A breathtaking and epic exploration of the transforming Arctic.
The Arctic was once a place seemingly frozen in time. Now, while the old cold world can still be glimpsed in the herds of caribou, the hidden lives of wolves, and the hunting skill of an Inupiat elder, there is a new Arctic emerging.
National Geographic writer Neil Shea begins his journey with the wolves of Canada’s Ellesmere Island, and travels among the Indigenous Netsilingmiut and Tlicho peoples of Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. In the Barren Lands, perched on an esker, he watches bears, or Big Men. In Alaska he tracks the patterns of caribou, now shifting after thousands of years of predictability, and in the European Arctic, he explores the new Cold War that is rising between Russia, China, Europe, and the United States over who controls the pole, and who will reap its riches as the ice melts.
Frostlines is an expansive yet intimate revelation of the Arctic during a time of crisis, and a journey along the threshold of this stunning and sometimes frightening world. What Shea finds is not one Arctic but many - all linked by shattering cold, seasons of darkness, and pure, sparkling light.
In this excellent, thoughtful, and thought-provoking book, Neil Shea takes readers on a journey across the Arctic to illuminate this cold environment, the animals and humans who call it home, and the landscape itself, now changing rapidly as our world gets warmer. He visits Canada, Alaska, Greenland, and Norway at the Russian border, spending time in the wild and learning from the people who live in these places. He reminds us that although we don't think much about this region of the earth, it has a big impact on those of us who live south of the Arctic Circle. He asks, "What can it mean for all of us, if the north ceases to be cold?" (p. 8)
For the people who live in these cold places, things are changing fast and they're adapting as best as they can. Having lived in Alaska for a decade, and having done some work with some Inupiaq people (although not in the same region he describes in the book), I was particularly interested in how things I observed 20 years before he was there had accelerated, both in terms of the environment and with interpersonal relations between Native people and the '-ologists,' who came from outside and objectified them, trying to grab all the knowledge and information they could to use for their own ends.
The author describes his own growing awareness and enlightenment as he learns how Native people see the land and the animals. He describes the ways in which they see themselves as being in relationship with the animals and land--and relationship brings with it responsibility to behave in appropriate ways. For example, it's a common view among Inupiaq whale hunters, particularly elders, that the whales give themselves to the hunter to sustain the community. This requires the hunters to behave properly and share the meat appropriately. Animals are crucial because, on the most basic level, it's how people live. Given the isolation of these communities and the lack of options, hunting is essential.
This is an important book which describes moments of profound connection--something that we'd all do well to cultivate in our own lives, no matter where we live. Highly recommend.
Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.
A National Geographic journalist provides us with a beautiful glimpse into one of the harshest landscapes on Earth - the Arctic Circle. Neil Shea begins looking for the effects of climate change on the people, animals and land but it evolves into a tender story of kindness, perseverance and hope from the people who live there and who depend on this fragile ecosystem. He goes into the history and culture through a wide sweep of the Arctic from Alaska to Finland. It is obvious that telling this story and his experiences meant alot to him. It is educational, entertaining and a call to action all at once and will appeal to nature lovers, people concerned with the effects of climate change and the history and anthropology of an area less explored. It might also serve as a travelogue for the hardy or for the armchair variety! My thanks to the publisher for the advance copy.
Full disclosure: I’ve known and worked with Neil for years, including on stories for National Geographic that form the basis for parts of this book, so make of my opinion what you will. But I believe he’s produced a searingly beautiful portrait of the Arctic. Deftly weaving natural history, anthropology, and geopolitics, he helps us see with fresh eyes one of the planet’s most forbidding and misunderstood landscapes.
We camp with a pack of Arctic wolves, venture onto the uncertain ice with Indigenous hunters, sit on the hummocks of tundra grass to watch the migrating caribou, and travel right up to the front lines of a new, rapidly melting Cold War.
Neil doesn't just report on the Arctic—he transports us there with lyrical, urgent prose. He makes us feel the cold, witness the beauty, and understand the terrible speed at which this crucial place is transforming.
3.5 ⭐️ (rounded up) A travelogue set in the Arctic à la John McPhee in Coming Into The Country. I live in Alaska so it’s always fun to hear about and see the state and remote areas through others’ eyes. These kinds of books are too often done and mostly not done well. Reading about how others see local folks, particularly indigenous populations, as something to gawk at and write about is a hard line to draw. This book mostly does it ok and there is always something magic about the North.
