White

White / Marie Darrieussecq;
trans. from the French by Ian Monk
London: Faber, 2006, c2003.
156 p.

I really like reading novels set in the Antarctic, even having had a year of polar reading at one time. So when I saw this slim book at a second-hand book store, I grabbed it. It's been on my reading list for at least a decade. It's a short novel about two people, Edmée and Peter, who are both part of the White Project to build a permanent base at the South Pole, in the far distant future (at time of writing) of 2015. 
It's a bit funny reading it now unless you transpose the date to 2051 to make it feel more likely. While there is a contingent of scientists and technicians at the pole to work on building this base, there is also a manned mission to Mars that they're all talking about; each is a desert and a situation which appeals to those trying to escape humanity. 

Although once they're at the Antarctica base, both of them realize that solitude is the furthest thing from them; nobody is allowed to leave the base alone, and the cramped quarters mean that they are all jumbled together all the time.

But this kind of simultaneous solitude & cramped propinquity serve to highlight personalities and the fissures of human relationships in a vast emptiness. 

As the book starts, Marie is heading to the base on an ocean crossing. The description of pitching waters, storm, seasickness and more is extremely visceral. It's an uncomfortable and physical experience. Meanwhile, Peter is coming the other direction, by plane in a comfy though very cold trip. He's there to maintain the generators; she's there to act as radio operator. 

The writing is exquisite and dream-like. For the first half, the book is descriptively rich, evoking the distances and physical experience of the pole. The narration is from the perspective of a floating cloud of the dead, the ghosts that all these people bring with them (and they both have traumas they are fleeing). This works as a faintly eerie outsiders view on the group at the base. And they also add the shades of previous explorers like Scott and Amundsen, which was one of my favourite elements. 

But about 3/4 of the way through, Edmée and Peter begin an affair. This seems a little lazy, as if it's an inevitable outcome of Edmée being the only woman at the base. And the descriptions suddenly switch from solitude and loneliness to closeups on the physical parts of these two lovers as they explore one another in the temporary solitude of Edmée's radio hut. The sex scenes were jarring; they seemed out of place in this narrative of cold and closed-off people. Mixed in with these scenes are vague relatings of both of their actual nighttime dreams of their past lives in human communities. At this point the disjointed nature of the story became far too strong for me and I skimmed to the end.  And the ending wasn't satisfying, for me. 

It again seemed a bit vague, and a disappointing and inconclusive result for the White Project, although the earlier revelations of the results of the Mars project should have given me a little bit of a heads-up. In any case, the opening pages and the evocative writing made this a great book in the beginning, but it didn't hold my interest long enough to fully enjoy it. I didn't much like either character or the pint of the story in the end. 

It's too bad, because the polar bits themselves are pretty wonderful. But I am glad I read it, finally!

The Frozen Deep

The Frozen Deep / Wilkie Collins (c.1856)
read as ebook

I've always intended to read this short novella, as I am a fan of Wilkie Collins and also very much a fan of Arctic exploration narratives. It was finally The Estella Society hosting a Wilkie in Winter readalong that got me moving on this one!

This is an enjoyable Victorian melodrama, full of misunderstandings, manly men, Polar exploration,and doomed love. It began as a play, put on by Collins and Dickens and their circle, for their own entertainment, based on the doomed 1845 Franklin Expedition. It became quite popular and Collins eventually turned it into a novella.

The story follows Clara Burnham, a young woman who claims to have the second sight. She is currently living with her friend Lucy Crayford, an officer's wife (clearly a Lady Franklin figure). First Lieutenant Crayford, as well as a sailor, Mr. Frank Aldersley, are shipping out on an Arctic expedition in the morning, as the story begins. They are all at a ball at the Crayford's, and Frank and Clara have just pledged their love to one another, secretly. But Clara is worried -- there is a man from her past, Richard Wardour, who has been at sea himself, believing that he and Clara had an agreement, which she had written to him about, denying the idea. Of course, he never got the letter, and of course, he arrives in England the night of the ball, finds Clara, and uncovers the fact that she has another love. He then swears revenge on his rival, if he can discover his name.

Unfortunately for everyone, Richard signs on as a last minute addition to the Arctic expedition to get away from England. And we can all imagine what is going to happen...

I found this story extremely Victorian in its presentation of the women waiting patiently at home, the men feeling entitled to wander off at will and still expect their women to comply with their wishes and society's rules, the odd mixture of Christian morality and occult visions, and the fascination with the Arctic. The alternating focus on Lucy and Clara, and the men of the lost expedition, reminded me strongly of a novel I read a couple of years ago, On the Proper Use of Stars, which was directly about the lost Franklin Expedition and its effects. In that novel, Lady Franklin and her niece Sophia wait at home for news, but they are managing the PR of the expedition rather powerfully as well. The Frozen Deep fictionalizes enough that the conclusion occurs in Newfoundland, where Lucy and Clara make their way on the news that some survivors of the expedition have turned up, after more than a year of silence.

Reading this, with its heavy reliance on the myth of the heroic Franklin expedition, and considering the involvement of Dickens in its writing and original performance, made me a little bit uncomfortable though -- not due to the story itself or the writing. Rather, due to historical factors. When Franklin disappeared, Lady Franklin managed his reputation to ensure a heroic legacy. She sponsored searches for his expedition, she goaded the Navy into action, she attempted to raise the profile of the event in many ways; and one of her big society supporters was Dickens himself.

