gone by 2099 |
Even in the best case, the Mer de Glace will be a shadow of the “sea” that inspired Shelley’s monster.
A Monstrous Absence
Mary Shelley’s creature was born from hubris. Today, the glacier’s retreat is born from ours.
If Shelley returned, she’d find no “vast river of ice” to lift the soul—only a man-made void, a landscape scarred by warming.
The Mer de Glace isn’t just melting. It’s disappearing from memory.
#MerDeGlace #ClimateChange #MaryShelley #AlpsInCrisis
