For readers of Karen Russell, Maggie Shipstead, and Eowyn Ivey, an exuberant, highly imaginative epic about a family that settles, against all odds, in the far reaches of the Arctic and the unexpected industry that keeps them afloat for generations.
In the far reaches of the Territory of the Arctic, the Spahr family lives on a fjord accessible only by kayak and float plane, in a landscape rapidly changing as glaciers melt and sea levels rise. Their home is Jubilation House, aptly they are a family of free spirit and full-hearted love, descendants of the homesteaders who came to this place in a reckless scheme to civilize the Glacial Front. They live off the grid in a converted fisherman's shack, selling pickled octopus and sea crops, barely scraping by. With every day, their livelihood seems ever more precarious.
Then one of their few neighbors dredges up a centuries-old piano, a vestige from the original homesteading expedition, when every family was required to haul a six-hundred-pound instrument as a sign of mannerly society—almost none made it to their final destination. Now, this intricately carved beauty has emerged, perfectly preserved from the frigid Arctic waters, and the antique treasure becomes a priceless collectors’ item. A new economic boom seizes the territory—piano hunting—and the Spahrs throw themselves into the quest with full-throated aplomb. But the costs of their possible salvation soon begin to mount.
The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos travels through generations, backward to the Spahrs’ homesteader origins and forward to their descendants, eccentrics and optimists all. In a voice as buoyant and vibrant as the characters themselves, Kendra Langford Shaw gives us an unforgettable and inventive ode to the abiding love of family and pull of home, even as the home we love becomes ever more challenging to inhabit.
ambitny pomysł – arktyczna saga o rodzinie, zatopionych fortepianach i topniejącym świecie, gdzie przeszłość dosłownie wynurza się spod lodu
momentami to działa: klimat, język, wszystkie szczegóły tej osobliwej codzienności. tylko że im dalej, tym bardziej wszystko się rozpada – fabuła tonie w melodramacie (zaczęło mocno zajeżdżać kristin hannah), logika w chaosie (to przyszłość? alternatywna rzeczywistość? czy prawa fizyki istnieją?), a świat w jakiejś dziwnej kolonialnej amnezji (kompletny brak świadomości, że „native settlers” to oksymoron, zwłaszcza w amerykańskim kontekście)
potencjał ogromny, ale potrzebny byłby konkretny i nieustraszony redaktor
I was drawn to this book because of the quirky concept of hunting pianos in the arctic. Usually I stray away from multi-generational novels but this one was an absolute delicacy. I loved the build-up of Arctic culture, as it reminded me a lot of Little House on the Prairie meets Hillbilly Elegy meets—obviously—the Arctic. Farming sea crops and raising octopus as livestock was an immersive experience. And of course, every character having semi-aquatic lifestyles was beautifully rendered across the page. Each character was created with such care, it was hard to let them go, especially when tragedy struck. I loved the pianofortes as a through line throughout each generation—from the founders who brought them to the descendants who hunted, restored, and sold them. I will be keeping an eye out for more from this author.
Because I read so many Arctic expedition books, I'm uniquely interested in any book that references this area of the world. So imagine my surprise when I was halfheartedly browsing NetGalley and found a fiction book about a homesteading family in the Arctic making a living by selling piano parts, a quirky concept right my my wheelhouse. I wasn't quite sure what I was getting into, especially since generational family dramas aren't usually my cup of tea, but I came away from this book incredibly impressed with what I read.
The Spahr family has been homesteading off the grid in the Arctic since their ancestor, Moose, was dragged there reluctantly by his father wanting a better (read: more independent) life for them. At the time, cheap, productive land was promised to anyone willing to make the journey to claim it--provided you're willing to lug an upright piano along. The thinking was a piano meant civility, creativity, a mark of worth, so any family wanting to make this journey to create what was envisioned as an artistic community of like-minded people needed to purchase one and bring it along. So part of this book covers Moose, his family, and the others in their caravan north, and his trials along the way. The other part of this book centers around Milda, Finlay, Temperance, and their parents, descendants of Moose, scratching out a living from Jubilation House, their shelter in the Arctic. While they make a meagre living from what they harvest (octopus, kelp, various plants), What really sets their family on its fateful trajectory is the discovery of a discarded piano. The bulk of this book covers the various family members and how they approach this new industry of the Arctic, the reclamation of piano parts.
I'm gonna save you a Google, because the concept of the book was just plausible enough to make me wonder if the lugging of a piano to the Arctic was an actual thing in history. It is not, as best I can tell.
I don't normally get fully into generational dramas, but something about the Spahr family really had me interested to see how the family ended up. This story is told through chapters involving Moose (the Spahrs' ancestor), and then chapters involving various POVs from the Spahrs and (later) other families that survived. Moose's story is told fragmentally, so you don't get his conclusion until the end of the book, but I appreciated seeing various "clues" along the way from later on.
I got really invested in Milda and Finlay specifically, because (mild character motivations here) . I liked Moose's POV as well, as we get to know the various families that play a part later in the book. I felt really bad for him, swept up as he was by a father who thought he knew best. I wasn't quite as in love with the later POVs, they felt not quite as established as the Spahrs, but I appreciated that they carried the story along to its end and had a purpose.
Really enjoyed this book. Tugs at the heartstrings something terrible as it goes along (MAJOR PLOT SPOILER: ), well written, just a unique story I wasn't sure what to expect going in.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me a free eBook in exchange for an honest review.
