A sweeping memoir of seven seasons spent living in Antarctica, and what it means to push past the boundaries of the known world and your own limits.
Humans have romanticized Antarctica for centuries. To Stephanie Krzywonos, Antarctica is a place to search for answers—and something larger than herself.
Hungry for the sublime and haunted over her best friend’s tragic death, Stephanie leaves her entire life behind to live in Antarctica as an ordinary worker and tests the limits of survival. Over six polar summers and one astonishing winter, she encounters adorable penguins, colossal glaciers, and whiteout storms. In old explorers’ huts, the traces of ghosts show the extremes to which people are willing to go to find peace. In this rare account of an Antarctic winter, the sun disappears for over four months, and Stephanie reckons with Antarctica’s complicated past alongside her own grief and desire to live—all while auroras, the moon, sunrise, and darkness itself nourish her. Antarctica has come to symbolize despair and hope in a rapidly warming planet. Who truly belongs there? In a wounded world filled with so much loss, is healing even possible?
An exquisite blend of memoir, history, criticism, and science, The Blue Hours illuminates hidden histories of life on “the Ice” and the gives voice to the natives—seals and whales, ice and rock—that make up the extraordinary body of Antarctica herself.
Some books inform you; others make you feel as though a close friend is sharing the most important story of their life. The Blue Hours was very much the latter.
Stephanie’s writing is incredibly intimate. She brings Antarctica—a place most of us will only ever imagine—to life so vividly that I often felt as though I was standing on the Ice alongside her. Her descriptions are beautiful, immersive and full of wonder, but what stayed with me most was the deeply personal story at the heart of the book.
Stephanie’s account of her friendship with Soren and the grief that follows is handled with such honesty and care that I often forgot I was reading a memoir. Instead, it felt like listening to a dear friend over a couple of drinks, trusting you with the story that shaped them. It’s rare for nonfiction to feel this personal while also being so compelling.
I was also struck by how meticulously researched the book is. Stephanie effortlessly weaves together history, science and stories from Antarctic exploration with her own experiences. Every now and then I found myself wondering how some of the historical accounts connected to the main narrative, but that was only a minor point in an otherwise wonderful reading experience.
There were several lines that have stayed with me since I finished the book. “One never reaches the horizon.” What a beautiful thought. And later: “I miss Antarctica like I miss an old friend, but old friends never fully leave us.” That line felt especially moving… and true.
I also really appreciated how Stephanie places Antarctica within a broader colonial context, particularly through its connections to the Arctic. As someone who studies Arctic literature, I found those reflections especially useful.
Thank you so much to Stephanie for providing me with a digital advance copy of The Blue Hours prior to its release in December!
I found this memoir informative, heart-breaking, and oddly inspiring. The short description of the memoir is that in trying to recover from the grief of losing a dear friend to suicide, the author spends seven summers and one winter in Antarctica. However, the book is so much more than that. She weaves a tapestry together of her loss, her experiences in Antarctica, and the history of Antarctica.
What do I mean by “woven tapestry?” She didn’t break up the history, her experiences, and her memories into separate chapters. Instead, she ties them together without needing a sharp demarcation. Her own mindset gave her empathy for the trials the early explorers experienced.
I’ve read some reviews that indicated the readers didn’t like this “woven tapestry” format. They seemed to find the history and the political issues she touched on too much. But I felt that these added depth and a greater understanding of the author, her experiences, and Antarctica itself.
Ultimately, I found her detailed accounts of living in Antarctica fascinating. I also found her experiences with such profound grief enlightening. People often think the grief-stricken should just move on, and for so many, it just doesn’t happen that way.
Recommend? Yes, if you have an interest in Antarctica, and how one woman dealt with her profound grief by making Antarctica her part-time home.