According to Ken McGoogan's excellent book Fatal Passage, Scottish-born John Rae, a long time employee of the Canadian Hudson's Bay Company, discovered the remains of the Franklin Expedition, due to his comprehensive knowledge of the North and his good relations with native inhabitants (and incidentally, discovered the final link in the Northwest Passage as well). What he found was that in the last stages of their survival, they'd taken to eating one another. Since this was most certainly not the answer that Lady Franklin was interested in hearing, John Rae was villified and mocked by English society, being the only Arctic adventurer never to be knighted, and having his name muddied and his accomplishments (extreme and varied) denied and minimized. One of the prime participants in this activity was Dickens, who questioned the reliability of Eskimo contacts and suggested that Rae was untrustworthy himself. This whole incident kept returning to mind as I was reading The Frozen Deep, as indicative of English beliefs in the superiority of the Royal Navy and "honourable" English explorers.

Otherwise, however, I appreciated Collins' ability, always in evidence in his work,  in creating complex, interesting female characters, and presenting the difficulties within their position in society. While the novel itself is slight, and nowhere near his best work, it captures elements that show up in other books. Definitely a must read if you're a Collins fan, though, and interesting for its historical setting.

Where'd You Go, Bernadette?

Where'd You Go, Bernadette? / Maria Semple
New York: Little, Brown, c2012.
330 p.

Another epistolary read, this one has been repeatedly recommended to me. I'm sure that most readers will have heard of this one by now -- it's the story of Bee Fox, a rather precocious girl living in Seattle with her currently agoraphobic (and formerly famous) mother and her Microsoft exec father.

It is told in a collection of letters, notes and emails back and forth from the various players in the story -- Bernadette, her virtual assistant in India, crazy neighbours, passive-aggressive fellow mothers from Bee's fancy school, and more, with the addition of a few narrative sections to add information to the story.

Bernadette, formerly a star in the architecture field, has closed herself off from most interactions with the outside world, preferring to stay inside of her rambling, crumbling home. Bee, a brilliant student, has been promised a reward if she gets straight A's (which of course she does) and starts off this tale by asking for a family trip to Antarctica.

With her mother anxious about the entire idea, and her father a busy executive falling into a relationship of sorts with his hyperefficient secretary, Bee's trip doesn't look good. But planning goes ahead, until Bernadette disappears while an intervention is being staged in her kitchen.

The second half of the book follows Bee and her father as they travel to Antarctica and follow Bernadette's trail to try to discover what has happened to her. Father-daughter bonding (and non-bonding) goes on, they discuss Bernadette's place in their lives, we get to see Antarctica even as the sullen teenager Bee ignores it, and get to some emotional depth in Bee's longing for her mother. Finally, a resolution: by chance and daring, Bee and her father take action and find out what has happened.

I liked this book. It was fun, with snappy dialogue, some entertaining characters, great settings -- both Seattle and Antarctica are real places here. The epistolary format perhaps didn't work so well for the entire story, but exposition is really hard to capture authentically solely via the written word, especially in our non-letter writing culture. It was much more normal for 18th century letter writers to go on and on about every detail, since there was no other way that people were finding out information, for example. Still, it was pretty well done, and really creative and entertaining.

What I didn't like so much was the confusion I felt between the characters of Bee and Bernadette. Not only are their names similar, but their voices are as well. They think and speak in the same patterns, and with the same insouciant sarcasm. I couldn't immediately recognize who was speaking in some scenes, despite the fact that one character is a precocious teenager and the other a disappointed adult. Sometimes I felt like the structure and dialogue was just a little too snappy.

So while I didn't adore this one as much as many other readers have, I still enjoyed it and appreciated what it was trying to do. I liked many of the elements and will most definitely be keeping my eyes open for this writer's next book.

On The Proper Use of Stars

On The Proper Use of Stars / Dominique Fortier; translated from French by Sheila Fischman.

Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, c2010.

269 p.

I picked up this book some time ago, seduced by the gorgeous cover (stars? tea? I am in!) Also wanted to read it for two more reasons: it is about the Franklin Expedition, a fascination of mine (as evidenced by my Polar Reading year) and because it is a translation from French - the author Dominique Fortier is from Quebec and the translator Sheila Fischman is the best in the business. All these things were pluses. So perhaps my expectations were just a wee bit high.

I liked it. I thought it was interesting enough, with really good writing and some nice twists in the tale. However, I did find it slow moving at the start, and maybe just because I've read so many, many books about the Edwardians and polar exploration, especially Franklin, I was hoping for something new. A new take on the story, something a bit different in the perceptions of the main characters or their motivations, their actions or their fate. And perhaps it delivered this kind of newness to French readers -- is there such a tradition of stories about these polar explorers in French? I don't know, as my French reading level stops at about grade four. (Please leave a comment if you do know)

It is a very English book, and maybe that is its triumph -- it is a French book which reads like British period fiction, very convincingly. The story is two-fold, moving back and forth between Franklin, Crozier and their crew stuck in the Arctic ice, and Lady Jane Franklin and her niece Sophia left behind in Europe. The double view we have of the tale -- seeing the fate of the expedition at the same time as we see the struggles of Lady Jane to get someone to express concern about the length of time they'd been away -- gives us a omniscient view of all the characters. Crozier is the real leader of the expedition, but he is homesick for a girl who doesn't dream of him. Sophia's concerns about marriage and the men who are not there versus the men who are seem a little bit vague; her connection to one of the men early in the book isn't exactly clear, and we have no real idea of who or when she will marry, or even what she thinks of it all herself. The structure of the book mirrors the separation of the female and male worlds in Edwardian England -- Lady Jane is clearly the more ambitious and capable Franklin, and yet it is Sir John who is lauded and sent off on another expedition that he doesn't seem fit for, according to the fictional journal of his second-in-command, Crozier. The two factions, men and women, exist in utterly different worlds in this story; tea parties and political angling back in England -- frostbite and gnawing on maggot-ridden hardtack in the Arctic. I did appreciate the way Fortier drew the parallels.