There’s a false notion that some people hold of the Arctic being a frozen wasteland devoid of much (if any) life and therefore undeserving of concern. Shea shows just how vibrant and diverse the landscape is and the threats due to warming in Frostlines.
He travels with a wolf pack on Ellesmere Island, tracks caribou with Tlicho citizens on their ancestral lands, and explores the borderlands of Kirkenes, Norway. These are only a few of the areas Shea shares.
His writing is personal, inviting the reader into his experiences by keenly observing the world around him.
Through intimate portraits of peoples and animals, anthropology, and natural history, he educates on climate science and the fragility of ecosystems — systems that are transforming under increased pressures of warming temperatures. The need to protect the vast expanse of the Arctic is undeniable.
It felt especially poignant to read this book in autumn while the current administration actively stripped critical protections for millions of acres of public lands in the Western Arctic Reserve.
It’s clear that Shea feels deeply for what he writes about. This was an affecting read. Recommended for readers interested in the intersection of climate change and cultural shifts.
A journey through many countries in the Arctic Circle, where people share their lives with unfamiliar animals. Wolves, bears, caribou, and many others, which the author describes masterfully, without forgetting the history that has shaped that place up to that point. Very well written and definitely interesting.
Un viaggio tra tanti paesi del circolo polare artico le persone che lo condividono con animali particolarmente sconosciuti. Lupi, orsi, caribú e tanti altri, che l'autore descrive con maestria, senza dimenticare la storia che ha caratterizzato quel posto fino a quel momento. Molto ben scritto e decisamente interessante.
I received from the Publisher a complimentary digital advanced review copy of the book in exchange for a honest review.
Frostlines is a book about "the transforming arctic", as National Geographic writer Neil Shea travels across the accessible Arctic to explore how it is changing and how many of the indigenous people there react to this. From meeting people in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories to find out how their lives have changed, to watching wildlife like bears, wolves, and caribou, to learning what it is like at the point in Norway that touches Russia, there's a range of experiences that Shea documents, all with a focus on the Arctic as somewhere people and animals live, not just the barren wasteland many imagine. Not only that, but it is a place impacted by human decisions and climate and geopolitical changes.
I'm not entirely sure why I decided to read this book, as it isn't something I'd typically pick up, but I'm very glad that I did. I don't have any experience of the Arctic and I felt like I learnt a lot about the peoples and places documented in the book. In particular, the chapter about Greenland offered an interesting look at the people who have lived and arrived there, and what might be needed to survive somewhere properly. The chapters on the North American parts of the Arctic felt especially rich, with a lot of different people spoken to, particularly indigenous people, and Shea travelling with people there to see the landscapes and ways of life. In contrast, the later part of the book felt like it could only cover very specific elements of places and wasn't able to give as full a picture. Overall, the Arctic is vast and you can feel in the book like there could have been so much more said about.
“Frostlines” é um livro escrito no limite entre gelo e memória. Shea atravessa o Ártico – narvais que usam presas como dedos sensíveis, lobos que esqueceram de ter medo, caribus que carregam culturas inteiras – para revelar um mundo em transformação acelerada. Cada capítulo é uma cartografia ética: o sinaaq vibrando de vida sob o sol da meia-noite, os Tłı̨chǫ seguindo trilhas ancestrais enquanto a manada Bathurst desaparece, os Nunamiut ensinando que a caça é relação e renovação, os Inuit de Gjoa Haven vivendo entre gelo que some e histórias que se apagam, e até Kirkenes, onde fronteiras humanas persistem em violentar o que a natureza insiste em desfazer. Shea escreve com a precisão de um repórter e o cuidado de um poeta, mostrando que o Ártico não é uma abstração: é o aviso antecipado do planeta, o lugar onde o futuro já começou a ruir. Um livro deslumbrante e devastador, que transforma ciência e testemunho em literatura de mundo.
I have read a fair number of books about climate change but very few were written as well as this one. Shea uses personal narratives from the arctic region with just the right sprinkle of science here and there. It's an effective method of telling the story of our planet and the destructive path it is on.
Shea becomes the go-between to introduce us to a new world- or rather, an old world. A world full of culture, history, movement and memories, which is on the verge of being lost.