I thoroughly enjoyed this poetic, moving, adventurous, lyrical, and mythological memoir. Stephanie is a talented writer who conveys her experiences with sharp, piercing, reflective, deeply honest prose. Many reviews mention the disjointed nature of the book, but I quite loved how Stephanie blended her personal adventures with the stories of Antarctic explorers from the Heroic Age. I especially appreciated her discussions of colonialism, and her insistence that we take a feminist and indigenous perspective as we work to safeguard Antarctica’s future and the future of our planet. I found her storytelling rich and informative, and her message that we see Antarctica (and the whole of planet Earth) as “not a personal proving ground, but a living place with agency” deeply needed in these times.
Antarctica must be a happening place. This is my third or fourth book I’ve read this year about it - and it’s not just nonfiction but even fictional books seem to think Antarctica offers a pithy setting.
This book has an intriguing premise - a woman grieving her best friend’s death leaves her entire life behind to work and survive in the coldest, harshest environment in the world (I love winter but I draw the line at sixteen below). That was one of the reasons I was attracted to this book and was thrilled to get an ARC (my sincere thanks to NetGalley and Washington Square Press). The book is an amazing “braiding” of “natural history, philosophy , and science . . . .” writes one reviewer.
Part of the author’s decision to go to Antarctica came from her work at the “Ranch” whose philosophy “was that immersion in wild beauty was healing” - which I think she found - as she dealt with her own depression. The other from her grief over the suicide of friend who had just announced his sexuality to his conservative community. In her moving memoir she weaves Soren into the story of Robert Scott and other explorers seemingly to shower all are explorers. Additionally the author’s Xicana (a term coined in the 90s by Ana Castillo to replace then”Ch” aiming at creating a political framework for mestiza and indigenous women marginalized by society) heritage, a source for her “otherness” drew her there too. Her desire to live fully, unfettered by the burdens society can put on us may sound a bit daunting but this aspect of the author’s memoir is a reminder to us all that we struggle with our identity too.
The author spent six polar summers and one four- month polar winter at the McMurdo Station on the Ross Ice Sheet. Her descriptions of her time there are written with such beauty - how could the world’s largest desert (albeit it ice) be so amazing! “As glaciers erode the rocks beneath them into rock flour, fine white powder that makes them blue, glacial meltwater becomes fertile, a mineral-rich milk.” OR “The day was calm and windless . . . as I watched seams and silky water . . . .” The whiteouts descriptions gave me goosebumps - having experienced these, I can imagine these must be infinitely worse there.
We also get to experience the geography, climate and wildlife Antarctica offers - who doesn’t like penguins! I enjoyed learning about the people the author lived with and those who proceeded her like Mary Odile Cahoon, a biologist and Benedictine nun, who was the first “American female scientist to research in the Antarctic waters in 1962.” She has had lovely comments. But this is all part of the author revealing much of the hidden history of Antarctic exploration and research as it is recounting its revealed history (I’m such a history nerd, I had a hard time not reading this book). The exploration of black, queer and female explorers who have remained unnoticed are given life.
This book would not be complete without a reference to Gasper-Cherry’s book, The Worst Journey in the World (which I first discovered in Kim Stanley Robertson’s The Best Journey in the World). The hardships of that exploration in early 20th C were horrendous but the finding of the penguin egg apparently seemed to make it all worthwhile. I enjoyed the author sharing her experiences with the Adélie penguins and some of the history that goes with them. I also was amazed to learn in the Epilogue in the summer 2023-2024, Antarctic tourism was as high as “between 285,000 and 450,000” cruise ship tourists. But what is disheartening is reading “Earth’s worst polluters, the nations with the most power, are invested in controlling Antarctica” though it was then heartening to read what Australians are doing to fight this.
This was a five star read for me for its open, honest, refreshing observations written so beautifully; for sharing the history and people who came to Antarctica to explore and research and without whom much of this continent would remain unknown and for whom in many cases history had forgotten or never knew; and for giving me a book I want to re-read.