I suppose I wasn't overawed by this tale as it felt very familiar to me. All the action was foregone -- I knew the personalities and the progress of events, so I didn't feel as if I'd discovered anything newly fascinating. If you haven't read as much polar fiction, or are interested simply because of the topic or the author's technique, you may find it a great read. But I also have a well-documented dislike of the use of real characters in fiction, so that shaded my feelings about this tale as well.

For a story of arctic explorers gone from home for lengthy periods of time, while their various women proceed with their lives separately at home, I preferred Andrea Barrett's Voyage of the Narwhal. But I will be quite interested to see what Fortier writes next.

DOMINIQUE FORTIER was born in 1972. She holds a Ph.D. in literature from McGill University and is an editor and literary translator. On the Proper Use of Stars, her debut novel, was first published in Quebec in 2008 as Du bon usage des étoiles and was shortlisted for the French language Governor General’s Award for Fiction, the Prix des libraires du Québec, the Grand Prix littéraire Archambault, and the Prix Senghor. It is being adapted for the screen by Jean-Marc Vallée.

Polar Reading slump

One of the 'themes' I've been reading along for the last year or so, since International Polar Year began, is Polar fiction. I haven't finished any in a while now, though I have a few with bookmarks poking out in the bedside stack. For the time being, I can share some gorgeous photos which I discovered through Bearcastle. This Norwegian photographer is quite impressive; I recall lots of aurora borealis when I was a kid up in Northern Saskatchewan, but they never looked as stunning as this. I suppose I needed to be farther North! Enjoy some surreal beauty...

Northern Solitudes

The Solitude of Thomas Cave / Georgina Harding

(read as an ARC)
now available from Bloomsbury

I read this as part of my Polar Reading theme, and it was a great choice. It's quite different from many of the polar books I've read so far, in that it has nothing to do with Edwardian expeditions. It is the story of Thomas Cave, a taciturn sailor on a whaling ship, and is set in the 1600's. In 1616, Cave's ship, the Heartsease, is readying itself to return to England before it gets locked in by ice. An argument begins among the crew, and the result is a wager which leaves Thomas Cave to overwinter alone in the Arctic whaling grounds -- something which has never been done before. In his silent and lonely vigil, there is more than cold, starvation, or hungry polar bears to worry him. He must cope with his own mind, full of grief and shadows, playing tricks on him.

The story is related by Thomas Goodlard, a young shipmate of Cave's at the time of the wager. He tells it as reminiscence, in 1640; the book opens and closes with Goodlard's story. The centre section of the book (which I think is the strongest and most captivating) is "The Experience of Thomas Cave", told in third person and utterly convincing. The most startling thing about this section of the book is its silence. With Thomas Cave holed up in his small cabin, no other human for hundreds of miles, you can almost feel the quality of silence. It's as if the book absorbs all sound as you read. That's why it is so striking when Cave, having his world reduced to one small dark space, and absolute solitude with only memories keeping him company, picks up his violin:

"Yet now for just a moment the silence that has held like a taboo in the room has been broken. He takes the instrument down from its wooden pegs. Not to play it but to handle it only, he tells himself, to run the pads of his fingers down the frets, to pluck a string and see how far its tune has drifted in the cold. Just one distorted note: a flicker of memory, eyes and a swirl of skirts.... So much is contained there within its hollow body: the potential of sound and the memory of sound, and not only music but all the people and evenings past, a thousand people, a hundred different places."

We meet within his memories the woman he had loved, and begin to understand what drove him north. The tone of the writing, slowly revealing Cave's past, here reminds me somehow of the many historical novels about Dutch painters (ie: Girl with a Pearl Earring), as the air of the past and the descriptions are strong and flash almost visually across the page. There is something in this story which enchants, like a fairy tale, an original Grimm's, dark and mysterious, despite its being nominally about survival in a very harsh and real landscape.

The book concludes with Thomas Goodlard's recounting of what became of Cave in later years, after the Heartsease had returned for him and brought him back to England. I wasn't nearly as fascinated with this section. I didn't really see the need for it, and would rather have read a more compelling resolution at the end of Cave's vigil itself. This section is a bit of a tour of the misty fens of England in the 1600's and is quite haunting in itself, but Cave's actual solitude is hard to top. Still, it is a stunning first novel, and has stayed in my thoughts for the last month or so since I finished it. Harding's ability to write of sensation -- the cold, the darkness and returning sun, silence, the sounds of bears snuffling around his 'home', the taste of blood or hot food, teeth loose and sore from malnutrition, all the many tactile impressions -- is superb. I'm very glad I read this unique novel of polar experience.

**You can read the first chapter of this book, and an interesting review by Steven Heighton, author of another "Polar castaway" story, Afterlands (which I reviewed a while ago now), at the NY Times online.

Edwardian Adventurers

Victim of the Aurora / Thomas Keneally

San Diego : Harcourt, 2001, c1978.

