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Alone

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Already famous for his flights over the North and South Poles, Admiral Richard E. Byrd (1888-1957) set out in 1934 on what would become his most harrowing adventure. Isolated in the polar night with no hope of rescue until spring, Byrd began suffering inexplicable symptoms of mental and physical illness. ALONE is the remarkable story of his struggle to save his life and his sanity.

296 pages, Paperback

First published November 30, 1937

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Displaying 1 - 30 of 182 reviews
Profile Image for Adrianne Mathiowetz.
250 reviews293 followers
December 30, 2014
The back of this memoir is going to try and sell itself to you with how much the Antarctic sucks, and how incredible it is that this guy spent 5 months there by himself in near constant darkness and 70-something below zero temperatures every day, and all of this in 1933 when they didn't have synthetic fabrics with moisture-wicking properties or internet or fancy sleeping bags or any fun REI doo-dads. And all of that IS shocking and impressive. You're often turning the pages in horror. Every few hours he seems to be freezing some new body part and it's just a post-script to the events of the day. He wakes up and it's dark. He goes outside at 2pm to record the meteorological measurements and it's dark, and he goes for a little walk to stretch his legs and it's dark and then he's lost and it's dark, and then he finds his way back and it's dark and he climbs into his ice-encrusted sleeping bag and it's dark and he forgot his alarm clock so he hopes he wakes up in time to collect the data again when it will be dark. My god. I can barely handle the sun setting at 4pm.

The Christian Science Monitor describes this book as "an epic of man against himself." And a lot of this book is about struggle in an extreme environment, with extreme isolation. (Once a week he has a kind of phone call with one of his peers -- he can hear this person's voice, but to communicate himself he can only use morse code. And ... that's it, for five months.) But so much of the takeaway of this book was ethereal beauty and transcendence. Byrd is a lyrical, acutely self-aware writer. He may have been the only person in human history capable of not only doing the physically/psychologically dangerous things he did, but doing it all with a grace and thoughtfulness that is always a pleasure and inspiration to read, whether in his diary entries or later narration and reflection:

"When I was growing up, I used to steal out of the house at night, and go walking in Glass's woods, which were a little way up the road from our place. In the heavy shadows of the Shenandoah Valley hills, the darkness was a little terrifying, as it always is to small boys; but, when I would pause and look up into the sky, a feeling that was midway between peace and exhilaration would seize me. I never quite succeeded, as a boy, in analyzing that feeling, any more than I did when it used to come to me as a naval officer, in the night watches at sea, and later when, as an explorer, I first looked upon mountains and lands which no one before me had ever seen. No doubt it was partly animal: the sheer expanding discovery of being alive, of growing, of no longer being afraid. But there was more to it than just that. There was the sense of identification with vast movements: the premonition of destiny that is implicit in every man; and the sense of waiting for the momentary revelation."
Profile Image for Ruth.
118 reviews22 followers
October 22, 2013
This book ranks right up there with "The Worst Journey in the World", and that is saying one heck of a lot. I thought I would hate it. Anyone who is an admiral, I figured would be self-aggrandizing. No. This book is full of deep insight. Maybe born of despair, but that's how it goes sometimes. If you have ever been laid up for a winter alone, you might have some tiny fraction of an idea of what he experienced. As he said, he was reborn there in Antarctica that winter. I am not a fan of descriptive passages, but the ways he describes the aurora Australis are remarkable. Many times in reading this book I found myself holding my breath, or with tears running down my cheeks. I hate drama and overstatement...there was none of that. It was a remarkable book.
Profile Image for Maede.
496 reviews728 followers
March 22, 2017
امتیاز: ۳.۵

پسر بچه ای که از کودکی در رویای کشف قطب جنوب به سر می برد دریاسالاری میشه که در سال ۱۹۳۴ پنج ماه تمام رو در کلبه ای زیر سطح زمین، پوشیده از برف و یخ قطب جنوب به تنهایی سپری می کنه. در دمایی که حتی به منفی ۶۴ درجه زیر صفر میرسه و در عرض جغرافیایی ای که هیچ موجود زنده ی دیگری وجود نداره
کتاب شاید داستان خاص و مهیجی نیست. چند ماه روزمرگی ها و تلاش برای زندگی در شرایط سخت. وقتی حتی بازدمت یخ میزنه و جلوی پات به زمین می ریزه

اما تمام خوبی این کتاب این بود که نشون می داد انسان تا چه حد می تونه قوی باشه. روحیه این مرد فوق‌العاده بود!
همش فکر می کردم که اگر من با چنین مشکل کشنده و غیر منتظره ای رو به رو شده بودم حتما
می خوابیدم و منتظر مرگم می شدم

حس خوبی داشتم بعد از خواندن کتاب. دیدن اینکه یه انسان چقدر می تونه قدرتمند باشه و بر ذهنش تسلط داشته باشه، انگیزه میده که امکان رسیدن به چنین جایی هست
در اوج ناامیدی و در سخت ترین شرایط برای خودش می نویسه و به خودش یادآوری می کنه که:

ابنای بشر در این کاینات تنها نیستند. بنابراین زندگی هنوز ادامه دارد. در پایان هر هدفی می شود هماهنگی عالم را دید. سیارات منظومه شمسی با نظم خاصی حرکت می‌کنند و خورشید با هماهنگی به آنها نور می تاباند. تمام عالم دارای این هماهنگی است. باید راه را ادامه داد. باید صلح را به جهان هدیه داد.بنابراین من تنها نیستم


۹۶.۱.۲
Profile Image for María Greene F.
1,153 reviews243 followers
November 23, 2021
Al principio no me gustó tanto y pensaba darle tres, cuatro estrellas, pero después me fue envolviendo más y más, tanto así que cuando no lo leía NO PODÍA pensar en otra cosa. Se trata del caso real, narrado por él mismo, del almirante Byrd quien decide irse a pasar solo en una cabaña el invierno polar... en medio de la Antártica, OMG.