LOVE the concept of this book, didn't totally love the execution. It's set in the Arctic, and it follows the Spahr family, who live largely off the grid. Their son Finley is obsessed with hunting for lost pianos, which were brought to the Arctic by the land's original settlers because of a government incentive intended to promote art in the newly settled society. Since the pianos are artifacts of a bygone era, they can fetch a decent price from collectors/museums that are willing to buy them. When Finley and his sisters' mother dies, and they can no longer rely on the income from the charters she used to take tourists on in her plane, finding these pianos becomes even more crucial.
The timeline of the book jumps a bit all over the place - we follow the Spahrs when their mom is alive, and later in the future when she is no longer with them. We also jump back in time to learn about the Spahr's homesteading ancestor Moose, who was part of the original expeditions into the Arctic with the famous pianos.
Overall, I thought this was a cool concept, and the detailed imagery really created a vivid setting. Yet, I often felt that it was TOO detailed. I didn't know a lot of the words related to sailing and boats and planes and plants and animals, and sometimes I felt like basic actions were described in weirdly convoluted ways. I also felt that the focus on the setting really took away from the characters. There were multiple deaths in this book, and I hardly felt a thing when any of them occurred.
Maybe the "point" of the story wasn't about the characters. But if that's so, I'm not really sure what the alternative point was. So: great writing, somewhat mediocre story in my opinion. But a cool and unique concept! It might really work for others.
Thanks to Pantheon Books for the gifted copy. All opinions below are my own.
This story follows multiple generations of a family in the Arctic as they struggle to find their place and survive in a harsh world. The modern story follows three siblings as they live in their stilted house in fjord accessible only by plane and kayak. They search the landscape for abandoned pianos worth big money based on their parts. Their ancestor Moose, came to this challenging place as a young child with his mother and stepfather hauling their piano. Pianos were required of family's claiming land to prove they were "civilized" so great lengths were taken to move the beheamoth's through the rough terrain ultimately leading to them being abandoned. We get those two timelines and a future one filled with quirky antics, atmospheric descriptions of arctic life and some very hard lessons about survival and grief.
I wanted to love this one more than I did. Once I was over the wonder of it all, it didn't have nearly enough plot for me. Also, I didn't really resonate with any of the characters. It might have been a me thing more than it being an unreadable book but it just felt really meandering at times.
The publisher’s description of this book states that it is for fans of Karen Russell. Since I have read and enjoyed two of Russell’s books, I decided to give it a try. Kendra Langford Shaw does indeed treat the human condition similarly to the way Russel does. The storyline and preposterous situations also remind me of Russel. The novel begins with the introduction of a contemporary family living off the grid in the remote Territory of the Arctic. Finley, nine-year-old son of Viola and Frye Spahr, almost drowns while trying to retrieve a piano from Disillusionment Bay. Early in the novel, Viola, the pilot of the floatplane that provides income for the family, dies and leaves her husband and three children, Finley, Milda, and Temperance, to care for each other as well as their sinking home and their octopuses, sea lions, and other local resources used for food and trade.
Little makes sense until we learn that the first settlers of the area, who came with promises of land guaranteed by the Homestead Act, traveled with their valuable pianos. The piano represents the cultural refinement that homesteaders had hoped to bring to their new homes. Pianos can also represent the range of human emotions: joy, sorrow, hope, and more, with a variety of dynamics, tempos, pitches, and intensities. The pianos also served as storage areas and beds, and they survived for years in the frigid waters of the Arctic. Shaw is great at combining historical events, such as the Homestead Act, with creative situations, like transporting pianos as they blaze paths across arctic lands. Her story covers multiple generations of families who have hopes and aspirations for a better life while navigating changing landscapes, past, present, and future.
Besides the prominent storylines, which include the perspectives of the early settlers, Shaw masterfully invites the reader to examine human nature and the motivations behind the basic hunter-gatherer disposition, possibly the very fabric of humanity. There is a line in the book that supposes that Old Testament scribes were perhaps the earliest homesteaders. One storyline focuses more on the first settlers and their primal search for the promised land. The reader can sympathize with the pain of a boy named Moose as he trudges along, trying to meet the expectations of the men on the journey, as they face increasingly treacherous terrain. There are plenty of religious allusions, and a significant element of the narrative centers on a family building a church, preaching, and then welcoming back a prodigal brother. And of course, the contemporary family and its descendants are choosing to hunt abalone, kelp, and octopuses for nourishment.
Shaw employs much symbolism in the names she gives to the characters, the land, and, of course, the pianos. Two of the fortepianos (pianos made before 1830) were named Napoleon and Ahab—names after two extraordinarily ambitious characters, one real and one fictional, whose hubris leads to tragedy. There is a Mayflower family choir in the religious storyline, as well as the Resurrection Mountains and Jubilation House. The music metaphors are also sprinkled throughout the text. Music would elevate the land to a homeland worth having, and there was a melody of routine and a symphony of life. Of course, all of this aligns with the overarching message of climate change, rising tides, and rapid environmental change. The multiple generations of family members are painfully aware that the earth is changing before their eyes, and they react differently to the values of nature, family, and subsistence. See my reviews at https://quipsandquotes.net/2025/11/29...
This book kept confounding my expectations, pulling me deeper and deeper into the overlapping stories.
It opens with Milda, a 12-year-old girl who has hopes of leaving the Arctic for life on "the continent." Ah, I thought, I know what this book will be about: a coming of age story that is set against the sweep of the frozen North. Nope, or not exactly.
Well, perhaps it is the story of idealistic homesteaders who brave the elements to carve out lives against the backdrop of extraordinary grandeur, nope or not exactly.
What this is is a story of the intricate connectedness of relationships and how individual decisions and actions affect families both in the generation we are born into and in the generations to come.