This novel, originally published in 1978, is set in the Antarctic, 1909. In Keneally's preface, he states that he wanted to discuss the ever-fascinating subject of all-male expeditions to the South Pole in a way consistent with the times; to look at an expedition within an Edwardian mindset. Although all of the gentlemanly Edwardian explorers give no hint of conflict in their journals, Keneally wanted to approach a situation rife with it. This idea meshes well with another book I've been slowly reading, Francis Spufford's I May be some time. In that book, Spufford examines the Idea of ice in the Edwardian imagination. In this novel, Keneally takes that sublime appeal of the icy wilderness and peoples it with prosaic Edwardian men. It succeeds admirably, even with a few loose ends left dangling.

It is a reminiscence told by Anthony Piers, the expedition's artist. He is 92, living in a seniors residence in California, and this distancing in time allows us to benefit from his pointing out the differences in belief he was under as a young man and as a seasoned adult. The group of 26 men is heading to Antarctica just a few years before Ernest Shackleton's Endurance would head to the South Pole. Sir Eugene Stewart is leading a scientific cohort, but along with the varied geologists, zoologists, & meteorologists is included a journalist, Victor Henneker. He is supposed to supply news to the outside world, but as is discovered, he is keeping a logbook not only of worthy news but of all the scandals of his fellow travellers, for blackmail or for tabloid income. Various fellows are revealed within the journal as adulterers, thieves, or heaven forbid, homosexuals. When Victor is found dead outside at a weather screen, the tenor of the isolated group changes. Was it an accident? Murder? Was one of their small number responsible for such a violent act? Who can be trusted? Was it the mythical Forbes-Chalmers, a lost individual from a previous expedition rumoured to be living as a hermit on the Antarctic plain? As Anthony is involved in questioning his colleagues, his Edwardian ideals are battered, foreshadowing the loss of innocence of the coming war years. As the situation comes to a head, Anthony realizes what is about to happen, and says, "It was the act that rendered the condition of the century terminal. Nothing ever since has surprised me."

The voice of this novel evokes the Edwardian gentleman, and the descriptions of an Antarctic station are superb. Despite the figure of Forbes-Chalmers flickering in and out of the story and fading away in a flimsy manner at the end, this is a closed circle. You can feel the cold and the dark and the small society ensconced there.

Polar Reading TBR List

In answer to a couple of questions as to why I've been so obsessed with polar-themed reading, it's because I've been working away at a list of Polar themed books since March, the beginning of International Polar Year. I was inspired by all the scientific studies that would be occurring, along with my everpresent fascination with Edwardian explorers and the Arctic/Antarctic.
I haven't read as many as I'd planned, but it's a rather amorphous list, always changing as I go. I'm reading ya and adult fiction, as well as a few non-fiction choices. So far I've found some really amazing work, some by chance, books I've picked up solely because they had some connection to the Poles or arctic regions. But for the next year and a bit (until the end of IPY in March '09) here are some of the books that are on my radar:


FICTION
1. The Ice Child / Elizabeth McGregor
2. The Solitude of Thomas Cave / Georgina Harding
3. The Frozen Deep / Wilkie Collins
4. Arthur Gordon Pym / Edgar Allen Poe
5. White / Marie Darrieussecq
6. Antarctic Navigation / Elizabeth Arthur
7. The Terror / Dan Simmons
8. The Survivor / Thomas Keneally (am half way through his excellent "Victim of the Aurora")

9. Troubling a Star / Madeleine L'engle


NON-FICTION
1. I May be some time / Francis Spofford (I'm about 1/3 through this one at present)
2. The Worst Journey in the World / Apsley Cherry-Garrard
3. Fatal Passage / Ken McGoogan
4. Lady Franklin's Revenge / Ken McGoogan
5. Skating to Antarctica /Jenny Diski

Anyone have any other suggestions? I've found a few really intriguing YA novels so far. There seems to be a fascination with Antarctica in particular, especially with Scott. It makes for good fiction!

And speaking of the Poles...

As I'm on the theme of the Poles, and Christmas just happens to coming up, how about giving a polar bear for Christmas? You can do so at the WWF's Polar Bear Central, a site which also has an amazing array of information on WWF's work in the Arctic, ecards, fun stuff to download etc.

Or check out Polar Bears International's lively website and gift shop.

You can shop at the Canadian Wildlife Federation's site; one of their many projects is to help protect the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska by supporting the Canadian government's opposition to development of the ANWR. There's also the Alaska Wilderness League, an American group determined to protect Alaska's wild spaces.

In association with IPY, there's a group of artists who are celebrating the centennial of the first navigation of the Northwest Passage at Arctic Quest. Take a look if you want to see original art intended to focus attention on the beauty and fragility of the Arctic ecosystem, or want to support their charitable efforts in education.

Madly Mountaineering

At the Mountains of Madness / H.P. Lovecraft
New York : Modern Library, 2005.

After much beginning and re-beginning, after putting this book on a couple of Challenge lists(Carl's RIP II, my personal Polar Reading list), I have FINALLY finished reading this 102 page novella.