A mí que me gustan las aventuras lo encontré LA MAR DE EMOCIONANTE y, como también me gustan las historias de supervivencia, todavía más. El señor va allá a hacer experimentos científicos, específicamente a medir el clima, en la parte más inexplorada aun de la Antártica, 200 kilómetros más adentro del continente que la base previa y en verdad no tiene los elementos adecuados, o sea los tiene pero los de su época, 1934.

El libro es UNA GOZADA. Hay temas de logística, astronomía, ciencia, pero también hay mucho de vulnerabilidad, heroísmo, humanidad y hasta poesía. Al principio es un poco más fome porque demasiado dato técnico, pero después... es como si en la soledad de la reclusión se abriera la cáscara que separaba a ese hombre de sí mismo. Es sencillamente una cosa gloriosa de ver/leer.

Luego el nivel de adrenalina... uf. Aunque uno sabe el final - se sabe desde el principio, que tiene muchos problemas técnicos, se intoxica con los gases de la estufa y al final no se muere solo porque van a rescatarlo - el suspenso que se siente, sobre todo en la última parte, es de una intensidad que ya se la quisiera Hollywood. Literalmente hubo fragmentos que leí con la boca abierta.

Solo no me gustó tanto el epílogo, donde se describe la biografía del señor Byrd, porque lo pintan como a un figurín a quien solo le importa la fama y, además de que eso no digamos que cae muy bien, no fue en absoluto como se le vio en su propia narración. El libro está hecho de una mezcla entre extractos de su diario de vida personal y de lo que escribió más adelante retrospectivamente, y en ninguna parte se nota así de egocéntrico y odioso, sino que al contrario, como alguien más preocupado del bienestar de su equipo y de mantener el proyecto vigente que de su propia supervivencia. Sin embargo, aún si fuera cierto que era insoportable y que todo lo hizo por la fama, mejor que no lo dijeran, porque para qué sembrar odiosidades en los tiernos lectores, que ya lo quieren y ya se abanderaron con él.

Qué más puedo decir, RECOMENDADÍSIMO, aunque para la gente que le gustan este tipo de cosas, ciencia, aventuras extremas, etc, los otros quizá se aburran. Aunque a veces es un tanto repetitivo, al final a mí me conquistó de tal manera que no pude más que darle cinco estrellas. Y además me abrió aún más la curiosidad y aprendí cosas INCREÍBLES, como que la Antártica es el continente más alto del mundo porque, sobre la tierra que tiene, hay un promedio de DOS KILÓMETROS DE NIEVE ENCIMA. Esa nieve lo hace alto y también lo hace bajo, porque pesa tanto que ha empujado a la tierra bajo el nivel del mar y, si un día se descongela (ojalá en mucho tiempo más) va a quedar lleno de lagos y pozas y demases, suponiendo que las cosas sigan como siguen y que no haya chocado con un continente otro y hecho una playa tectónica aún más alta.

Además aprendí que, mientras el polo norte tiene en promedio 0 grados en verano y -40 en invierno... el sur tiene en promedio -20 en verano y -60 en invierno. UNA LOCURA pero pucha cuánto me gustaría también ir a mí, y qué cosa más increíble es la literatura que, en cierto modo, me ha permitido hacerlo. Me dan ganas de llorar de reverencia y agradecimiento.

O sea que me en can tó tó. Espero que haya quedado claro, jajaja.


Destaqué hartas citas, aunque al final dejé de hacerlo porque ya tenía demasiadas y estaba como contando ya el libro entero. Por eso mismo, las elegidas no siempre son necesariamente las mejores... Solo lamento no haber destacado una que me produjo especial ternura, que hablaba de cómo había una inteligencia subyacente en el universo, y de cómo el ser humano es tan natural en él como como los lagos, los pájaros o las estrellas (parafraseando).

Aquí van:

1.
De todas las diferentes ramas de la ciencia empleadas en una expedición polar establecida con rigor, para la gente normal ninguna tiene más valor que la metereología. El granjero cuyo sustento depende de los cultivos, las personas cuyos estómagos se llenan con esos cultivos, los especuladores que apuestan con ellos, el empresario cuyas fábricas dependen del poder adquisitivo del granjero, el marinero del mar y todos los demás, incluso el turista de vacaciones, todos tienen un interés vital en el tiempo. Sin embargo, pocos valoran la medida en que los polos participan en sus planes locales.


2.
7 de abril. Los seis meses de día se están acabando lentamente y la oscuridad desciende con suavidad. Incluso a mediodía el sol está a solo varias veces su tamaño en el horizonte. Está frío y apagado. Y su mayor brillo apenas da luz suficiente para crear una sombra. Una tristeza fúnebre reina en el cielo del ocaso. Es el tiempo entre la vida y la muerte. Así será cómo el último hombre verá al mundo cuando muera.