The setting is the Arctic – not quite the Alaska of our time and our world, but a distillation of the north. The level of detail, made up of the piling up of day-to-day life, builds the world of each character, whether that world is in the past or the future. It is the daily routines and rituals that make the setting eternal, even as rising waters will change it forever.
Just as the setting is not quite our world, time shifts back-and-forth, internally defined, without any external context. “Four years after they found the letter” or "200 years after the great flood" (neither of these are quotes, just examples), without reference to the outside world. The people shift and change, the physical world shifts and changes, what is constant is the connections between people, between their stories, between their memories and between their loss.
The narrative tone is dispassionate. Terrible things happen, but there’s an undercurrent of moving onto the next thing. The language is descriptive, not florid. I found that appropriate to the overall story as without that stoicism, the difficulties of daily survival would be devastating. There are two first person POVs that bracket the story. The rest of the narration is close third person omniscient, not narration by a named character.
The characters' names reinforce the sense that this is like our world, but is not quite our world: Hullulla, Unamelia, Milda are unusual, if not invented by the author. The last names are as well: Huntmoon, Bloomer, Mayflower.
I did find it odd that daily tides were not discussed. I live near a northern coast with large tides. The constant movement of water is the background to life. The water is always changing level. I did find it odd that in this book, which is so constrained by water, 'tide' and 'tides' refer not to the twice daily highs and lows with which I’m familiar, but storm tides or rising water overall only. There’s a background thrum to tidal motion that I didn’t feel while reading this book. Instead, there’s the rising water that threatens life in the fjords, there’s the open water of the ocean and there’s the rushing water of storm-driven rivers, but there is not the sense of things revealed by a 20 or 30 foot daily tide
Overall extremely well done, immersive, and full of the mysteries of daily life. I particularly liked how things that had importance in the past were found in the future, stripped of their previous context, but given new importance by the finder. I was a little disappointed that while Moose's "homesteader journals" are mentioned, there’s no mention of what they are like, of what information they contain. But, in a world where the links between past generations and present are mute relics, perhaps that's just another mystery.
Thank you to NetGalley, which provided an ARC of this book.
I received an advance copy of this book at the Penguin Random House booth at Emerald City Comic Con. Thanks to PRH for being there and to ECCC for having them.
I really had no idea exactly what to expect from this one. The description and title evoke a sort of cozy whimsy which isn't always my thing (sometimes whimsy is a bit too... whimsical and overdone). I had visions of the pianos being living things that actually attacked people. In reality, the book was much more than that and I ended up really enjoying it, although I also find it somewhat difficult to describe.
At its heart, this is the story of a few different generations of a single family living in an alternate reality version of the Arctic (in this scenario, the Arctic Territory was opened to settlers in what seems to be the 1800s or so, and several dozen families came north from what is only called 'the continent' looking for a new start or opportunity; this whole thing is reminiscent of the Oregon Trail, or any sort of pioneer spirit sort of situation, although the author is able to strip it of its less savory 'sweeping out the natives' connotations by making it clear that the natives still own rights to most of the land and are just allowing a sort of easement along the trail to allow the settlers to come through to their new plots).
One of the requirements for the settlers coming north was to bring a piano with them. They were supposedly "bringing civilized society" north, and whatever group was luring them up there with promises of opportunity and prosperity apparently equated "music" with "civilized society" and thought pianos (probably the least practical instrument to transport long distance over a trail???) were the best symbol of this.
Eventually a lot of these pianos went missing or were abandoned and as the pillaging and hunting of the title and description refers to the people 200 years later searching out these pianos so they can be sold to museum as archaeological/historical artifacts.
If I was going to define this book with a quote it would be "Milda couldn't help but think that if there were an instrument more delicately strung than the human family she had yet to encounter it. Webbed together by a complicated series of levers sand spools, they were each constantly exerting and releasing tension. Forever torquing against one another in both miserable and nonmiserable ways.". It's about what you do for your family, how you relate to your family, how your family shapes you and the ways in which you try to get closer or further away from your family. So it's family literary fiction with a quirky hook.
The story is told from multiple points of view, all of them associated with the Spahr family in some way. They tell the story of their lives in the present (which at first I thought was also in the past, but turns out to be in some version of the actual present, our present), hunting down pianos to try to support their household and supplement income (their lifestyle of subsistence farming is always on a razor's edge). The present day Spahrs are descended from one of the original families who came to the territory as settlers, and they live on a house suspended on pontoons in the middle of a fjord, where they farm octopuses.
Eventually the story expands to tell the story of the Spahr's ancestor Moose Bloomer, who came to the territory as a 12 year old. Also part of the story are the Huntmoon family, who run the territory church.
First off, the characters are all well drawn and interesting, and it takes very little time to like them and start rooting for them (which is good, because my only real complaint is that I felt like I could've spent more time with them). They've carved out a life for themselves in a not terribly hospitable place, and they've learned to navigate and build families there. They're constantly contending with the very real and tangible effects of climate change (rising water levels which are always displacing them), and the challenges of keeping themselves afloat and their houses in one piece.
Second, the writing is very good, and the way the various POVs are wound together works well.
Third, I liked the way that the world was built off the basics of ours, but with things added on (and a refreshing absolute acceptance of the fact that climate change actually exists, which is hard to deny when it's right in your face the way it would be if you tried to live in the Arctic).
The main thing that I wanted was more, especially with the Spahr sisters, Milda and Temperance. We get their POVs early on, setting up the world and telling their part of the story, but we don't really get anything about them, except peripheral mentions from other characters for the rest of the book, and what we do get only makes me want to know more. Temperance especially, I could've used several more chapters about.