I'm not sure why it took me so long to read the whole thing. Perhaps it was the hundred other books distracting me, or perhaps it was the prose itself; the story is presented in the form of a scientific report, so begins intentionally dry and verbose, contrasting with the increasingly sensational content. The story goes as follows: a scientific research team from Miskatonic University heads to Antarctica in 1931. They are there to do geological research, but in the course of their drilling a smaller expeditionary group comes across a subterraean chamber in which lie the bodies of 8 very strange, winged beings. Being scientists they are very excited and proceed to perform an autopsy on one creature. When the narrator and his team make it to the camp, it is to find a disastrous situation; their colleagues and all their sled dogs have been slaughtered, and the alien bodies are gone. The narrator and another colleague, Danforth, set out to follow the signs indicating where the bodies may have disappeared to. They take their plane toward the mountains on the horizon, the eponymous Mountains of Madness. There they discover strange formations which are a bit unsettling, and when they cross the mountains they discover an ancient stone city which stretches for miles. The isolated, utterly alien city on this Antarctic plateau must be explored, they are scientists, after all. So they land and begin exploring, going further and further into the city. They go down through the remaining structures until they are entering an underground tunnel; at this point they discover the missing corpses of one of the scientists from the camp and one of their dogs, bound to a sled like specimens. As they enter the caverns, they come to realize they just might not be alone after all. The horror is such that as they are racing back toward the surface and their plane, Danforth starts gibbering out the names of the subway stations of the Boston-Cambridge line. I found that moment very chilling indeed, and Danforth is never quite right after that.

It's a fascinating book, and the edition I read includes a lengthy essay, Lovecraft's "Supernatural Horror in Literature". After this eerie tale of supernatural horror in Antarctica, I feel I should read Dan Simmons' Arctic story, "The Terror". I am glad I've finally finished this classic by Lovecraft. There are still many Polar themed books ahead for the last month of this first International Polar Year, but I'm relieved that IPY really runs for 2 years, until March 2009; I'll need that long to catch up to my growing Polar TBR list.

Not if you were the last person on earth...

The Brief History of the Dead / Kevin Brockmeier

New York : Vintage, 2007, c2006.

252 p.

I read this brief history on my brief getaway, and I enjoyed the read. On mulling it over, I see some fatal flaws, but it was a good read while it was underway. The basic premise of this novel is that there is another world after this one; a great City in which everyone who dies remains as long as they are remembered by someone still alive. Once that last person who knew you personally dies, you pass on to the great unknown. This is a wonderful conceit, and of course to properly play with it, the author has to posit what would occur when the entire population of the earth, save one, dies simultaneously. This is what he indeed does; humanity is wiped out by a rapidly replicating virus known as "The Blinks", and the only person left alive on the entire planet is Laura Byrd, a scientist in Antarctica. She has been kept clear of infection due to the fact that her team's supplies have been damaged by storms and the other two scientists with her have set off for help. They never return, having been infected when they locate a recently arrived team of researchers carrying the virus. After a few weeks she realizes she is truly alone, and sets out on her own to find the research camp. She does, and finds 20 graves as well. She sets out again, this time to a penguin rookery where there should be radio equipment which she can use to contact the outside world. She arrives. The equipment is damaged beyond repair. At this point, near the end of the book, Laura succumbs to exhaustion, starvation and extreme frostbite. Simultaneously, the nether-city shrinks and shrinks, finally vanishing completely.

The idea of an afterlife City reminds me of the 1940's novel All Hallows Eve. In that novel, the City is dark and echoing with emptiness; the dead are pictured as being stranded, in a lifeless city, alone. In this novel, the City seems to operate just like a large urban centre, with apartments, restaurants, parks and so forth. The practical questions of sewage and garbage don't come up. The inhabitants eat and drink and work and philosophize much as they would while alive. The good part of this is that you meet various inhabitants and hear their stories of dying and arriving at the City. The not so good part of this is that you meet various inhabitants and hear their stories of dying and arriving at the City. The chapters alternate between the City and Laura, and after a while I really didn't care how or why the beggar on the corner or the teenage boys in the park died and made their way to the city. I really just wanted to find out what Laura was doing.

Placing Laura in Antarctica was clearly a necessary move -- where else would she be completely isolated from all human and animal life for an extended period of time? However, I felt that he did not use Antarctica to full advantage. There was no mystery for me in her trek across the ice. She moved quickly and without much difficulty except for the cold. The real story was the City, and Laura's experience of the Antarctic seemed like simply a convenient backdrop. It was ultimately unsatisfying for me; Laura does not seem to ever come to the realization that she is the last person alive on Earth, she does not seem to really pay attention to the world around her or feel sorrow or regret at leaving it. There is never any contact between the inhabitants of the City and Laura, so she doesn't experience a revelation of life after death. There are just too many loose ends in the philosophical set-up for it to fully convince me. I suppose I am the practical sort and couldn't just accept the idea of a "City of the Dead" which has no government, economy, or municipal services, yet people eat and function no differently than when alive. Nobody appears to have had any mystical experiences in death, nobody has been changed by dying. I feel that this novel didn't reach far enough.

It is an original piece of work, though, and will make you think (though hopefully not about unattended sewage, as I kept circling back to, sigh.) He brings up some intriguing ideas. At one point, one of the characters is trying to estimate how many people you might interact with in your life -- how many you would be keeping in the City -- and I defy anyone not to stop and wonder what your own number would be. The writing is generally quite good, the tone and style matched to the theme of memory and love and connection. Overall, though, it just doesn't hang together, at least for me. But if you want to read a literary-like fantasy that brings up some discussion points, give this a try. Also - the cover is great - very appealing and suited to the story.

Chilling out with YA fiction

Surviving Antarctica : Reality TV 2083 / Andrea White

New York : Eos, c2005

On Thin Ice / Jamie Bastedo

Calgary: Red Deer Press, c2006.

I've just read side by side two Young Adult novels, set at opposite ends of the planet. They are both interesting reads though quite different in approach.