3. Hombres del siglo XX, jejeje. 😅

17 de abril. Un día crucial. ¡He encontrado el libro de cocina! Esta mañana estaba revisando una bolsa de tela hecha a mano llena de instrumentos de navegación y objetos varios cuando encontré el valioso libro. Mi grito de júbilo sonó tan alto que me avergoncé. Me di cuenta de que era el primer sonido que salía de mis labios en veinte días. Ningún libro arrojado a un náufrago se habría estudiado con mayor avidez.

Pero lamento decir que no resuelve todos los misterios de la cocina. No dice cómo hacer que las barritas de avena dejen de pegarse a la sartén, así que aproveché de mi cita por radio para preguntarle a Charlie Murphy si alguien del campamento sabía la respuesta. Expliqué que engrasar la sartén no servía.

La respuesta de Charlie llegó flotando. - Me has pillado - dijo -, no he cocinado nada en mi vida. Será mejor que cambies la dieta.


4.
Los primeros días de mayo no dieron ninguna pista sobre las calamidades por las que pasaría al final del mes. Al contrario, fueron de los días más maravillosos que había vivido. Las ventiscas desaparecieron, el frío se trasladó al Polo Sur y, opuesta a la luna en el cielo color negro carbón, la luz restante del sol difuso ardía como una hoguera.

Durante los seis primeros días, la temperatura media fue de -47,03 °C. La mayoría del tiempo estaba entre los cuarenta y cincuenta bajo cero. Apenas hubo viento. Y el silencio inundó la barrera. Nunca he experimentado un sosiego tan profundo. A veces, adormecía e hipnotizaba como una cascada o cualquier otro tranquilo sonido familiar. Otras veces se introducía en el subconsciente tan imperiosamente como un ruido repentino. Me hacía pensar en el vacío fatal que se da cuando el motor de un avión se detiene abruptamente durante un vuelo. (...) Después de un gran vendaval salí de un sueño profundo sin entender el porqué, hasta que comprendí que mi subconsciente se había inquietado por la calma abrupta.

Era un asunto extraño. Me sentía como si hubiera sido teletransportado a otro planeta o a otro horizonte geológico del que el hombre no tuviera conocimientos o recuerdos. Y al mismo tiempo pensaba que era algo muy bueno para mí; estaba aprendiendo algo sobre lo que los filósofos habían estado insistiendo tanto tiempo: que un hombre puede vivir intensamente sin necesitar montones de cosas. (...)

Llegué a entender lo que quería decir Thoreau con las palabras "Mi cuerpo es puro sentimiento". Había momentos en los que me sentía más vivo que en cualquier otro momento de mi vida. Liberado de las distracciones materiales, mis sentidos se desarrollaban en nuevas direcciones y los asuntos aleatorios o comunes del cielo, la tierra y el espíritu, que normalmente habría ignorado, si es que hubiera llegado a percibirlos, se volvían emocionantes y sublimes.


5.
5 de mayo. Ha sido un día precioso. Aunque el cielo no tenía casi nubes, una niebla intangible dominaba el aire, sin duda por los copos que caían. A mitad de la tarde desapareció y la barrera tenía al norte una extraña luz rosada, delicada como el color pastel. La línea del horizonte era una larga franja carmesí, más brillante que la sangre, y sobre ella ondeaba un océano amarillo pajizo cuyas costas eran el azul infinito de la noche.

Observé el cielo un buen rato con la conclusión de que tal belleza estaba reservada únicamente para los lugares distantes y peligrosos, y que la naturaleza tenía motivos para exigir sus propios sacrificios especiales a aquellos que estuvieran decididos a presenciarlos.


6.
Me tentaba la curiosidad de preguntar a Little America cómo iba la bolsa. Era un error terrible. De ninguna forma podría cambiar la situación y por lo tanto la preocupación era innecesaria. Antes de marcharme (de casa) había invertido mis fondos, con cuidado, me parecía a mí, con la esperanza de ganar algo de dinero y así reducir la deuda de la expedición. Esta pérdida adicional, en la cima de mis gastos siempre crecientes de la operación, podría ser desastrosa.

Bueno, aquí no necesito dinero. Lo más inteligente es cerrar mi mente a los molestos detalles del mundo.


7. Acá es cuando empieza a sentirse enfermo/solo.

Aquella noche la paz no llegó como debería haberlo hecho. Era como un reloj al que le habían dado cuerda para sonar en una casa vacía. Todo lo que hacía parecía sin acabar y vulgar, sin relación con los deseos indescifrables de mi mente. (...)

Aparté mi ánimo y lo estudié como si se tratase de uno más de los registros. ¿Había ocurrido algo malo durante el día? No, había sido un día agradable. A pesar de que la temperatura estaba por debajo de los menos cincuenta grados, trabajé mucho en el túnel de emergencia; había cenado bien con sopa de pollo, judías, patatas deshidratadas, espinacas y melocotones el almíbar. ¿Tenía motivo para estar preocupado por asuntos del norte del mundo? Al contrario, las noticias provenientes de la última cita de diario habían sido tranquilizadoras; mi familia estaba bien y no había sucedido nada malo en Little America [la base general en La Antártica, de donde venía]. La deuda era un problema pero estaba acostumbrado a ellas y podría pagar esta, igual que había hecho con las anteriores. ¿Mi estado físico? Excepto por el leve dolor en ojos y cabeza, estaba bien. De todas formas el dolor solo aparecía por la noche y se pasaba antes de dormirme.