(She is the youngest sibling, the one who always felt like she was sort of not a part of her older brother and sisters' tight unit. She later ends up having a sort of entirely different sort of childhood than them, and also ends up being our LGBTQ rep, and we don't really get to know any of those specifics. I would've loved some more information about her life away from her siblings, and her love life... we get at least some detail about her siblings' love life, why not hers??? Anyway... I suppose if the only complaint I can really come up with is "more please" it's not so bad.)
The book doesn't shy away from death or bad things happening. In the end it's about all the things that sort of brought the family to where they are, good and bad.
This is the sort of book that makes me appreciate getting all these advance copies at ECCC. It's a book I might not pick up on my own, but that is well written, has an interesting premise and good characters. If you like a well-written generational literary story (and a settler story without the "ick" of either colonialism or missionary work on it; the preachers spread the word but don't force anyone to listen to it), this is the one for you.
I received a copy of this novel from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. These thoughts are entirely my own and not a reflection of the exchange.
There is a lot to like here in this upcoming novel. I especially loved the first quarter or so of the book when we meet the Spahr family who are living--or really just getting by--literally on the water in a stilted house in the Arctic. Not surprisingly life is hard, especially as climate change means the permafrost is melting and the water is rising.
Shaw's description is never over the top, yet I can so clearly see Jubilation House. I feel like I could make my way around the house, the veranda, the attic, and the aquatic farm without any assistance because I have such a clear picture of the house in my mind. I loved meeting Milda, Temperance, Finley, and Viola, although I don't have as good of a picture of Fry.
Let's talk about names. The story is built on the idea that the Arctic was a settlement destination much in the same way the West was. We follow the Bloomer family as they head way north to homestead a "civilized" society. On the trail we meet the families who would populate this area. In addition to the Bloomers, we have the Happenstance family, the Mayflowers, the Huntmoons, the Starrs, the Popes, Helixes, etc. Then there are the first names Moose (who we much later find out is actually Moses), Unamelia, Milda, Fry, Hullulla, Maple (known as Mapes), Umi, etc. I don't know if the names are supposed to elicit ideas about the individuals and families or just not be especially tied to any other regions. They often sound Native American but these were very specifically not native peoples, but immigrants into the area.
Timeframes. I think the journey north takes place somewhere in the 1800s. They travel via dog sled, which makes sense for the snow, but a huge chunk of their journey is on dirt, which didn't make a lot of sense to me. Huskies towing sleds in the dirt is doable, but not terribly efficient. The modern timeline is never identified. I'd guess it's present-ish, maybe starting in the 90s? It's sort of irrelevant. They are so far north, they don't have a lot of interaction with the rest of the world, so there's no internet or TV. At the end of the novel, they mention solar cars so it's sometime in the future.
So much of this story is realistic. Everything seems possible, even as it's outlandish. That's especially true for the pianos, or as they call them pianofortes or fortes. When the families traveled north to establish a "civilized" society, they were sold on the idea that there was no more civilizing element than music, so literally every family carried with them a piano. While I know early settlers did do this sometimes, it certainly wasn't every family, and they weren't even trying to travel via dog sled! So it's out there, yet fully accepted in this world. Each piano is a different style and type, each with a name brand, like Napoleon or Bluefin. The lore is that the pianos were abandoned along the way (you learn how as Moose's story unfolds).
I love the world that Shaw has created, and yet after getting to know the Spahrs, we entered the "messy middle." The middle of the story rambled far too much for me. I didn't know where we were going. We see Finley and Milda searching for pianos (which have now become a hot collectible when restored), but I still was not sure what we were building to. More characters are added and we meander to a different part of the settlement. The water is rising. People are leaving. Life is getting harder.
The novel redeems itself in the last chapter, which I also loved. It brings the story to a close and ties a lot of it together. It's touching and beautiful.
Ultimately this is a multi-generational family story, really a character study of that family. I do prefer a little more forward motion to my reading, but I did appreciate the story and would definitely continue to watch Kendra Langford Shaw. She's clearly inventive and has created something wonderfully original here.
The Pillager’s Guide to Arctic Pianos is futuristic climate fiction that takes one wonky idea and builds out the rest of the story around it. The wonky idea is that people moving into the Arctic as land speculators must bring a piano or some other kind of forte with them as a means of cultural enrichment to be able to secure land rights. Then, generations later their descendants begin salvaging those pianos as their life gets more precarious with warming temperatures.
Pianos would of course be much easier to find sunk in the water than say a violin or a trumpet, and be made up of a lot more individual pieces that could be scavenged and sold separately. But when you consider how perilous the journey is that these people were making, that they would allocate that much of what they could bring and move to hauling a piano along when they could bring a violin or trumpet instead seems a bit ridiculous. If it was really about culture and necessities I would be inclined to say laminate sheet music and bring it along to sing from.
If you’re willing to suspend your disbelief about hauling pianos into the tundra, then Kendra Langford Shaw does a pretty good job of imagining a harsh environment subjected to climate change, where people mostly have to live off the land or sea to survive, and people can and do fall victim to nature and illness, without the safety and medical resources we’re all pretty familiar with.
The book goes back and forth between a twelve year old Moose making the homestead journey with his expectant mother and stepfather, and the troubles they face on their way to claim land, and his descendants and those of fellow homesteading families who have survived and have their own descendants in the area. This mainly consists of his four times great grandchildren Milda, Finley and Temperance and fellow homesteading descendants Hullulla , Ezra, and Maple.
Langford Shaw does a good job of of making the reader aware of not just how remote the territory is in the Arctic from the continent, but how far away the families in the territory were from each other. This does create a problem though, in that it not only limits the characters, but limits their interactions with more than just two to four other people. When new characters are introduced it feels abrupt instead of a natural transition to someone you’ve already been introduced to from a different POV.