Shea wishes to ‘bear witness’ to life in the Arctic and to allow all us ‘southerners’ to experience the harsh beauty of life there. He acknowledges though that a new Arctic is emerging and its peoples are torn between adapting to the emerging new world and looking back to preserve and hold tight to the traditions of the past. From Ellesmere Island to the Northwest Territories to Alaska, Norway and Grøenland (Greenland), Shea takes the reader on a deeply personal journey, exploring the liminal spaces and thresholds which exist in the various Arctics. Through the eyes of those not living in the Arctic, there is only one Arctic, but for its peoples, the landscape is charged with different tribes, languages and histories. ‘Four million people living in the region. Some four-hundred thousand of them are Indigenous. Dozens of languages, dozens of tribes and nations and homelands, all of them scattered across just eight modern states.’
Shea’s trail begins by following the animals of these landscapes, animals which are an equal part of this world. He describes quasi-spiritual moments among narwhals, wolves and caribou hunts and begins to cast this relationship as a form of pilgrimage and in choosing to immerse yourself in this pilgrimage, the sense of belonging and identity grows.
The Great Vanishing
Shea moves us away from the ‘southern’ duality of predator and prey thinking about the relationship between animals and humans. ‘Here instead were fellow citizens, travelling through time, over the land, together.’ More importantly, he argues that living with animals becomes an indelible part of your identity and when the herds shrink and disappear, more is lost than just the wildlife. ‘If you are a caribou people and your caribou disappear, what do you become?’ The reasons for this loss do not appear to be clear cut. ‘No one knows that the caribou are disappearing. There’s no consensus on what’s behind this great vanishing. No disease has been pinpointed, no individual culprit gets the blame.’
The language used to describe the landscape of the Arctic may miss out on so much- words like ‘bleak’, ‘empty’, unforgiving’ or ‘arid’, fail to capture the richness of the northern worlds. The Arctic is more than just the visual experience that these earlier words convey and instead, like many landscapes, it contains a history, a presence, and emotional ties that help define who we are.
If we limit and contain our knowledge of any place to merely what can be seen, we miss out on the invisible bonds that create that sense of belonging between a people and a land. ‘The land isn’t barren, it’s busy with the memories of caribou.’
The collective sigh of climate change
That this relationship between place and people is changing is in no doubt. Shea draws on his own experiences of the Arctic when he notes, ‘The Arctic I saw in 2005 no longer exists. Innumerable changes have unfolded since I stood on the sea ice in Admiralty Inlet. Most of them have to do with heat, human-caused climate warming, and the fact that today the Arctic is warming three or four times more rapidly than any other region of the planet.’ What this new world means for the peoples of the Arctic, as different vegetation grows, as different species move in and out of this new world, and as passages for humans to move through and exploit, all remains to be seen. As Inuk activist and Nobel peace Prize nominee Sheila Watt- Cloutier notes, “What is happening today in the Arctic is the future of the rest of the world.” Ice is the ‘glue that binds this Arctic world together’ and even from a southern perspective, there is a deep sense of loss that comes, when what was viewed as never-changing becomes fragile and diminished. Shea asks the most relevant of all questions, when he reminds us that what happens in the Arctic doesn’t stay in the Arctic. ‘What can it mean, for all of us, if the north ceases to be cold?’
Walking the land
In reading, or experiencing this book, I am reminded of the proverb, "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man".
The Arctic is a shifting river of changing time, memory and people. The impact of human society is felt sharply there, whether in the guise of geopolitical threats and posturing from nations wanting to exploit Arctic resources, or from the impacts of climate change.
This is not a text which is a eulogy for a lost world, or the looming mortality of tribal knowledge and customs, nor is it an angry, emotional rant about the effects of ‘Southern’ influence in a landscape to which we don’t belong. Shea sums it up best when he describes a ‘moral relationship’, ‘What indigenous communicates now to me, after my journeys through the north, is a sense of belonging that is not manufactured or purchased but earned. A commitment to moral relationships between humans and land and sea. A respect for the way cold holds everything together.’
He concludes by pushing humanity to the side and focuses on the landscape, the trails, the memories, the opposites which live beside each other in a world where the frost is softly melting. Shea argues that this Arctic world might not end in a catastrophic ‘bang’, but rather in a series of events that end the way of life there, like a door slowly closing.