A lo mejor el humo de la estufa era la causa. Si ese fuera el caso, sería mejor abrir la puerta estando la estufa encendida durante el día y pasar más tiempo fuera. La dieta también podría estar afectando, pero lo dudaba pues había tenido cuidado con las vitaminas.

"La explicación más probable", concluí esa noche en el diario, "es que el problema se halle en mi interior. Claramente, si puedo armonizar las diversas cosas dentro de mí que estén en conflicto y ajustarme mejor a este ambiente, estaré en paz. Puede ser que la monotonía, la oscuridad y la falta de vida sean demasiado para que yo las acepte a la vez.

No puedo aceptar eso como un hecho, puesto que ya he vivido aquí cuarenta y tres días, quedan todavía muchos meses y no serán diferentes del primero... Si quiero sobrevivir, o al menos mantener el equilibrio mental, tengo que controlar y dirigir mis pensamientos. Esto no tendría que ser complicado. Cualquier persona inteligente debiera ser capaz de encontrar medios de existencia dentro de sí misma...


8.
Un hombre puede aislarse a sí mismo de las costumbres y comodidades (deliberadamente, como he hecho yo, o accidentalmente, como un marinero de un barco naufragado) y obligar a su mente a olvidar. Pero el cuerpo no se adapta tan fácilmente, sigue recordando. La costumbre ha instalado en el centro de su ser un sistema de acciones y reacciones fisicoquímicas automáticas que insisten en su repetición.

Ahí es donde surge el conflicto. No creo que una persona pueda vivir sin sonidos, olores, voces y tacto igual que no puede vivir sin fósforo y calcio. Esto es, en general, a lo que me refería con el impreciso término de monotonía.


9.
Eso lo aprendí en la posición 08' sur. Era estimulante estar de pie en la barrera, contemplar el cielo y deleitarse en una belleza que no aspiraba poseer. En presencia de una belleza tal nos elevamos sobre la ignorancia natural. Y también era algo bueno rendirse a la ilusión de una incorporeidad intelectual, sentir cómo la mente viaja a través del espacio con tanta suavidad y felicidad como traspasa los objetos y sus reflejos.

El cuerpo permanecía quieto, pero la mente era libre. Podía recorrer el universo con la movilidad audaz de la máquina del tiempo de Wells. Los sentidos estaban aislados en una oscuridad muda, así que para eso estaba la mente, aunque una estaba inmóvil mientras la otra poseía el vuelo de un halcón (...) No buscaba nada, más bien recorría y se preguntaba acerca de un panorama de aspectos humanos: mi familia a la hora de cenar, el sonido de las voces en la habitación de abajo, la sensación fría de la lluvia.


10.
No obstante [la desazón], puse en práctica mi liturgia de una mente disciplinada. O quizá "discilplina" no sea exactamente la palabra adecuada, pues lo que hacía (o intentaba hacer) era centrar mi pensamiento en imágenes y conceptos sanos y constructivos y así expulsar los dañinos. Levanté un muro entre mi ser y el pasado en un esfuerzo por extraer cada gramo de distracción y creatividad inherente en mi entorno más cercano. Cada día experimentaba nuevos planes para aumentar el contenido de las horas.

"Un ambiente agradecido es un sustituto de la felicidad", según Santayana, pues nos estimula por fuera igual que las buenas obras nos estimulan desde dentro. Mi ambiente era intrínsecamente peligroso y complicado, pero encontré maneras de hacerlo agradable. Intenté cocinar más rápido, realizar las observaciones metereológicas y aurorales con más destreza y hacer las tareas rutinarias sistemáticamente. Mi objetivo era el dominio completo del momento vulnerable.


11.
Así en mayo, como en abril, nunca me faltó realmente nada que hacer. Con todo el silencio, la monotonía y el ritmo lento de la noche mi existencia era de todo menos estática. Era el inspector de las tormentas de nieve y la aurora, la guardia de noche y padre confesor de mí mismo.


12.
De vez en cuando, a lo largo del día, abría la puerta un par de centímetros o tres y cuando la sala se helaba tanto que me dolía la nariz, cerraba otra vez. Para hacer que los extremos de la cabaña resultaran más atractivos llamé a uno Palm Beach y al otro Malibú, pero con la puerta abierta rara vez estaba cómodo en ninguno de los dos sin llevar pantalones de piel.

Esa es la pura verdad. De hecho, en más de una ocasión, el vaso de agua que colocaba al lado del pulsador al comenzar la sesión de radio estaba cubierto de hielo antes de que me diera tiempo a beber.