The book is being compared in its quirkiness to Karen Russell’s Swamplandia. I haven’t read this, but I did read Russell’s latest, The Antidote, last summer and it is also a book that takes a climate crisis (the Dust Bowl) and introduces a few quirky elements. But I think Russell captured something that I don’t really see in this book as much, and that is why the characters are compelled to do what they do, and what keeps them there when life might be better somewhere else. Here, you know they stay generation after generation, but beyond the cost of the continent you don’t really learn why the characters stay. And considering the harsh conditions, the worsening climate change and the struggle to survive they have to be compelled by something.
I think the story idea is interesting, but I also think the characters needed more development to make me understand why they stay somewhere that takes a special kind of life and love to commit to.
A complimentary copy of this book was provided by the publisher. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
BOOK REPORT Received a complimentary copy of The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos, by Kendra Langford Shaw, from Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor | Pantheon /NetGalley, for which I am appreciative, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Scroll past the BOOK REPORT section for a cut-and-paste of the DESCRIPTION of it from them if you want to read my thoughts on the book in the context of that summary.
⭐ 1 ⭐
I fell for the flyleaf copy on this one, y’all.
In particular the “for readers of” part.
But instead of an “unforgettable and inventive ode” that I could lose myself in, what I found myself wading through was a bunch of words put together in what seemed to be a striving for too-clever-by-half mode. “Watch me write, watch me write, WATCH ME WRITE!!!” it screamed to me.
I gave up several pages into Part 2……the second time I attempted to read them. I thought my first reaction was colored by the fact I’d been reading past my bedtime night-before-last, because the first part was interesting—if somewhat odd. Turns out: nope. Still hard to understand and not pleasant to read in the light of day.
And then once I put the book down for good I worked myself into a real swivet remembering other books that, well, had gotten me worked into a real swivet. Infinite Jest, The Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, The Yiddish Policemen’s Union, Geek Love…..I’m sure I’m forgetting some, but those were the ones that immediately popped to mind. I’m sure My Beloved Husband was thankful I couldn’t remember any more than those, because I was in HIGH squawk mode there for a little bit (especially once I got to the insidiousness of the publishing-industrial complex…….).
Anywhoodles…..
Just not for me.
DESCRIPTION For readers of Karen Russell, Maggie Shipstead, and Eowyn Ivey, an exuberant, highly imaginative epic about a family that settles, against all odds, in the far reaches of the Arctic and the unexpected industry that keeps them afloat for generations.
In the far reaches of the Territory of the Arctic, the Spahr family lives on a fjord accessible only by kayak and float plane, in a landscape rapidly changing as glaciers melt and sea levels rise. Their home is Jubilation House, aptly named: they are a family of free spirit and full-hearted love, descendants of the homesteaders who came to this place in a reckless scheme to civilize the Glacial Front. They live off the grid in a converted fisherman's shack, selling pickled octopus and sea crops, barely scraping by. With every day, their livelihood seems ever more precarious.
Then one of their few neighbors dredges up a centuries-old piano, a vestige from the original homesteading expedition, when every family was required to haul a six-hundred-pound instrument as a sign of mannerly society—almost none made it to their final destination. Now, this intricately carved beauty has emerged, perfectly preserved from the frigid Arctic waters, and the antique treasure becomes a priceless collectors’ item. A new economic boom seizes the territory—piano hunting—and the Spahrs throw themselves into the quest with full-throated aplomb. But the costs of their possible salvation soon begin to mount.
The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos travels through generations, backward to the Spahrs’ homesteader origins and forward to their descendants, eccentrics and optimists all. In a voice as buoyant and vibrant as the characters themselves, Kendra Langford Shaw gives us an unforgettable and inventive ode to the abiding love of family and pull of home, even as the home we love becomes ever more challenging to inhabit.
I read a free advance digital review copy provided by the publisher via NetGalley.
Generations ago, homesteaders set off for the far north, planning to civilize and make new lives on what they called the Glacial Front. As part of their notions of what it would take to bring civilization to the frozen north, they hauled huge, heavy pianos with them. Pianos many of them shed along the way because they just couldn’t sledge them through the pathways they made. Over time, many of these pathways became submerged, and bye-bye pianos.
One day, Finley, the eldest child and only son of the Spahr family spots a piano in the bay they dive into in their neoprene suits to harvest food. This is exciting; these pianos tend to stay intact because of the extreme cold of the Arctic water, and having one of these artifacts of a bygone era would make for a tremendously lucrative sale. The Spahrs live a tough, hand-to-mouth existence, loving their home, but finding it backbreaking work just to get by. Piano hunting seems like a great solution to their money problems. For Finley, it becomes a near obsession.
While her brother is entirely devoted to life in their Arctic home, his sister Milda dreams of heading to the continent to go to college and see new worlds. Her father shares her desire to move away, but her mother Viola, has lived in the north her whole life, as had four generations of her forebears, whose stories are told here. Viola will never leave.
Life goes on for the Spahrs and others in their small community. They eat from the sea and the crops they raise in the short summers, with some supplements from the continent if they have enough money. They have their traditions, their rituals, and continue to make a life as best they can despite sea rise, the increase in tourists (a blessing and a curse), and the perils of living in this often harsh environment.
This is a multi-generational story set in a place that seems at times magical and at other times like endless drudgery. This most unusual setting comes to life in debut author Shaw’s hands, as she explores themes of home and family.
Having grown up in Alaska with a father who delivered musical instruments by plane to remote areas, Kendra Langford Shaw imagines a life even colder and more extreme but still focused on bringing culture to a remote region.