‘The borders that mattered, I had thought, were not imaginary lines drawn between nation-states that might not survive another century. What mattered were shifting edges of ice and water, earth and stone, trees, light, darkness. Language. The movement of animals.’
Blue lakes and rocky shores / Will we return once more?
The Artic has long been romanticized as a land of unyielding frost, immutable, stolid, unchanging. While the spirit of the tundra can still be traced in the movements of the hardy animals and peoples who call it home, a new land - and the loss of the old one - can be glimpsed just under the surface. following the waning light of a westward sun, Neil Shea walks among wolf packs on Canada's Ellesmere island, follows the trail of Indigenous Netsilingmiut and Tlicho peoples of Nunavut and the Northwest Territories, chases the shadows of elusive caribou across Alaska, and witnesses the potential devastation of oil and gas development in America's farthest flung wilds. In the European Artic, the retreating cold makes way for a Cold War between global powers over who controls the land and the riches beneath the ice melt.
The greatest revelation the frozen earth provides is that the Artic is not a monolith, but rather a rich diversity - out of one, many - bonded by shattering cold, seasons of darkness, and a pure, inimitable light. In the starkness of the midnight sun, the wind-swept atmosphere, and the frosted abyss of a land which ekes every drop of life it can out of its inhabitants, Neil Shea crafts an expansive, intimate tale of an Artic mid-transformation - a metamorphosis of a land both frightening and devastating emerging before our very eyes.
This was an incredibly poignant and heart-wrenching tale of a land many of us will never visit, but which hold such vital life and importance in our ever-warming world. I can tell Neil Shea has a deep-seated love for the Artic and can see the influence his time at National Geographic has had - this was beautifully written, engaging, and definitely tugged at that part of me which wants to throw everything to the wind and take off into the wild blue yonder. An observation and told in phases as he travels from east to west at the top of the world, each phase of the book offers a beautiful glimpse into all the Artic offers - its indifference, its wild abandon, its defiance, and ultimately its yielding resistance to a world that continues to move on without it.
Many who grew up in the 2000s I think more than most have an urgency and (hopefully) a desperation about climate change and the havoc it continues to leech into the land - while much of the world has moved on in the face of ever-present and more flagrant threats to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, the slow death of a way of life in the face of a melting world should still remain at the forefront. More than offering a solution to a problem bigger than the sky, Shea's exploration and documentation of a lifestyle and ecosystem fading away invites readers to experience the world as it changes, and will hopefully reignite something wild, something stark, and something yearning in them as they stalk the tundra through all its phases in homage to a land out of time that's becoming something new.
Full disclosure: I got this ARC in a goodreads giveaway in exchange for an honest review. I came into the book a skeptic and left the same way. Which is OK. Shea says that he is not there to prove climate change and is assuming the book will mostly reach true believers. The book is narrative rather than pursusive. The narative writing is beautiful. You can feel Shea's heart for the animals he describes and for the people who hunt and depend on them. You can also nearly see and feel the animals and people he describes. The politics is much as I expected it to be. That is to say, ridiculous, and often inserted for no good reason. For example the last chapter of the book is largely about the invasion of Ukraine by Putin. There are the mandatory cheap shots at Donald Trump though not as many as I expected. The enviromental pieces are tinged in hysteria, as is to be expected. "The Vikings tried to save themselves from climate change, but we aren't even really doing that." Oddly, however, all of the issues he addresses (except Ukraine) there are several reasons he gives for the problems the species has other than climate change. For example, the caribo are decreasing. We are meant to see this as a sign that the world is burning itself up. However, he also says that the herds are hard to locate even in good years, that overhunting is an issue, that improper hunting by sportsmen is an issue (They shoot the first deer they see rather than letting them establish a scent trail others will follow so the herds by deviate from usual patterns), and that there are natural ebbs and flows of dear populations over time (in other words the deer may be underbreeding to correct for previous overbreeding). The Natives are concerned about some of the issues, but, notably, none of them attribute it to climate change. A skeptical reader gets the impression that they are politely letting him ramble on because they like him, but they change the subject when he gets on his climate change hobby horse. Overall this is a well written nature study. I would recommend borrowing it from the library.
I’m not your typical NatGeo subscriber and the Arctic has never been on my travel wish list, but Frostlines definitely pulled me North. This book is drawn from seven long-form essays, and Shea highlights the overlaps of these stories to paint a larger picture of the region.
