Review of El Pirineo sin Briet
by Ánchel Belmonte Ribas and Lise Laporte
In 2017, I walked for nearly forty days along the GR-11, the famed Transpirenaica footpath, tracing the Pyrenees on the Spanish side, end-to-end, from Irun to Cap de Creus. Alongside Sonia Ibáñez Pérez, I traversed the Basque Country, Navarre, Aragón, Andorra and Catalonia with the goal of reciprocating the longer five-month walk we completed along my own birthplace mountains–the Appalachians–back in 2013*. We were walking her mountains. Walks were–and still are–our mode of inquiry, our way of knowing a place–albeit by making mere transect lines through both the complex human and natural landscapes and layers.
The Transpirenaica walk left me wanting more of the Pyrenees—not just for the physical challenge but for the way it deepened my connection to its landscape and stories. Seven years later, now living in Sobrarbe in Alto Aragón, in the shadow of the Pyrenees and learning Aragonés, I’ve embarked on a new expedition—a deeper dive into the region’s human geographies and how they intersect with its wild beauty.
Reading El Pirineo sin Briet, by geologist Ánchel Belmonte Ribas and cultural expert Lise Laporte, feels like an extension of that journey—a next step in a way of seeing the Pyrenees not just as a place of physical challenge but as a shared cultural and natural treasure. This is a book that transcends time and disciplines. At its heart, it is a celebration of Lucien Briet, the early 20th-century photographer, writer, and explorer whose images and advocacy shaped how the Pyrenees are imagined, experienced, and, most crucially, conserved.
This book is an homage to Briet’s enduring vision, but it is also much more: it is a story of change, both in the landscape and in how we perceive it. It bridges art and science, memory and modernity, and asks us to consider what the Pyrenees mean in an age of unprecedented environmental transformation.
Lucien Briet: A Visionary and Advocate
For those, like me, who are relative newcomers to the Pyrenees, Lucien Briet (1860-1921) is both an anchor and a touchstone—a figure whose vision helps us understand the enduring allure of these mountains. Born in Paris, Briet was not merely a traveler but a pireneísta, a passionate student and lover of the Pyrenees. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, he ventured deep into the region, capturing its grandeur through thousands of photographs and detailed writings that revealed its cultural and ecological essence.
Briet’s photography opened the Pyrenees to audiences far beyond its summits and valleys, bringing alive a wilderness that might otherwise have remained invisible to ever-growing urban audiences. His artistry framed the mountains as places of significance—spaces deserving not only admiration but protection. Yet Briet’s impact went far beyond the photographic. His 1913 book, Bellezas del Alto Aragón, chronicled explorations through Ordesa valley, along the Ara river, and into the Mascún canyon and Escoaín gorges, alongside iconic sites like the Peña Montañesa, the Marboré massif, and the Sierra de Guara.
Most notable, Briet was one of the earliest advocates for conservation, recognizing the risks posed by industrial expansion and unchecked tourism. His tireless efforts helped pave the way for the creation of Ordesa y Monte Perdido National Park in 1918—one of Spain’s first protected areas and a living monument to his legacy.
In El Pirineo sin Briet, Belmonte and Laporte center Briet’s work as both a cultural bridge and a moral imperative. They revisit the exact places Briet once photographed, offering not just comparisons but invitations to reflect on what has changed and what remains. By curating Briet’s vision alongside their own contemporary explorations, the authors remind us that landscapes—like heritage—are never static but require our active participation to preserve.
The Changing Landscape of the Pyrenees
At the heart of El Pirineo sin Briet lies an exploration of the sweeping transformations that have shaped the Pyrenees over the past century. Drawing on Ánchel Belmonte’s geological precision and Lise Laporte’s cultural insights, the authors provide a multidimensional portrait of a landscape in flux. Each carefully curated chapter uncovers new layers of adaptation, resilience, and interconnected change.
The Pyrenees: A Stage of Change
The Pyrenees are presented as a dynamic stage where natural forces and human activities intertwine, shaping valleys, peaks, and rivers into evolving narratives. By tracing this interplay, the authors emphasize the mountains’ role as both a witness to and participant in centuries of change.
A Brief Recent Climatic History of the Pyrenees
Climate shifts over the last century have left their mark on the Pyrenees, from subtle changes in temperature to more pronounced shifts in precipitation patterns. These variations ripple through ecosystems, reshaping glaciers, altering vegetation, and redefining rivers.
The Landscape That [Almost] Doesn’t Change
Some elements of the Pyrenees appear impervious to time—ancient rock formations and ecosystems that have withstood millennia. The juxtaposition of these constants with areas undergoing rapid transformation invites reflection: how long can these enduring features remain untouched in a world of accelerating change?
Summits and Slopes: Spaces of Transition
High-altitude zones of the Pyrenees, where life exists on the edge, emerge as fragile yet revealing spaces. Changes in vegetation creeping higher and signs of erosion accelerating point to the impacts of climate shifts even in these extreme environments. Photographs of San Nicolás de Bujaruelo capture this convergence of natural and cultural landscapes. The medieval bridge over the Río Ara stands as a timeless testament to human connection with the mountains, inviting a deeper contemplation of the relationship between preservation and transformation. The Transpirenaica crosses the bridge.