Chapters switch back and forth between a group of early travelers in search of free Arctic land and their descendants several generations later. Facing a requirement that each settler family bring a piano to demonstrate their commitment to civilizing the region, parents have chosen a variety of instruments, ranging from fairly small to large and extremely heavy, each of which must be transported by dog sled as families face months of hardships and deadly perils along the way, causing loss of instruments and lives. As readers learn the settlers’ stories, they also learn the stories of their descendants facing climate change. Icebergs are melting, waters rising, and lifestyles changing. Tourists have arrived in the Arctic. Small planes have replaced dog sleds. A search begins for the early settlers’ lost pianos. Strange as it sounds after the passage of several generations, the author explains their survival, the practical reason for their search, all while dramatizing new hazards brought on by the search itself.
To my mind, the story got off to a slow start but quickly picked up its pace. As I came to know the individual settlers and their descendants, their stories drew me in, causing me to care about what happened to each of the characters, whether the early settlers or the future two generations that play major roles in this unusual novel of life in a remote place I would never imagine living but that the author brings to life, complete with octopus farming and lovable sea lions.
Thanks to NetGalley and Pantheon for an advance reader egalley of this enjoyable and suspenseful novel. Kendra Langford Shaw is sure to find many fans!
Thank you NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage and Anchor for the advanced readers copy of The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos.
The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos spans generations, weaving together past and future in a richly imagined Arctic setting where love, loss, and legacy collide in unexpected ways. This exuberant and imaginative debut novel is a multi-generational epic centered on the Spahr family, who live off the grid in the remote Arctic at a place called Jubilation House. Their quirky, resilient lifestyle—selling pickled octopus and sea crops—faces growing uncertainty as climate change reshapes their world. The story takes a whimsical turn when a neighbor dredges up a centuries-old piano from the icy waters—a relic from a failed homesteading scheme where settlers were required to haul pianos as symbols of civilization. This discovery sparks a bizarre economic boom: piano hunting. The Spahrs dive into this new industry with gusto, hoping it will save them from financial ruin.
I asked to read this copy because the title captured my attention and the story seemed quirky. So quirky, I found myself googling if this was really something that happened! I'll let the reader google for themselves to find that answer.
For someone else, this will be a 5-star read. For me, it dipped too far into unbelievable for me to truly enjoy it. I found myself googling words throughout the book, (to see if they were real words) and some of the physics of the book didn't sit with me.
What I liked were the characters and strong familial bonds that kept the family together even though times were often tough. I also found the writing style easy to read, easy to follow and all the minor characters mostly likeable as well. I was invested in the story and the characters to finish the book.
We, the Spahrs of Jubilation House, were a family of bravado and rosin, heart tattoos along our collar bones, moles tucked into nooks and crannies. from The Pillagers’ Guide to Arctic Pianos
I was enchanted by this novel from the beginning, elated by it’s unique voice and story. It is a multi-generational family drama unfolding in the remote Arctic, from the first, naive, homesteaders down generations to the present day and the challenges of climate change.
The life these characters lead are remarkable and alien: they farm octopus, befriend sea lions, eat starfish patties and brew seaweed hootch. They live on a house on stilts above the water that freezes solid in winter, surviving on pickled octopus arms and beet juice. It is a subsistence life.
Their Mainland ancestors were drawn to Disillusionment Bay for free land, dreaming of farming and a home of their own. They were required to bring a piano, symbol of civilization. Many of the homesteaders, and their instruments, were lost along the treacherous journey, swept off by the Kamikaze River, sunk into the ocean.
To supplement their income, the Spahrs seek out the submerged fortes, preserved by the low oxygen cold water, to restore them or sell the valuable parts, particularly the ivory piano keys.
At the center of the book is Finley Spahr, determined to hold onto his family’s hard won heritage by finding the piano his family lost during their trek.
It is exciting to read a novel so fresh and new, taking me to a world I could never imagine, and into the hearts of characters I come to love.
Thanks to Pantheon for a free book through NetGalley.
I love how Kendra Langford Shaw retells the familiar and beloved old tale of a family's struggle to survive. But she brings in some new twists, like the setting of a fjord in the Territory of the Arctic. At times due to changing environments, you will follow family groups mid-migration, like a new version of the familiar wild territorial Oregon Trail adventure. But there is aching cold, and a surrounding sea this time around. The strong survive with clever MacGyver hacks and these impossibly hardheaded homesteaders have creative building adventures reminiscent of the Swiss Family Robinson. Similarly to the harsh settings of the faraway planets in the epic of Dune, you feel the icy fear of isolation and the fragility of family life. In spite of knowing your final battle for survival could be just around the corner, there is a comfort that Shaw weaves in that sets a balance to any and all of the traumas. Your shaking hand will be forced to continue the page turning. Why? Because this is all done for family and it's the legacy of the family that is worth it all. And then there are the pianos that are more than just pianos. The pianos and the fresh story telling become a recipe to satisfy your soul with a quirky artistic vibe peppered with the character of a classic literary comfort. Thank you Kendra Langford Shaw, NetGalley, and the publishing group of Knopf, Pantheon. Vintage, and Anchor for the ARC of this book to be published May 12, 2026. Yes, there are still fresh stories of family and adventure out there for us to enjoy!
Thank you Pantheon for the advance copy of this book.
I was immediately intrigued by the title of this book and the way an antique piano is framed as this sort of white whale for the Spahr family, elusive and full of promise. The story spans generations, moving back and forth in time between the Spahr siblings, the homesteading Bloomers, and other characters. Though the book begins in first person perspective, most other chapters are written in third person.