The first, set in Antarctica, is a futuristic look at American society where education is gained solely by watching television, and the opportunity to go to college and have a resultant upper class life is decided by dice throw. Five teenagers, having lost their throw, are desperate enough to sign up for the latest reality show: Historical Survivor Antarctica. If they survive this reenactment of Scott's doomed 1910-1913 expedition they have a chance to win cash and an education. The problem is, they must survive. There have been many Historical Survivor shows before, and it is life and death. (my favourite: Historical Survivor Black Plague) To increase ratings, this show is using teenagers, but this idea backfires and becomes a rallying point for people to stand up against the excesses and unfair structures in their society. The novel starts a bit slowly, introducing each of the kids with their own chapter, and feeling a bit formulaic as a result. But it picks up as the group heads off for Antarctica, and their experiences trying to survive scripted catastrophes as well as the weather allow them each to find their strengths and to bond as a team. The plotting is pretty straightforward and predictable, but the futuristic setting is possible enough that it may spark some thought and discussion among teens who read it. An important element of the book's theme is the need to work for the common good and to stand up for what is right. It's an important message, and it is told in a light and entertaining manner. It's a fun read, full of historical tidbits about Scott's Expedition. For these reasons alone, I think it would make a good summer read. But there is also the bonus of reading about blizzards and ice and frostbite while sweltering in the August sun. :)

The second, On Thin Ice, is set in the present day in the Canadian Arctic. Ashley is part Inuit, and after her family moves to the town of Nanurtalik she begins dreaming of polar bears. Her shamanic dreams affect what happens to the town. She must learn about her family history from her grandmother and her strange Uncle Jonas, who carves powerful bears from firestone. He also drums and sings, all of which Ashley discovers once he awakens from years of seizures and sleep. Ashley's growing struggle to accept her shamanic heritage and her artistic gifts play out over a year of upset in her village. There are freak storms, the first polar bear sighting in 30 years, and even a jet crashing into the tundra. Her connection to polar bears is also discussed in relation to climate change and how that affects everyone in the Arctic, human and animal alike. (The cover carries the logo of the World Wildlife Fund). I was impressed by this novel; the author lives in the Northwest Territories and works with teens, and his familiarity with his subjects comes through. I found it to be well structured, and a very informative glimpse at a unusual way of life. It provides lots of excitement, some wilderness information, wonderfully entertaining family dynamics, and a likeable and unique main character. I'll recommend this one for people interested in a different way of looking at the Arctic. The author's website is also full of resources about climate change, polar bears, the Arctic and his other books.

Naming northern locales

Let the Northern Lights erase your name / Vendela Vida



This one was a review copy from HarperCollins Canada, and it was one I'd been looking forward to reading for some time. The synopsis intrigued me, and in my year of Polar reading, I figure that a story set mainly in Lappland counts as such.

It's the story of a young woman, Clarissa, who discovers at her father's funeral that he was not her biological parent. Her mother had deserted the family years before, and now Clarissa feels bereft and unmoored, stripped of her identity. The name on her birth certificate is that of her mother's first husband, Eero Valkeapaa, whom she knew nothing of previously. He is Finnish, a Sami priest, so off Clarissa goes to Helsinki to find him and hear the truth.

It's quite a trek for her. When she finally arrives at the home of the pastor she believes is her father, he and his wife take her in and when they realize her misapprehension, they set her straight. The story they tell is so horrifying that she refuses to accept it, and eludes him to go further north, among the Sami, where she knows she will find the facts about her mother. She discovers a few kindred spirits who help her in her quest; Anna Kristine, a Sami healer who does not speak English, her grandson Henrik, who takes Clarissa further north to an ice hotel where they stay overnight. It is there, appropriately, that she finds her mother. There is no grand reconciliation scene; her mother is as cold as the wilderness surrounding them. They spend a night together, feeling the other's presence in the next room, but barely speaking. In the morning when Clarissa must leave, she has no answers for any of her questions, and absolutely no connection to her mother. At this point she realizes that they are dead to each other, and this longing for a mother to explain and care for her must also die.

The truth of her paternity breaks upon her on her return to Ana and Heinrik's home, and she must grapple with the questions of the book. In what does our identity lie? What exactly is family? How does one live one's own life without being captive to heredity? Where does one choose to live and how much of one's history should one tell others?

The language of this novel is realistic, austere, and reflects the setting and the character's state of mind. It deals with Clarissa's grief at the death of her dad (she states that he might not have been her biological father, but he was her Dad.) Yet in her grief, she remains active in searching for answers. She is not a typical character by any stretch, and the story she tells is fascinating. She takes an unfamiliar setting, that of Lappland and the Sami people, and brings it down to a personal level. It is not anthroplogy disguised as a novel, however; the setting enhances Clarissa's story rather that overwhelms.

I have to admit I wasn't really sure about this book for the first chapter or so, but it grew on me, and I ended up really wanting things to work out for the heroine. The ending felt a little like an add-on, but it shows us the choices that Clarissa made, the way she negotiated a life for herself in the face of her discoveries. This was an original take on a story of family secrets and the search for identity.

A Fairy Ring

Fairy Ring / Martine Desjardins; trans. by Fred A. Reed & David Homel.

Vancouver: Talonbooks, c2001.

This is a Québecois novel set in Atlantic Canada, 1895. It follows an epistolary format, though is not strictly written in letters; some journal entries, log book entries and newspaper columns are interleaved. It is like looking into a family fonds at some forgotten archive and finding it is Pandora's Box.