Many thanks to NetGalley for providing an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review. I discovered this book as it was recommended in the Modern Mrs. Darcy Fall Reading Guide. It interweaves the history of Arctic exploration with personal experience of the author having served in an Arctic Field Station over the course of 7 years. This interweaving could be a complex thing to pull off but she really does. The descriptions of the landscapes, wildlife and the cosmos are quite beautiful and go beyond the obvious surface. It also includes the theme of healing and forgiveness of self following the suicide of a friend. My impression is that she worked on this book in various iterations over the course of many years which shows in the depth and detail of the various historical, astrological and cultural vignettes. It’s interesting the extent to which Antarctica (or the bottom of the world) was referenced in literature and mythology prior to it even having been explored. Part of the book’s focus is the interpersonal dynamics of working on a base in proximity to people, the sense of community and sometimes the workplace drama.
It brought to mind the book Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands given the isolation and gender composition of those working. One of my favorite documentaries is set there as well which would be complementary to reading this book in order to see what she was describing.
I truly enjoyed The Blue Hours by Stephanie Krzywonos, finding it to be a thoughtful blend of memoir, science, culture, history, and conservation. Krzywonos book weaves all of these genres together, while reflecting on her six summers and one winter spent working in Antarctica. Having worked as a janitor in Antarctica myself, I especially enjoyed reflecting on my own experiences while reading about hers. Knowing that our time on the continent overlapped made the book feel even more personal, and I found myself wondering whether our paths might have crossed.
I particularly enjoyed learning about Antarctica’s adventurers and explorers, specifically the lesser-known figures whose stories deserve more recognition. The book also explores the continent’s scientific and cultural significance and the importance of conserving its remarkable and fragile environment, and questions whether we’re doing that.
Additionally, I admire Krzywonos’ courage in sharing her personal story so openly. She doesn’t shy away from the difficult or uncomfortable parts, which gives the book an honest and vulnerable perspective I appreciated and can relate to. Her willingness to share the good alongside the bad makes the book feel authentic and adds depth to its exploration of both Antarctica and her own experiences.
For me, The Blue Hours was both a chance to revisit a place that holds personal meaning and an opportunity to discover new perspectives on its history, visitors, and future.
Thank you to NetGalley, the author, Stephanie Krzywonos and Washington Square Press/Atria for the advanced readers copy for my honest review.
The Blue Hours is a sweeping, introspective memoir in which Stephanie Krzywonos chronicles seven seasons living and working in Antarctica — six polar summers and one rare, brutal winter. At its core, it’s about grief, extremity, survival, and the search for meaning in one of the most unforgiving places on Earth.
I really enjoyed The Blue Hours. The history of the polar expeditions was one of my favorite parts — the key players, the different attempts, and the strong sense of urgency with the explorers to get there. At times, the book seemed to jump between the grief of losing Soren and the stories of the early explorers. It didn’t detract from the memoir, but the transitions or the timing sometimes felt odd.
Having read many books about the Arctic, I found it fascinating to finally immerse myself in Antarctica. The auroras, the brutal temperatures, the wildlife — and the penguins, especially! More than once I stopped reading so I could look up the whales, seals, and penguin species she described. The natural world is truly amazing, and the author did a wonderful job describing it.
Even with the somber tone — grief, self‑harm, darkness (figuratively and literal) — I appreciated the author’s ability to find moments of joy, and maybe even a bit of peace, in the polar night. Those glimpses of peace & joy over small things helped me connect.
This is a lovely, well researched book & I'm very appreciative of receiving an advanced copy.
There is such a thing as too many good ideas. Unfortunately, an example of this is Stephanie Krzywonos' The Blue Hours. The book is marketed as part memoir where the author tries to recover from a friend's death and ends up signing on for multiple tours in Antarctica. However, this book is also a mixture of history, climate change, sexism, pollution, international treaties, race, and, thankfully, penguins. This is too much for a 1,000 page book, let alone one just over 300 or so pages.