This is a slower paced story but I greatly enjoyed the immersive depiction of life in the fjord; the details of how they acquired essentials, the food they ate, and the vivid imagery of the Arctic environment that made it easy to imagine Jubilation House and the surrounding area. Notably, the author grew up in Alaska and drew on her own lived experiences while writing this book which brings authenticity to the landscape and story.
The story examines the dynamics of a sibling trio and how their relationship changes and evolves as they grow up, the challenges that the homesteaders faced, and the bonds of chosen family. I grew so attached to the characters and there were multiple times I felt very emotional while reading. It's a little dystopian as the characters live in a world deeply affected by climate change, demonstrating how the effects modify the landscape and community over time. This isn't the type of book I'd normally pick up but I'm glad I did! This book definitely won't be for everyone, but I enjoyed it.
The synopsis for this novel completely drew me in with its fascinating historical foundation. I had no idea that diving for sunken artifacts (pianos included) was ever a real livelihood, and that detail alone made the world feel fresh, strange, and unexpectedly real. I even did a Google deep dive on this.
The story unfolds as a quiet, intimate slice of life centered on the Spahr family, told through multiple POVs and generations that give each character space to breathe. Their existence on a remote Arctic island is both harsh and oddly beautiful. They spend their days salting seafood, breeding octopi, and searching the depths for lost treasures. The logistics of their lives are based on moving between island and mainland by ship, kayak, and even plane which really adds to the sense of isolation and resilience that defines the novel.
The storytelling is very grounded. Against the backdrop of climate change, rising sea levels, and other devastating events, the book captures what it means to endure in an unforgiving environment. It doesn’t sensationalize their lives; instead, it lets the rhythms, struggles, and small moments speak for themselves. It’s a thoughtful, atmospheric read that offers a glimpse into a way of life that feels both distant and deeply human.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Kendra Langford Shaw, and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for the ARC. All opinions are my own.
The Pillager’s Guide to Arctic Pianos immediately hooked me with its unusual premise, and I was lucky enough to read a preproduction copy. The idea of transporting pianos to the Arctic as part of a homesteading claim felt fresh and intriguing, and the first quarter of the book really delivered on that promise. The story follows the Spahr family across two timelines, shifting between the present and the past as they embark on their ambitious journey north. While this structure had potential, the frequent time jumps ended up disrupting the pacing more than enhancing it. Just as I would settle into one thread, the narrative would pull away, making it harder to stay fully engaged. At its core, the novel seems less about the missing piano and more about the resilience and adaptability of people facing extreme conditions. There’s a clear emphasis on how individuals come together to solve problems and survive, which is a compelling theme. However, despite the author’s strong descriptive world-building, the story itself felt a bit dry to me, and at times unfocused. Overall, I appreciated the originality of the concept and the underlying message, but the uneven pacing and scattered structure made it difficult to stay invested. It’s a creative and ambitious book, but one that didn’t fully come together for me.
This quirky novel follows the Spahr family, who first headed to the Arctic Territory, piano in tow, with dozens of other homesteaders seeking to build a cultured community in this desolate and frozen landscape. None of the pianos survived the journey, but years later their descendants are living precariously on the edge of the land, farming octopuses (octopi?) and hunting for submerged pianos in the freezing fjord to recover and sell them to museums and collectors.
The writing is vivid but it’s all whimsical setting and vibes without much substance. Characters appear, disappear, and die without us ever really getting to know them. Time passes, the water rises, generations raised to live on kelp ale and dried octopus arms endure. It’s sort of an intergenerational saga but it doesn’t really explore how decisions reverberate through time. Rather, it looks at how these generations carry on the traditions of their ancestors. The author did try to pull the thread back to their great-great-great-great-grandfather who first settled in the territory, but in the end there just wasn’t enough depth for me.
Thank you to NetGalley and Pantheon for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I received a free DRC of this book through Netgalley and the publisher. First of all, if that title doesn't pull you in, then I'm worried about you. I was hugely curious about this book based on the title and premise alone. Making homesteaders bring a 600-lb piano into the wilderness of the Arctic to secure acreage is quite the plot. The book timeline jumps back and forth and all over, but thankfully it is marked well with the person's POV and where we are in the timeline so that it wasn't confusing at all. The story jumps between between the earliest homesteaders dragging their behemoth musical instruments to their descendants who are trying to survive with the bare minimum in the wild even hundreds of years later. Death is a common foe. The water is taking back the land as well as climate change melts the glaciers. Life is a struggle. Those ancient musical instruments come up again as both saviors and death sirens as their monetary value and scarcity makes them a popular collectors' item. Somehow they have been preserved in their watery graves. There is some humor in this book, but there is also a lot of grief. The persistence of humans to live in unhospitable places is quite a wonder.
If you like the premise, I think you'd enjoy the book. The idea of homesteaders having to haul a pianoforte through the wilderness in exchange for their land is just weird enough that I thought it might be true. I'm not sure if the modern-day lifestyles were accurate in any way, but imagining living like the people in this story was wild. I found most of the stories from the various timelines extremely stressful, due to the dangers of living in the remote wilderness, scarcity of resources, and climate change (as well as questionable personal decisions). I did start having trouble keeping track of the family trees, likely in part because so many of the characters had unique names that did not want to stick in my brain (Milda, Hullulla, Minion, etc.). I do think some readers will struggle with the writing style, which feels very dense and is unrelenting in that aspect. It is interesting and well done, but I'm not sure it's the most approachable family history story, and I think it will struggle to land for a lot of readers. I finished the book feeling very grateful that I don't live in the remote Arctic and that I have the luxury of feeling emotions. (I do, however, want a pet sea lion very badly.)