Ya, tengo como diez citas más así que lo dejo hasta aquí porque no tengo más tiempo para teclear, jajaja. TODAS INCREÍBLES. Mientras más avanzado está el libro, mejor se pone así que ya pueden imaginar de qué se pierden. Todo un hallazgo para mí <3

PD: Al final de la estadía,el frío - y relativos - se pone mucho pero MUCHO peor. Hablo de las cuatro paredes de la cabaña (internas) cubiertas de hielo. Este hombre hoy ganaría todos los realitys de supervivencia.
Profile Image for Megan.
1,086 reviews80 followers
January 13, 2021
Even though I've been obsessed with cold places for as long as I can remember and have long wanted to visit Antarctica, this book added fuel to that fire, setting my imagination soaring with visions of white expanses and the dangerous era of exploration. This is a fantastic and exciting read. I like to re-read it on warm days in the summer when it's too hot and imagining being alone at South Pole cools me down, or even in blustery wintry days when it's nice to be reminded that, hey, it could be worse. I also have a really nice hardcover first edition of this that I cherish. It has maps of the ice shelves as its endpapers.
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Update. I "re-read" this in 2020. I was going through a big "let's read every book about loneliness you can find" glut and started with one I already knew. I usually delight in the cold weather descriptions. But this year I just wasn't feeling it - maybe because I wasn't reading it at the height of summer in horrid heat - and I confess my re-read barely got me like 3/5 of the way through. I'll for sure re-read this for real again someday.
Profile Image for Karen.
80 reviews6 followers
October 4, 2017
Couldn't put this down. He does a great job of recreating his experience at the South Pole. Also was quite glad I read the "Afterword" only after finishing the book.
Profile Image for Daniel.
93 reviews60 followers
March 8, 2012
Alone: The Classic Polar Adventure is the story of famed explorer Richard Byrd's famous (or infamous) solitary sojourn at the bottom of the world - ably, if somewhat reluctantly, told by Byrd himself. It is not a tell of adventure so much as survival, as the peaceful and scientific adventure Byrd had anticipated all too quickly became a months-long fight for survival in the most inhospitable of places. Only a small shack with dangerously faulty ventilation stood between Byrd and the elements during the continually dark days of the winter of 1934. The temperature routinely hit 60 degrees below zero and rarely wandered upwards of twenty below, as Byrd - laid low by carbon monoxide poisoning - fought a daily battle to survive a situation that would have killed almost any other man.

Over the years, much has been made of Admiral Byrd's decision to singly man a small meteorological station far south of the main Antarctic base of Little America on the Ross Ice Shelf. Byrd first envisioned a three-man crew (he thought two men stuck together that long would end up killing each other during the long winter months without a third person present to break the monotony), but it seems pretty clear from this account that he yearned to do the job alone. Certainly, there is something to be said for the perfect peace and introspection he expected to find there, but it seems equally clear that Byrd, having already achieved great fame with past adventures at the North and South Poles, sought the attention and acclaim that would come with this mission. Whatever his reasons, however, it was unarguably a most daring and brave decision - as if the living conditions were not difficult enough, he knew that no help would be forthcoming if something went wrong.

Byrd's daily tasks were to man the meteorological equipment, take measurements, and make observations from his position. This was no small job given the damaging effects that the cold had on everything, but Byrd's biggest job was to stay alive. Unfortunately, his greatest ally in that struggle - the stove - became his greatest enemy. Several weeks into the mission, Byrd began suffering the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. Unable to solve the ventilation problems responsible for the danger, he had no choice but to run the stove as little as possible. Often close to death, even his best of days left him far too weak to accomplish more than the most essential of tasks. To his credit, he did the best he could to hide his condition from his men at Little America, knowing full well that any rescue attempt made on their part during those winter months would be incredibly dangerous.

This was not a book that Richard Byrd was eager to write, for it meant revealing to the world the vulnerable and perhaps foolish side of a man who was already legendary for his daring exploits. To his credit, however, he certainly seems to have held nothing back, especially in regard to the sufferings he endured on this mission. While Byrd's motives - and even some of his accomplishments - have come into question over the years, even as his fame has diminished, Alone: The Classic Polar Adventure reveals this man to be one of the last great adventurers of history, a man whose raw courage and unmatched strength is best revealed in the depths of his weakest moments.
Profile Image for Lara.
4,213 reviews346 followers
January 15, 2018
Having just read another book in which Byrd features somewhat negatively, I sort of wasn't expecting to connect with him quite like I did in this one. I've read a lot of polar memoirs/expedition diaries, etc., and I guess I was expecting something along those lines--somewhat dry, somewhat self-congratulatory while also somewhat excessively modest. I was surprised by the relaxed, casual style at first, having mostly read accounts by stiff-upper-lip British naval officers and the like, and the beginning has the feel of an adventure novel in some ways. Honestly, I should have anticipated that, since Byrd was definitely well aware of his public image as a pioneering hero of exploration. But what really got me are his moments of quiet, lyrical beauty in describing the Antarctic, the interminable nights, the cold, and his physical and mental states during his months alone in a hut where his survival is dependent upon the very things that will kill him if he doesn't stay on top of the situation. This guy could write!

I really appreciated the afterword as well, about who Admiral Byrd was as a man, and how very conflicted and fallible and human he was. I find it really interesting how the public perception of many of the heroes of this time period and their (sometimes dubious) accomplishments has changed over time. And the idea that this man, who made so much of his reputation through aviation, may actually have been terrified of flying, and thus the drinking, actually impresses me far more than the idea that he was just naturally 100% awesome.

Anyway you look at it, this solo adventure in sometimes -80° degree temps with an injured arm and severe carbon monoxide poisoning from the stove and lantern while still attempting to take various weather readings and make contact with the rest of the party 100 miles away through morse code and a faulty radio when barely able to function, while also trying not to let them know how bad the situation is to keep them from attempting an ill-advised rescue, is pretty badass. I would probably have died on like, day 5.