Shea’s writing is enjoyable because he doesn’t just observe from the sidelines in the manner of some detached journalists. He has an eye for detail and somehow makes you feel as if you’re dragging yourself through the snow right beside him. This book definitely has a way of transporting you and making you feel as if you’re experiencing it in real time, especially reading it during an icy NYC winter.
As someone who has only recently come to birding and that larger, experiential way of taking in the world, I found myself completely drawn into Shea’s encounters with Arctic wildlife. I never considered myself a “nature person,” however, there is something about seeing animals in their evolving habitats through his eyes that made me consider what I might have overlooked.
What I appreciated the most was how he balances his own perspective with the voices of the people who live in and love these frozen areas of the earth. He respects their stories and doesn’t try to speak for them, but he doesn’t disappear entirely, which is a delicate balance. I knew almost nothing about Arctic history, politics, or cultural nuances before picking this book up, but Shea explores these topics and allows you to follow along without simplifying it beyond recognition.
For me, Frostlines felt like a “gateway book” in the sense that it gave me just enough grounding to feel oriented while sparking a genuine interest in delving deeper into the Arctic and the people. And animals that call it home. Overall, it isn’t just about a place, it’s about what it means to pay attention. For a non-nature lover who is slowly becoming one, it’s a great read even - if you don’t have the Arctic on your 52 Places to Go (yet!)
I've been reading a lot about the Arctic lately in preparation for a trip to Churchill, Manitoba, in a few weeks. Frostlines: A Journey Through Entangled Lives and Landscapes in a Warming Arctic by Neil Shea is reminiscent of Arctic Dreams by Barry Lopez and The Last Imaginary Place: A Human History of the Arctic World by Robert McGhee, but several decades newer. (Arctic Dreams, which won the National Book Award, was published in 1986, while Last Imaginary Place was published in 2004.) All three books are collections of stories and experiences gained from traveling around the Arctic, spending time with Indigenous folks, scientists, miners, and soldiers, learning about the ways of life of humans, whales, caribou, wolves, and other species. Frostlines, published in 2025, looks at the way the Arctic is changing rapidly, affected by climate change much more severely than the rest of globe; as well as feeling impacts from Covid-19 and the Ukrainian war and the lingering harms of colonialism. Frostlines has a more sensitive, nuanced approach to Indigenous communities, which are facing twin threats from loss of knowledge as older generations pass and loss of the caribou herds on which they depend.
Every so often you come across a book that you know is going to stay with you forever. Frostlines is one of those books. It's one of the most compelling, beautiful, and heartbreaking things I've read in years. The author is a writer for National Geographic and first visited the Arctic 20 years ago, when climate change was already evident but hadn't really started to bite. This book is a series of snapshots from a recent trip that includes Alaska, Canada, Greenland, and Norway (the Russian Arctic is off limits these days, as is eloquently described in the final chapter). He describes, from his own experience and that of native dwellers, how different things have become in the years since he last visited, how animal and plant lives are under increasing stress, how that affects the people who depend on them, and how all of life is trying to adapt and survive, some species more successfully than others.
This book isn't an attempt to get people to believe in the reality of climate change, it's a description, in the form of a travelogue, of what climate change is doing to the part of the world that's changing faster than anywhere else. Neil Shea is a brilliant writer and conjures up wonderful mental pictures of the environment and people he's describing. The published version (I'm reviewing an unillustrated pre-publication e-book) will also have several photos of these incredible places and their plant, animal, and human life. This book is an absolute treasure.
I love reading about the Arctic. I’m not sure what it is.
Maybe it’s the part of me that loves looking a different mapping projections - if you love the mind-bend of a good Peterson projection, just imagine the way your head spins when the center of the world shifts entirely to the North.
Maybe it’s the part of me that wonders a newness - everything in Frostlines is ancient, from the animal migration patterns to the indigenous knowledge of the tundra, and yet all of it feels new and limitless to me.
Or maybe it’s just the part of me that loves to feel the cold. Cold provides a clarity that clears the mind and strengthens the spirit. Cold creates apricity. The Arctic cold is brutal, but when it’s cold enough, the ice stays frozen. The caribou and wolves can then migrate across many miles. People can walk across the water to gather with distant relatives and share the news of what happened while the ice was melted. What do you lose then, when the ice is always melting? Is not just animals. Is culture.