All of these topics are interspersed throughout the narrative and not in a way that made sense to me as a reader. We jump from history back to her earlier life, then to a time she is in Antarctica. Each of these topics feels, at best, underserved and, at worst, badly misleading. As an example, Krzywonos quickly discusses the (possible, but probably not) "discovery" of the North Pole. She focuses mostly on Matthew Henson and does her best to disparage Robert Peary. Now, there is nothing wrong with that viewpoint as I wholeheartedly agree on the whole. Henson is a much easier figure to like. However, there are books upon books looking at the race for the North Pole and Krzywonos' analysis is overly simplistic to the point of feeling misleading to me.
While a one-off like that would be an annoyance, this is not the only time the history in this book is shortchanged with a clear aim at focusing on problematic elements of polar explorers. Again, they are legion, and anyone who has read extensively on polar exploration can list them relatively easily. However, Krzywonos herself brings up that her analysis of them is predicated on presentism. She waves away criticism of this bias in one paragraph. Then we are off to a different topic.
While this is just an example within the history portion of the book, I find the problem permeates the whole book. There is a good story (or two) in here, but Krzywonos has buried it under too much of everything else. In the end, the book feels more like a lot of axe-grinding instead of a celebration of the beauty of Antarctica and recovery from tremendous loss.
(This book was provided as an advanced reader copy by NetGalley and Atria Books.)
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing a free digital review copy. All opinions are my own.
This book did not deliver the experience I expected.
Much of the narrative centers on the author’s severe depression, suicidal ideations, and the emotional aftermath of losing a friend to suicide. While those themes are deeply personal and important, they ultimately overshadowed the memoir itself. Less than half of the book actually focuses on her day-to-day experiences living and working in Antarctica.
The rest felt scattered between acronyms, metaphors, polar lexicon, feminist and sexist commentary, environmental messaging and non-chronological retellings of earlier Antarctic expeditions such as the Terra Nova Expedition. There have already been countless books written about those expeditions, and if I wanted a historical account, I would have chosen one directly.
The author clearly wanted to raise awareness about humanity’s impact on Antarctica’s ecosystem, but I did not think it was done in a coherent or compelling way. I love nature and animals, but that is not why I picked up this book. I wanted to read about her firsthand experiences in Antarctica, not extended passages about whales, penguins, huskies and the many animals harmed or abandoned throughout Antarctic history.
The book also repeatedly detours into discussions of Māori beliefs, Greek mythology and the meanings of various words. While I understand the author was likely trying to add philosophical or cultural depth, these sections often felt unrelated to the memoir itself and pulled me further away from the Antarctic experience I was hoping to read about.
Overall, the memoir felt unfocused and very different from how it was marketed.
This book was chock full of really interesting recent info about working at McMurdo Station in Antarctica and historical info about past explorers in The Heroic Age. The author had obviously done a ton of research on history, various aspects of exploration, climate change and the seasonal challenges of getting to and living in Antarctica.
The parts of the book that didn’t work so well for me were when the author suddenly segued to memories from her college years during which her best friend committed suicide. She had lingering grief as well as guilt about whether she had been somewhat responsible for his decision to commit suicide. I understand that these episodes were part of “The Blue Hours” and that this trauma was part of the reason she chose to go to Antarctica in her quest for self-discovery. However, that part of the narrative was not logically or seamlessly integrated into the Antarctica experience. It was actually quite jarring at times when she flipped back into that era.
It’s a very ambitious memoir which I found quite informative regarding both the history of Antarctica experience and the current conditions and challenges.
When I read about this book I was very excited to read it. I lived the idea of reading about a woman finding herself in Antarctica. I love learning while I read so I was looking forward to that as well. However, the actual project is a hodge podge of indecipherable meaning. Yes, the author is trying to heal and find her path after losing her best friend to suicide. However, the memoir does not follow only that line. We deal with the author's depression, how she feels she is treated poorly because of her gender and race, how she doesnt know what she wants to do with her life, and so much more. Maybe I just couldn't connect with these themes even though I am a woman- but it felt like a blanket was being thrown out to try to cover all big ticket themes. These themes also included climate change, endangered species, pollution and SO much random research I felt I was reading a textbook at some points. The author used some beautiful language, but the book is just too all over the place for my liking.