Rivers: The Great Connectors
Rivers thread through the Pyrenean landscape, linking ecosystems, histories, and communities. Yet, human interventions—damming, sediment transport disruptions, and water management—have altered their flow and meaning. These waterways, once symbols of continuity, now also reflect the layered consequences of human impact.
Glaciers: The Great Change
The retreat of glaciers is portrayed through a powerful pairing of Briet’s stark historical photographs with vivid contemporary images. The resulting contrasts reveal not just loss but the interconnected nature of this transformation, impacting rivers, ecosystems, and cultural identity. Rather than reducing glaciers to symbols of despair, the authors use them to provoke reflection on resilience and responsibility. Their comparative methodology offers visual evidence of environmental change, transcending the oversimplified narratives often found in media discussions **.
A Visual and Multidisciplinary Dialogue
The pairing of Lucien Briet’s historical photographs with modern images taken from the same vantage points is one of the book’s triumphs. Belmonte’s precision as a photographer and geologist creates a “temporal map,” offering tangible evidence of change while evoking both awe and concern.
Lise Laporte complements this with a cultural lens that highlights the significance of heritage and memory. Together, their collaboration transforms the book into more than an academic or artistic exercise—it becomes a meditation on time and place. The inclusion of detailed GPS coordinates invites readers to embark on their own expeditions, underscoring the book’s interactive spirit. This interactivity transforms the book into more than a static artifact—it becomes a guide for readers to engage actively with the Pyrenees, to follow Briet’s footsteps and create their own visual and emotional dialogues.
A Shared Geography
For me, El Pirineo sin Briet helps reframe the walk along the Transpirenaica–transporting me back but also beyond simple snapshots taken in 2017. The book visualizes the fact that geological change can happen in 7 years or 100, challenging this human geographer’s misinformed notion that all geomorphology is slow and ultimately fixed on a hard-to-count scale of eternal geological time. Before this book, I didn’t yet know Lucien Briet, nor did I consider how much the Pyrenees had changed in the heavily industrialized 20th century. Reading this book deepened my understanding of the Pyrenees as a living, breathing landscape—alive with memory, shaped by history, and vulnerable to our choices.
The book’s final chapter, El Pirineo del Futuro (The Pyrenees of Tomorrow), leaves me asking: In what ways do the historical transformations documented in this book guide future conservation efforts? How are communities in the Pyrenees already adapting to ongoing changes, and how can their voices shape the region’s future? What can the Pyrenees teach us about resilience, both ecological and cultural, in the face of global challenges? Are there ways to reinvigorate sustainable practices that have been abandoned over time, such as traditional agriculture and herding, to harmonize human activity with environmental preservation? How can the tools of art and storytelling, exemplified by this book, help us to cultivate a deeper, more empathetic relationship with changing landscapes?
The book provides no easy answers because that is not its purpose. The authors give us a map and coordinates and remind us that the exploration—and responsibility—is ours to undertake.
A Legacy of Imagination, Action, and Reflection
At its core, El Pirineo sin Briet is both a celebration and a challenge. It celebrates the enduring legacy of Lucien Briet, whose vision of the Pyrenees as spaces of awe, wonder, and significance laid the foundation for their conservation. His photographs and writings transformed the Pyrenees from remote wilderness into cherished cultural and natural heritage. Yet the book goes beyond mere celebration, challenging readers to confront the changing landscapes of the Pyrenees and consider their role in shaping the region’s future.
Belmonte and Laporte use Briet’s work as a foundation to explore the dynamic interplay of memory, change, and responsibility that defines these mountains today. Their ability to blend art and science, emotion and intellect, is one of the book’s greatest achievements. By juxtaposing Briet’s historical photographs with modern imagery, they transform abstract discussions of environmental change into something viscerally tangible: glaciers retreating, vegetation shifting, and rivers reshaped by time and human activity. Belmonte’s geological expertise anchors the narrative with scientific rigor, while Laporte’s cultural reflections infuse the story with historical and emotional depth.
Ultimately, El Pirineo sin Briet is more than a book; it is a time capsule, a scientific treatise, and a call to action. It reminds us of the fragility and beauty of the natural world while challenging us to reflect on our roles in shaping its future. Through Lucien Briet’s lens, Belmonte and Laporte rekindle our connection to the Pyrenees and inspire us to protect its enduring legacy.
As Fernando Pessoa’s epigraph reminds us, “What we see is not made of what we see, but of what we are.” El Pirineo sin Briet invites us to reflect on how landscapes—like the Pyrenees—not only reveal their essence but also shape who we are. In an age of climate uncertainty, there is no greater act of hope than imagining—and preserving—the futures we want for generations to come.
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*For more on the Appalachian Trail, listen to EPISODE TWENTY NINE: A Great American Pilgrimage (March 25, 2017) of Geographical Imaginations: Radio Expeditions into the Geographies of Everything and Nothing when we explore the 3500 kilometer walk from Maine to Georgia in the Eastern woods of the United States traversing the ridge-line of the oldest mountains in the world, the Appalachians.
** For more on media representation in the age of climate change, listen to EPISODE FIFTY EIGHT: Poster Bear (November 23, 2019) of Geographical Imaginations: Radio Expeditions into the Geographies of Everything and Nothing. This episode is the second part of a two-episode exploration of two polar bears—the one that travels along the ice and the other one that circulates in the media.