The basic premise is that Clara, wife of obsessed mycologist Edmond Weiss, is being isolated in a rented house on the coast of Nova Scotia in order to take the "sleep cure" for her hysteria. This involves sleeping for 15 hours a day, and eventually also being injected with morphine. The novel is rife with the dark side of Victorian pseudo-science; Freud's paper on hysteria had just been published, and both Edmond and Dr. Clavel of Dr. Clavel's Clinic recommend and carry out horrendous "treatments" with the passive Clara as their subject. The story also cuts to the log book of Capt. Ian Ryder, whose home the Weiss' are renting while he is off on a quest to reach the North Pole. He has seen Clara in passing on her wedding day and fallen deeply in love. He goes to the Arctic to try to freeze out his passions, just as Clara's passions are being frozen out both literally, with Dr. Clavel's ice water baths and compresses, and figuratively by Edmond's abusive attempts to force her to fulfill her marital duties.

This is not a book for the faint-hearted. Psychological and sexual abuse, graverobbing, cannibalism, sadomasochism, insanity, hinted-at-murder; all find a place here. Yet somehow it is also extremely erudite and compelling. Very Québecois, I'd say, from the French books I've been reading recently -- the Gothic imagination is alive and well in Quebec. It feels like a modern Poe, his suggested horrors taken one step further and viewed through a feminist eye.

The fairy ring suggested in the title ties in to Edmond's occupation as a mycologist. Fairy rings are circular growths of a mushroom fungus that may kill the grass encircled. There is also the legend that anyone who dances inside a fairy ring will be taken by the fairies, or become fey. Either of these explanations can be applied to Clara, who is being suffocated by the small circle of people surrounding her, who feed off her condition. Edmond needs her to be ill so he can continue his abusive behaviour, her sister Irene likes to make use of Clara's isolation to arrange assignations for herself, plus of course it is easy to feel superior to someone undergoing treatment for hysteria. It is only Capt. Ryder, miles away, who understands her position. He himself is prisoned on a boat locked in ice, surrounded by his mutinous crewmen. He says, "How repelled I feel by this promiscuity with individuals for whom I truly feel nothing but aversion." This could stand in for Clara's emotional state as well.

The story progresses in elaborate, cystalline Victorian prose. The intelligence in the vocabulary and breadth of familiarity with the irregularities in the Victorian psyche make this novel a disturbing yet somehow distancing feat. Indeed, ice, sculptures of glass, the wild northern ocean, frigid temperatures and solitude play a large part in this story. How Clara escapes Edmond and feels a spark of the possibility of connection with the returned Capt. Ryder depends entirely on her challenging her own passivity. The conclusion is ambiguous; Clara feels the new possibilites yet she returns to the scene of her worst degredations. Will she prevail? There is no certainty of it, but no certainty of failure, either.

This was a challenging but rewarding read, an outgrowth of a unique sensibility. The author has two more novels, which I may have to now search out.

Afterlands Review

Afterlands by Steven Heighton

This novel is difficult to summarize: based on a real event, it features Roland Kruger, a survivor of a botched Arctic expedition. In 1872 the USS Polaris foundered, and nineteen crewmen and Inuit men, women and children were stranded on an ice floe for nearly six months. Miraculously, every one of them survived, to be rescued by Newfoundland fishermen when they had drifted far enough south. Upon publication of their commanding officer Captain Tyson's memoir of this feat of endurance, Kruger appears to disadvantage.

Heighton reimagines Kruger's role and the dynamics of survival in this story. He throws in an unrequited love affair between Kruger and the Inuit woman Tukulito, and then follows each into their lives after the rescue - hence the title. This novel really works in its first half. The descriptions of the Arctic and of the relationships between men of different nationalities and social stratum are sharp and visceral. The clash of Inuit and American cultures is evident, especially in the character of Tukulito, or as they call her, Hannah. The exigencies of survival make for compelling reading, culminating in the shockingly memorable scene in which the castaways must hold their one boat fast on the ice floe during a violent storm lasting all night. They are driven off their feet and lashed by frigid waves and icy winds, but somehow keep hold of the boat and of their place upon the ever shrinking floe. This book is worth reading for that scene alone. I found, however, that in the second half of the book my interest flagged. It follows Kruger, Hannah and Capt. Tyson into the years after their ordeal. Tyson is compelled to return to the Arctic again and again. Hannah, her husband and child move to New England, where she attempts to live like a respectable Christian; her husband joins endless expeditions and is always going north. Kruger becomes a wanderer, heading to Mexico where he spends years, drifting and eventually settling down with wife and children. When his new family dies of cholera he begins wandering once more. He is pressed into service in a local civil war, people dying all around him, and when he finally decides to head north to Hannah, it is without the knowledge that she and her daughter have both succumbed to TB.

I understand Heighton's interest in pursuing the idea of what happens to a person after a great ordeal, but I felt like the two halves of the book were disconnected. It seemed like they were two distinct stories which happened to be about the same person. Life can run in discrete chapters as well as books can; however, I was tring to focus on both Kruger's Arctic ordeal and his life in Mexico equally and it was discombobulating. What was most important? I wasn't quite sure. Both parts were appealing but there were just too many entire lives packed in. I needed more colour, more density; there were so many moments telegraphed that needed resolution. The story would have been well served by some Victorian length and breadth!

I read it with fascination, though. I always wonder how a person ends up where they do, and Heighton does an admirable job of illuminating this question. It is an absorbing, if slightly fractured, read.