There author is a tourist in this story, albeit a thorough and dedicated one. The book is woven with indigenous stories, told secondhand by the author. He does a good job. The next Arctic book I read will probably be “the right to be cold“ to get more insights about the experience of the people who have cared for the Arctic since time began.
I love the way the author shared his thoughts and experiences as he traveled across the “many Arctics.” For each part of the Arctic is unique in its own right – whether in Norway, Greenland, Russia, Canada, or the United States – with its people, culture, animals, landscape. From whales and wolves to caribou and bears, the coverage of the lives of indigenous people of the many Arctics, and his deep appreciation and respect for the landscape and nature, the author did a tremendous job in bringing to the reader the beauty and the realities of life in the far north. I enjoyed most the parts about his time with the wolves and caribou, his time with the locals in the areas he traveled to experiencing firsthand the lives they live, and the excavations in Greenland. The book had a lot of “heart” with the author’s sense of connection and passion for and love of the land at the forefront. There is almost a sense of mysticism and undefinable tie to nature threaded throughout the book and the writing style more than did justice to the wonder of the “many Arctics” covered here. I definitely recommend the book – it was a lovely 4.5 star read rounded up to 5. Many thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.
A perfect book to read in February. This book is beautifully written and wonderfully researched.
I'm always going to be the target audience for books with sea wolves on the cover. For books that start with stories about arctic whales and arctic ice, and then move inland, to the tundra, to wolves and caribou and musk oxen. For books that center Indigenous perspectives, lifestyles, and voices.
I'm honestly a bit surprised this book isn't longer. It sounds like Shea had more stories to tell; I would have happily read at least three more chapters, if not ten.
"Seen against other changes unfolding in the far north, including the greening tundra, melting sea ice, and burning forests, the unraveling of the Bathurst [Caribou herd] appeared almost like symptoms of dementia. Like the landscape forgetting itself and its stories."
"Somewhere out on the barren grounds I realize I have only been thinking of the people—of what will happen to them if caribou herds crumble. Suddenly I am overwhelmed with worry for the land itself."
[Five stars for a trek across the not-so-frigid north, and for another tangible reminder of all the stories and the essential landscapes we have left to lose.]
Thanks to bookbreakuk for sending a proof copy to review.
Neil Shea travels the Arctic and explores the changes taking place to the wildlife, environment and Indigenous people.
Very well written, this is an accessible look at the impact of climate change and changing human activity on a region that can feel untouchable and frozen in place.
The chapters focusing on specific species were my favourite but it was interesting to hear the views of various Indigenous people - especially as many of them did not want to talk about climate change.
One thing did bother me, and that was related to the collapsing caribou population. A hunter mentions more of them being ill in relation to a kill having tumours. And yet neither he nor the author seem to consider either keeping the animal or taking a sample to be studied. To be honest, despite hunting caribou being a way of life, the didn't seem that bothered about it's survival as a species.
Overall, an engaging glimpse of life in a rapid changing landscape.
A beautifully written book that expounds upon the author’s connections with the land and people of the Arctic. Neil Shea never loses sight of the past, the present, the indigenous groups, economics, and the environment. His journeys take the reader from the North America continent to Greenland and then the Old World. He and those he befriends realize the impacts caused by climate, shifting populations and industrial endeavors, but even to mention those factors in conversation seem to manifest the dangers to the culture by bringing them closer. The old ways gave and still give meaning, and they are constantly threatened by what is occurring. He brings some truthful “magic” to their memories and way of life in his descriptions of people, the land, the light, and wildlife. This book will stay with me for quite a while. Highly recommended. Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing this title.
This is an exploration of a rapidly changing Arctic. Listening to the audiobook feels like traveling alongside Shea as he observes wolves on Ellesmere Island, joins Indigenous hunters in Alaska and across the Canadian north, and follows the shifting patterns of caribou and other wildlife. His narration adds a calm, steady presence that deepens the sense of place. The book blends natural history, climate science, and personal experience to show how the Arctic is transforming in ways both subtle and dramatic.
What stands out is how Shea captures not only the environmental changes but also the human stories intertwined with them. The people who live closest to the land provide perspective on traditions, resilience, and the challenges brought on by warming temperatures and geopolitical pressure. The writing feels intimate and vivid.