If you're a fan of survival, adventure, or explorations stories, you pretty much can't go wrong with this one.
Profile Image for Jim George.
723 reviews20 followers
October 15, 2012
Admiral Richard E. Byrd single handedly manned a weather base in the Antarctic winter night of 1934. His scientific expedition came close to costing him his life, his men at Base Camp made a heroic trip to rescue him. The book is a composite from his own personal diary, and an account of the expedition from Base Camp records. This expedition was a very brave undertaking in weather which at times resembled a winter-hurricane, with temperatures which dipped to an all time low of minus 82 degrees! There is a part in the book where Admiral Byrd comes to a realization and conclusion about the cosmos, that I particularly like; What came out of the silence, a gentle rhythm, the strain of a perfect chord, the music of the spheres, perhaps. In that instant I could feel no doubt of man's oneness with the universe. The rhythm was too orderly, too harmonious, to be a product of blind chance. The universe was a cosmos, not a chaos; man was as rightfully a part of that cosmos as the day and the night. For those who seek it, there is an inexhaustible evidence of an all pervading Intelligence. For untold ages man has felt an awareness of that Intelligence. Belief in it is the one point where all religions agree. It has been called by many names. Many call it God.
Profile Image for Amy.
331 reviews11 followers
October 17, 2017
3.5?

As a kid, I loved all those books like "My Side of the Mountain" -- stories of people going off into the wilderness and hacking it.

The descriptions of Antarctica are beautiful and evocative (all the snow, and the aurora, and light), and I HATE the cold. This made me feel kind of cold, heh.

There's not much of a story -- it really just is his experience being down there and (spoiler) suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning, but a fast and enjoyable read.
Profile Image for Mark.
276 reviews7 followers
January 30, 2022
This is inspiring, informative, and exciting. Of course, we don't quite know how much of it is true, but that can be part of the fun.
Profile Image for Johannes Lilover.
123 reviews13 followers
June 17, 2022
Yes yes, very classic polar adventure of dying and being stupid

Mdea miks ma seda lugesin
Profile Image for corin.
148 reviews1 follower
July 29, 2024
he’s going to wake up in the morning and it will be dark. he will take his morning measurements and it’ll probably be dark. he will go on a short walk in the dark before retiring to his dark cabin for the afternoon during which the sun will never rise (dark). when he goes to complete his tasks for the day that evening it will also be dark and then he will go to sleep that night (in darkness).

additionally it is cold and windy also. don’t forget there’s no signs of life. thank god the aurora borealis exists or this book would be even more depressing. that’s not really a complaint, it’s kind of a given that this book will be a downer due to the fact that it outlines one man’s solo six month arctic expedition during which he has little to no contact with any other living things not even a spider or fruit fly he didn’t even bring a houseplant and also there’s never any sunshine because it’s the arctic so he’s doing his best but it would get old if he didn’t give beautifully detailed descriptions of the northern lights each time he sees them so i quite appreciate that

mr richard byrd sure does think very highly of himself; it’s interesting to see how this book is essentially an accidental yet very revealing character study and commentary on the dangers of prioritizing your pride.

he has entertaining and witty prose but i fear his self-deprecation comes off as less than genuine- akin to a tween girl fishing for a compliment. if i met this man in real life i know i’d hate him but i can also acknowledge he is 100 billion times stronger than i will ever be and he’s also a pretty good writer.

i like his book and appreciate his occasional self-awareness and forthcoming nature but in modern times he would probably be an insufferable film bro and i just can’t forgive that.
anyway this is an entertaining book i love a good survival story even though this one is more depressing than action packed because it’s just a guy sitting in a hut going insane from carbon monoxide and facing inevitable death
Profile Image for Cullen Kester.
3 reviews
February 7, 2018
Dedication is the name of the game here. Byrd survives at a weather station in the Antarctic alone. Others have written more fleshed out reviews so I won't go too crazy with this one. Byrd's writing had me nodding at points in agreement as he describes thoughts I have had while working on projects I thought I could do alone. He sets out with a simple goal, to collect weather data in Antarctica, but an unexpected event causes him major setbacks. Byrd, being a man of his time and dedicated to the mission and his men, attempts to deal with the problem by himself. This book has definitely earned the right to have a hard copy on my bookshelves.
Profile Image for Jim Talbott.
251 reviews8 followers
February 6, 2012
This book is an incredible page turner. Admiral Byrd spends from late March to early August (Antarctic winter) by himself in a hut about 150 miles from the Antarctic coast. He gets relatively carbon monoxide poisoning about 2 months before anyone can get in to help him, and he has to survive, using the stove that poisoned him as well as trying to hide his infirmity from "Little America," the base on the Antarctic coast. Not only is the work of survival gripping, his descriptions of the natural world are truly breath taking.
Profile Image for Simon.
22 reviews29 followers
April 12, 2023
This is the account of a man trapped in a cabin for months with little to do except take weather readings, organise his environment and, when things end up going very wrong for him, trying to stay alive. I dare say a lot of people won't enjoy it or find it as compelling as I did, but it was the insight into what life is like living in such extreme, inhospitable conditions as well as the human drama that kept me interested. The book is also helped significantly by the eloquence and insight with which Richard Byrd writes.
Profile Image for April Berry.
87 reviews2 followers
August 5, 2019
I don't know why it was difficult for me to get through this. A different kind of read for me, but I really enjoyed learning about Richard E Byrd's life for several months on the south pole. What a brave team he had at "Little America".
Profile Image for Abdullah Almuslem.
493 reviews50 followers
August 15, 2025
In 1933, Richard Byrd decided to stay in isolation at a small Antarctic station called Advance Base, where he spent five months alone. The public goal was to conduct meteorological observations, but Byrd also had a personal mission, which he described in his book:

“I wanted something more than just privacy in the geographical sense. I wanted to sink roots into some replenishing philosophy. And so it occurred to me, as the situation surrounding Advance Base evolved, that here was the opportunity. Out there on the South Polar barrier, in cold and darkness as complete as that of the Pleistocene, I should have time to catch up, to study and think and listen to the phonograph; and, for maybe seven months, remote from all but the simplest distractions, I should be able to live exactly as I chose, obedient to no necessities but those imposed by wind and night and cold, and to no man's laws but my own.”

However, things did not go as planned. Byrd was poisoned by carbon monoxide from a faulty stove, and his health deteriorated rapidly. Trapped between physical agony and mental delusions, he maintained limited communication via Morse code but never asked for help. His team, stationed nearly 200 miles away, grew suspicious due to his silence and eventually launched a dangerous rescue mission. After multiple attempts, they reached him, only to find him in critical condition.

This is the story in a nutshell. One thing I really liked is the philosophical reflection Byrd explored during his isolation. The endless winter darkness, the absence of light, and the total lack of human contact led him to think about morality, human existence, and life’s purpose. Even as his health declined, he continued writing in his diary beautiful thoughts in his diary. I suppose such extreme isolation fosters deep philosophical thinking.

I enjoyed the book and I recommend it for those who like such books.

Few highlights from the Book:

You might think that a man whose life carries him into remote places would have no special need for quietude. Whoever thinks that has little knowledge of expeditions. Most of the time they move in fearful congestion and uproar, and always under the lash of time. Nor will they ever be different, so long as explorers are not rich men and so long as exploration itself deals with uncertainties.

No man can hope to be completely free who lingers within reach of familiar habits and urgencies.

It's not getting to the pole that counts. It's what you learn of scientific value on the way. Plus the fact that you get there and back without being killed.

What people think about you is not supposed to matter much, so long as you yourself know where the truth lies.

Solitude is an excellent laboratory in which to observe the extent to which manners and habits are conditioned by others.

Where there is no growth or change outside, men are driven deeper and deeper inside themselves for materials of replenishment.

Even a demanding leadership can ask only so much of flesh and blood.

A meal eaten alone and in silence is no pleasure. So I fell into the habit of reading while I ate. In that way I can lose myself completely for a time. The days I don't read I feel like a barbarian brooding over a chunk of meat.

At the end only two things really matter to a man, regardless of who he is; and they are the affection and understanding of his family. Anything and everything else he creates are insubstantial; they are ships given over to the mercy of the winds and tides of prejudice. But the family is an everlasting anchorage, a quiet harbor where a man's ships can be left to swing to the moorings of pride and loyalty.

Profile Image for Naomi.
798 reviews6 followers
July 18, 2025
“Nothing whatever, except one man’s desire to know that kind of experience to the full, to be by himself for a while and to taste peace and quiet and solitude long enough to find out how good they really are.” (Is the idea behind Byrd spending a winter alone in Antarctica in 1933.) This book is both bananas & a beautifully written account of self-isolation, grappling with the infinite, & fighting depression. Grudgingly admire. Podcast bros screaming about manliness wish they had a fraction of this man’s chutzpah (they should all go try it (under same conditions/gear), if they die, they die 🤷🏼‍♀️).
Note that they knew the value of science (masks work!) and meteorological data for better forecasts even then (something the US is currently, stupidly, against). The minute he described the heating/ventilation setup it was a big yikes (I work in health & safety). Really enjoyed this account of madness a lot more than I thought I would. We could all work on, as he put it - attending to our business.

“…It is surprising, approaching the final enlightenment, how little one really has to know or feel sure about.”

“…the different pulls that rise inevitably to deter the man who tries something out of the ordinary.”

“This is the way the world will look to the last man when it dies.”

“…Brain-cracking loneliness.”
Profile Image for LibraryCin.
2,653 reviews59 followers
May 9, 2020
In 1934, the author headed to Antarctica to spend a few months on his own inland (while people he was working with were a ways away, and they were in radio contact on specific days/times), while taking weather readings at various times throughout the days. They had built him an underground shelter to live in. In June, as it got colder outside, things started to get dicey for the author. This book includes his memories, as well as some excerpts from his diary while there.

