The dominant mode of “Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse” is ambiguity, a preoccupation reflected in the juxtaposition of the title and first stanza itself. The title evokes a sense of grandeur, with the word “stanzas” carrying the graceful gravity of formal poetry and the “Grande Chartreuse,” the name of an ancient monastery that produces a world-famous liqueur, steeped in the weight of history and tradition. This sense of loftiness continues in the opening lines, which describe a rain-softened alpine vista “thick” with cup-shaped white, yellow, and lilac crocuses. However, a contrasting darkness intrudes in Line 3 with the mention of “past forges long disused.” The word “disused,” with its accompanying suggestions of abandonment, death, and decay, immediately changes the poem’s tone.

The climb into the mountains up the mule track carries hints of a religious pilgrimage–and the speaker is indeed on a pilgrimage of sorts–but there is also a growing sense of peril. The upward movement into the mountains elevates the tension and eeriness, with the soft rain of the first stanza becoming a downpour. Even the sound of the streams left behind are “strangled” (Line 9), suggesting murder, and the fog is compared to smoke brooding over a witchy cauldron.