Arctic voyages

A few years back, I read Andrea Barrett's The Voyage of the Narwhal. Refocusing on polar literature lately made me want to look at this novel again. I loved it the first time & so on looking it over again, I thought I'd share why I think this book is so great.
First, of course, is the fact that I've always liked reading about Arctic explorers, as did Barrett herself, according to an interview.
"I had a great passion for the Arctic as a little girl. When I was seven or eight, all I did was read things about the Arctic, like Peary, Cook, Nansen, Shackleton, and Amundsen."
Then there is the writing itself. Using excerpts of various naturalists & explorers to begin the chapters, she continues on with the experiences of the scientist characters, both in the Arctic and afterward. Rather than an "adventure" story, this seems more of an expedition, both into the natural world and into the motives and purposes within each participant. The book focuses on Erasmus Darwin Wells, a naturalist nearing 40, who believes that his feelings of uselessness will be assuaged by accompanying his future brother-in-law Zechariah Voorhees (Zeke) on an Arctic expedition. Of course, all goes horribly wrong, with Zeke proving to be a terrible captain, stranding the expedition to over-winter in the Arctic. The details of the story make it slow, precise reading; but the accumulation of information about all the varied characters intrigued me enough to continue on. While the expedition itself is, of course, made up of men, this story also includes the women left behind in Philadelphia. Erasmus' sister & Zeke's fiancée, Lavinia and her companion Alexandra have their own stories to tell. The themes of exploration, of one's interior life as well as the landscape, show up in both groups.
I enjoyed this book, I think, as much for the realism of the Arctic survival story as for the luminous, poetic prose. The interweaving of the actual voyage with the life stories of Erasmus' family members and his quietly developing romance make this a very satisfying read. It is an introduction to an entire family and to the society they find themselves navigating. Highly recommended for its precision, and for the extraordinary way Barrett breathes life into this historical moment.

The White Darkness

As a start to my Polar reading theme, I picked up a YA novel that has received much critical acclaim, The White Darkness by Geraldine McCaughrean. I am not surprised that it has won a number of awards; it is a gripping adventure story told exquisitely. The cover is also perfectly evocative of the story, something you don't see every day!

Sym is a shy, partially deaf 14 yr. old, who has a companion she hears in her head. It is Capt. Lawrence "Titus" Oates, who died some 90 years ago as part of Scott's doomed Antarctic expedition. In some ways she is a very young fourteen - her schoolmates are interested in boys, kisses, magazines - while she is focused on her interior life and her dreamy Edwardian hero, Capt. Oates, as well as her absorption with "The Ice". She reads extensively about the Antarctic and its explorers, thanks to her "Uncle" Victor who has been training her up in his obsession since childhood. Victor was her father's business partner and has apparently supported Sym and her mother since her father's death. He comes up with the idea of taking them to Paris on a weekend trip, which somehow turns into Sym and Victor going to Antarctica. This trip of a lifetime starts as a dream for Sym, but quickly degenerates as Victor's true agenda is revealed. Outwardly genial, his mad obsession with finding the mythical entrance to the interior of the earth, proposed by discredited scientist John Cleves Symmes, causes him to sabotage the tour they are on, steal an all-terrain vehicle and set out into the centre of Antarctica with Sym and two other men. The situation becomes more and more harrowing, with Sym discovering resources within herself she had not known of. Thanks to the constant presence of Titus Oates, Sym is able to save herself as Victor goes completely mad and is revealed as a remorseless murderer.

The writing in this novel is marvellous. The language and the technique of having Sym living so much in her head allow for the enchanting presence of Titus Oates, a hero of my own who I was happy to see in such a glowing light. Sym and Titus are equally heroic in this story, but I feel that the true star of this novel is the Antarctic itself. McCaughrean's lyrical yet starkly descriptive prose brought to life the inhospitable atmosphere, the danger and the bone-chilling cold. I read it during a few days of extreme winter weather here, so when I looked up and saw snow blowing by horizontally it seemed very atmospheric! There are many elements to appreciate here; Sym's intense coming-of-age, the intricately plotted revelations of Uncle Victor's true perfidy, the extreme adventure of survival, the narrative voice & structure of including Titus' voice as a counterpoint to Sym's own. It all results in a very strong adventure novel, starring a girl, which I would recommend without reservation. What a treat!

A professional review by Adele Geras, which is just what I would have said had I been a more eloquent reviewer, can be found here.

Reading the Poles

International Polar Year has just begun.

It officially runs March 1/07 to March 1/08, but will run on until March 1/09 to give researchers time to do all they need to do. This is a big event, which occurs every 50 years. It is very timely as we all worry about global warming and climate change and the havoc that may result. There is a wonderful website for IPY, which covers its history, the projects being done this time around by participants all over the globe, and some great links & articles. There's even a link to a blog by Antarctic researchers, who post amazing photos and seem to have a great sense of humour!
As my home country is spending a lot on research initiatives this IPY, I thought that I could help out just a little by focusing my reading on polar narratives this year. I'll try to read in the polar vein and report back all year long. I've always been interested in tales of exploration and ice and cold. Since I was young, the stories of those such as Scott, Shackleton, Franklin, Nansen, and Amundsen have all fascinated me. The immortal last words uttered by Titus Oates of the doomed Scott expedition, "I'm just going outside, and I may be some time", have become part of my personal lexicon.
For this IPY, I'll read fiction and/or non-fiction, whichever strikes my fancy. No set number or time line, just as I am moved to do so. I have a few favourites, which I may review to begin with, and will keep reading all year long.