🐻❄️A quick non-fiction read (with a map at the beginning). 🐻❄️Many of the chapters started off as pieces for National Geographic, and the strongest chapters reflect that collision of place, people, and wildlife. 🐻❄️My favorite quotation from the book was from a very unexpectedly sad chapter about excavating a Norse graveyard: “And a parent's mind is never a rational place. It's a labyrinth of what-ifs and could'ves and nightmares that will probably not come true but that still enjoy a visit, asking for a little of your attention, inviting you to imagine the worst.”
🤔Sometimes I felt a little confused about where exactly he was and I had trouble keeping some of the different areas straight in my mind. I found myself looking things up on Google maps a lot.
Absolutely loved this book -- these fascinating and beautifully-told stories are packed with wisdom. Profound and moving. In prose that shines with insight and astute observation, the intersecting stories of people, animals, and the land come to vivid life in these pages. Shea's brilliant writing also offers clear-eyed and respectful meditations on the meanings of community and belonging in times of upheaval, in past, present, and future. In these stories, we see the life of the Arctic not only as central to the environment and geopolitics but, most importantly, for what it means to be human in living relationship to the more-than-human world.
Some things I learned from Shea's stories of his travels around the Arctic: The Inuit peoples survived in and now populate Greenland whereas the Vikings (Norse) who lived there simultaneously from about 1000-1450 AD died out, forgotten by the rest of Europe, until a 1700s missionary ship showed up and couldn't find any Norsemen.
The white wolves of the Arctic are rather friendly or at least indifferent to humans.
Alaska should be called The First Frontier not The Last Frontier. it was here that humans, following the caribou, crossed over into North America. Caribou populations are currently in trouble.
American Neil Shea, co-creator of the podcast Unfinished, writer, journalist for National Geographic has written a revealing, alluring portrait of the Arctic in Frostlines: A Journey Through Entangled Lies and Landscapes in a Warming Arctic. Anyone who has connections to the outstanding NG has my attention immediately. In an era where climate change is steadily destroying so much of the earth it is refreshing to read Shea's observations as he sojourns with wolves, whales, hunters, caribou and others. He reveals there is light, hope in darkness. My favorite was his encounters with the Fosheim white wolf; intelligent, staking their claim in their world and simply unforgettable.
I've had a fascination with the arctic and colder climates for a long time, so I jumped to read Frostlines by Neil Shea, and it didn't disappoint. This breathtaking exploration of the Arctic swept me away to Iceland, Greenland, and even The North Pole and I'm in awe of how Neil gives not just knowledge about wildlife but the land itself and the indigenous people who live there. I loved learning more about The Inuit people, past explorers and the culture that the Inuits are keeping alive. Shea has had experience of how climate change is affecting these places and actually is a call to action if nothing else. I must admit I didn't really give much thought to Caribou before reading this book, but I will definitely be researching them more. It's such a brilliant book and so informative so I'd definitely recommend Frostlines
Humbling and compelling, though the narrative feels disjointed at parts - but perhaps that’s the point? The scattered stories of all these lives and all these places still somehow connected. Whether it’s the wolves or the Norwegian border… it’s all still the Arctic, a concept I admittedly don’t often think about.
I find the section about Greenland especially poignant right now with Trump’s renewed attention in annexing the island… I appreciate the breadth of context it gives me in my otherwise narrow understanding of the place.
Beautifully written and photographed. Thanks for the map! I was enthralled by these stories from across the Arctic including several parts of Canada, Alaska in the US, Greenland, and Norway. And the stories tell us about different animals within the region ranging from narwhals, wolves, caribou, and people of different times. To have that experience with a pod of narwhal is just enchanting! Although I am more drawn to the adventures with animals, it was quite interesting to read about the examples of humans through time, in particular the archaelogical experience in Greenland.
This is a really interesting and important, albeit frightening read, about the transformation of the Arctic. The author details the changes in just the last twenty years as a result of climate change - impacting the landscape, wildlife and the indigenous people. Everything and everyone has been forced to adapt to the emerging world. I loved reading about the wolves, the caribou, the polar bears and the tundra but simultaneously I was conscious that the words were highlighting a pivotal moment of environmental and political crisis. A must read book for now and the future of the Arctic.