An unusual and quirky novel about the effects of climate change on a family living in the far reaches of Alaska. This moves back and forth in time between Moose, whose stepfather decides to move his small family north for more opportunities, and his descendants, notably Finlay and Milda. The thing is, those who wanted to homestead were required to bring pianos with them. Giant pianos. In one a twelve foot high one. And it is these pianos which having broken loose from their sleds become a source of income for Finlay, Milda, Hullula, and so on. Finlay scavenges pianos and restores them and this is how he meets Hullula daughter of a preacher, ace fisherperson, and best friend of Maple. The time period is never specified but the pace of melting accelerates change in all of their lives as their homes are threatened. And always there's the Kamikaze river. Animal lovers should know octopi loom large, that there's a grisly scene with a grizzly but there's also a cool seal lion. This baffles and enchants with equal measure thanks to the world building. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. It's a good read that takes a bit of patience in spots and runs headlong in others.
Quirky, imaginative, and way more heartfelt than I expected. This story feels like stepping into someone’s family history and watching generation after generation fight for the same wild little corner of the world. I loved the Arctic setting and the way the author blended nature writing with this offbeat concept of piano hunting. It sounds absurd on paper, but somehow it works, and it becomes this really tender look at survival, legacy, and the weight of the choices families make over time.
Some moments hit harder than I expected, especially when the story shifts between past and present and you start to see how each decision ripples across the years. Certain plot threads felt a little slow, but the emotional payoff made up for it. I ended up more invested in this family than I thought I would, rooting for them through every setback, every strange new turn, every piece of history that refuses to stay buried.
A beautifully odd story with a big heart, and I’m really glad I picked it up.
I think I’m going with 2.5 stars. I wanted to like this more than I did. It took me months to get through. I think I read ten books between when I started this, and I only finally picked it up to finish when I was out of other options. With such a fun title and a pretty cover, I expected more whimsy. I think it had a good concept, but the execution didn’t do it for me. I’m a bit fussy about multi-generational stories so it’s possible I’m just not the target audience for this one.
The story follows the same family through a few different timelines. They’re very poor homesteading in the Arctic. A long time ago when people started moving there for the government’s incentive, they were bringing a bunch of pianos. (Honestly if it was explained how the pianos ended up sunk in the ocean, I missed it). But they’re worth a lot of money so the family spends time piano hunting, with one of the kids being obsessed with finding a specific one.
We follow the family through time-hunting pianos, farming octopus, and doing whatever else they can to make ends meet. It was well-written, just not a story for me.
**ARC review. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for letting me read it early.
This book was a quirky twist on the gold rush including settlers and intergenerational consequences of said settling but also included commentary on climate change. Many reviewers remark on the quirk-ness of this story, but I feel it needed MORE quirky-ness to really be enjoyable. The premise got me excited to satiate the taste that Wild Dark Shore left behind; however, this was nowhere near dark/grim and unfortunately not quite "fun" enough for me either.
I will say the setting was detailed enough in imagery to be enjoyable, and overall was well set-up enough that I did have to look into how much or little this was based on reality, historically. I didn't love the execution of the time-hops without a chapter header to really tell us where we were in chronology.
The characters were likeable enough throughout, and I appreciated the sibling relationships when all they really had was each other while they were homesteading and essentially sustenance living.
This will definitely be enjoyed by some, unfortunately just didn't have enough pizazz for me...
The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos is one of those rare literary novels that feels both deeply strange and completely lived-in. Set in an alternate Arctic shaped by rising waters, harsh routines, and generations of family memory, the book builds its world through intimate daily details rather than dramatic exposition, which makes the setting feel immersive and hauntingly believable. Shaw’s prose is restrained but evocative, allowing the emotional weight of survival, grief, and familial obligation to emerge naturally through the rhythms of ordinary life. I especially loved the way the novel treated objects from the past (particularly the abandoned pianos) not simply as relics, but as artifacts constantly being reinterpreted by the people who uncover them. The shifting timelines and multiple perspectives could occasionally leave me wanting more time with certain characters, but the novel’s atmosphere, emotional depth, and quietly inventive worldbuilding made it a deeply memorable read.
Thank you NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for the ARC!
Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC of The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos by Kendra Langford Shaw. I received this copy for free and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
What are the odds that I would read books about Alaska back-to-back? Two very different books; both enjoyable in their own way.
The Pillagers' Guide to Arctic Pianos was a fun, meandering story of homesteaders in Alaska. Along with their worldly possessions they all were transporting pianofortes, because someone decided that they would need these to show they were a proper family.
Of course, transporting these proved very difficult in a cold, desolate landscape.
But that's not really the focus of the story. It's more about the families and how they really became part of the landscape, living off the land and the sea and dealing with weather and floods and travel and isolation.
I enjoyed this very much. A big long in sections but worth a read.
This novel is a beautifully woven generational story about family, friendship, and the search for identity. Shaw’s writing feels both intimate and cinematic, pulling me into the icy, atmospheric settings where the characters’ lives unfold. I loved how she explored the complex dynamics between family members and lifelong friends, showing how history, secrets, and shared experiences shape who we become.
The strength of the book lies in its characters—they are layered and flawed, yet deeply relatable. The way Shaw balances moments of quiet introspection with scenes of tension and discovery made the story compelling throughout. I also appreciated how the narrative examined what it means to forge one’s own identity while honoring the ties that bind.
Overall, The Pillagers Guide To Arctic Pianos is a thoughtful, evocative read that will resonate with anyone who enjoys multi-generational stories about connection and self-discovery.