It took a little bit to get going, as I wasn’t as interested in the technology in how they built his shelter and such, but once it was built and the rest of the crew left Byrd alone, it got much more interesting. The cold, oh, the cold! Described very well. (Of course, it’s relative when anywhere from 0 to -30F was “warm”! The coldest day was -83F) He was there over winter, so between April and October (this book covers April through August when he was on his own). It read in kind of a conversational tone, which I liked.
Profile Image for Pam.
317 reviews8 followers
March 26, 2018
A beautifully written scary-as-can-be real life experience in Anartica. In 1934, Admital Byrd was truly alone, with help a mind-numbing 80-mile trek across the nothingness of Antarctica in the -50 degree darkness of winter. Byrd writes with knowledge, honesty and humility as he tells of his experience. Refreshingly free from self-agrandizing egoticism. I was simultaneously reading Alone and The Stranger in the Woods by Michael Finkel. And the Maine hermit is nothing more than a kid playing in a backyard fort compared to Byrd's Advance Camp.
Profile Image for Carolyn Parker.
116 reviews
May 1, 2019
I read the condensed version of this book and may look for the original. It was pretty non-stop hold-your-breath. Byrd spent a winter alone at a weather station near the South Pole and had many harrowing adventures that he lived to tell. Amazing!
Profile Image for Lou.
337 reviews4 followers
April 23, 2020
Algunos han aprovechado de manera extraordinaria estas últimas semanas para leer como si realmente se fuese acabar el mundo. Esperemos que la pandemia de Covid 19 no lo concrete, y estar en casa sea sólo el pretexto para sus muchas lecturas.
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Para otros ha sido de verdad una obra titánica concentrarse para seguir los hilos de cualquier texto. Entre ellos me cuento yo. Hubo que superar ansiedad, aburrimiento, home office y ataques de pánico por entrar en la 3 fase de la epidemia, para en algún momento tener la cabeza dispuesta a leer.
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Leer un texto como éste. Un hombre que, por decisión propia, decide ir solo a la Base Avanzada de la expedición de la Antártida y atravesar ahí un encierro en solitario, como una cuarentena autoimpuesta en la que no sólo había que lidiar con el frío, la enfermedad o las complicaciones de un equipo material que se congelaba a cualquier provocación climática.
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Como para todo hombre que vive solo, además en condiciones extremas, encerrado y con muy pocas posibilidades de dispersión, el principal obstáculo a vencer es la mente.
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No es casual haber leído este texto en tiempos de cuarentena. Lo elegí para adentrarme en mentes que, por voluntad, se adentran en las adversidades y salen victoriosos con la resiliencia "intacta".
Y para leer frases como "Aquí un hombre no necesita nada del mundo, por lo menos no del mundo en un concepto ordinario, ni siquiera su seguridad habitual".
Una frase que hoy en día también para nosotros a tenido que ser fuerte elección. Quedarse en casa no es nada fácil, y aunque el mundo se reduce, no queda más que elegir de éste lo esencial.
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Y quizá, como todos nosotros, Richar Byrd también consideró vivir más intensamente después de la vida: "He estado pensando en todas las cosas nuevas que voy a hacer y en las cosas anteriores que voy a hacer de forma distinta, si es que consigo salir de aquí en algún momento.
Profile Image for Amy Rugg.
46 reviews
February 24, 2022
From the survival experience and the gripping worry, the poetic description of a beautiful antarctic world I had never imagined, put together with a mans deep inner insights going beyond what most will ever experience in this lifetime, this is now a treasured book to me. When reading it my son and I felt it took awhile to read. I was reading it pretty feverishly as I was not bored and it is very compelling, but you experience much of the drudgery and similar problems he has alongside him again and again. But I highly recommend it if your interested in the above mentioned things. This is one of the best books I have ever read and its given me a new hope and desire to search for more treasured books. As a bonus I also became more interested in weather prediction and learned a lot from the book, as well as doing some further research, being now very interested in the subject.
1,090 reviews73 followers
April 6, 2010
This account of six months that the explorer, Richard Byrd, spent alone in minus 60 degree weather in Antarctica was gripping. Obviously, the man survived to tell his story, but he was lucky. Even though he thought he was well equipped and capable of dealing with every contingency, happenings occurred that demonstrated his frailty and even hubris in thinking, erroneously, that he had thought of everything He was lucky to have survived. Reading this account made me think of Jack London's great short story,"To Build A Fire" where events proved to be fatal to another man who was "alone" under extreme conditions.
Profile Image for James Henderson.
2,225 reviews159 followers
May 31, 2017
Although less well known than his famous flight over the North Pole, Admiral Richard E. Byrd’s adventures in Antarctica are just as remarkable. This account highlights the solitude, the cold, above all the personal thoughts of a man who desired to seek a quiet place away from the "hullabaloo". This is a fascinating account of man in nature with only his solitary self to sustain him. The journey he takes is both physical and spiritual and fascinating to this reader. His dreams sustained him in these journeys and he bequeathed them to his readers as inspiration.
Profile Image for Scottsdale Public Library.
3,530 reviews477 followers
Read
July 13, 2017
Although Admiral Byrd was no stranger to peril, his dangerous experiment to spend six bleak winter months completely alone at the bottom of the world was nearly his last. His plan to gather weather data and fully explore the idea of unreachable solitude began to disintegrate into paranoia, sickness, and the fear that he would die before rescue. Byrd's moment-by-moment account and his eventual discovery of the cause of his distress make for a nail-biting true life chronicle. - Chris H.
Profile Image for Colleen.
14 reviews3 followers
April 7, 2019
This is more of a survival story than a "polar adventure", as most of it takes place in a shack at the South Pole. Byrd wrote this book in 1938--four years after surviving several months of solitary research in 60-80 degrees below zero in Antarctica. It is beautifully written and descriptive. The entire time, he was being slowly poisoned by carbon monoxide from a faulty stove, but had to run it anyway so he wouldn't freeze to death. Based on his own diaries, this is a really good story of the mental and physical challenges he had to endure.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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