I really wanted to like this because the premise sounded so interesting and I wanted to learn about Antarctica. However, it tried to do way too much and it was so hard to pick out the good stuff. I wish the book could have been an account of the author's time in Antarctica interspersed with the context of her grief over her friend plus a little bit of insight on how these things affected her worldview, and sure, some penguin facts too. What it was instead was the above plus the history of a bunch of polar explorers who I couldn't keep straight, every geo-political treaty and organization, random mythology, and every single thought or mediation the author has ever had in no particular order-- all while trying to solve racism and sexism and climate change. Yes, all these things are important and deserving of attention but the readability of this book would have benefited from some tightening of the scope. Thanks to NetGalley and the author and the publisher for the opportunity to read this ARC.
I received this book from NetGalley to read and write a review. I did see others not like it, but I personally kind of like this it was laid out they book with her Antarctica parts and her other life experiences. I feel Stephanie did a wonderful job showing the reader what it can be like in Antarctica. I personally really liked the parts that showed her job there and what it was like for a woman. One part that stood out to me was how hard wintering was. I really also am a big science nerd so getting all those parts and learning more was interesting to me and kept me engaged. This novel covered some very hard topics and I think Stephanie did it justice and I could see how parts of it and writing may have helped heal her. I could tell when reading how much research went into this book. I will say I personally liked that we would hop around as a reader from her trips and to past experiences she had.
The Blue Hours details the authors several summers and one winter in Antarctica at McMurdo Station. Stephanie ends up there following the death of a friend that’s she’s having trouble coming to terms with. Antarctica seems a good way of escape, to find herself and make peace. Her Antarctic story is intertwined with reminiscing of her friend Soren. If this was the entire story, I would have loved it. However, she also brings in several stories of polar exploration. I personally find Antarctic subject matter extremely interesting. I’ve been to Antarctica, I’ve read several books on Antarctica exploration. But adding the exploration aspect to this book seemed to muddy the waters- there was just too much going on. For that reason, I can only give it 3 stars. Thank you to NetGalley, the publisher and the author for access to this ARC.
I really struggle with giving a memoir a lower rating, but I think this set out to do too many things in one book. I really appreciated the history that was presented and commentary on things like the impact of climate change on this last great unexplored corner of the globe, but I was expecting more of an immersive journey into day-to-day life. I feel like maybe the marketing for this book oversold the part that I really wanted to read about, in favor of trying to touch on too many subjects. At some point, it felt like the author was checking boxes, instead of organically sharing her experiences. It definitely gave me a jumping off point though for topics that I may want to explore more in depth in the future.
The Blue Hours focuses on the author's time working in Antarctica and her motivations for doing so, along with the history of previous Antarctic expeditions and developments. The author is obviously very passionate and has beautiful writing.
Krzywonos touches on many topics throughout the book: astronomy, mythology, anthropology, etymology, religion/spirituality, art history and technique, psychology, philosophy, knowledge and culture from many different Indigenous groups, and more. This is all on top of lots of names and the expected discussions of climatology, the evolution of racism, sexism, and homophobia in the scientific field, etc. I think this variety is both a strength and a weakness; a lot of the information is so deeply interesting, but the delivery often ends up feeling tangential and I struggled to stay engaged. Some brevity would make certain statements or stories more impactful and enjoyable.
I was very intrigued by how affected many people are during and after their time in the Antarctic. There are several physical or mental conditions one can develop in the unique conditions, and the return home can be challenging. The continent is incredibly isolated, but those working there live in very close quarters. The author reflected on how loud the city sounds were after being away for months and how much longer her commute and errands took.
This was really touching and interesting, I think it just needs to be more streamlined and/or organized. Thank you to NetGalley, the author, and the publisher for the opportunity to read!
This is such a beautiful memoir. I really had to sit and think about it after finishing.
We follow the author as she works for several years at McMurdo station in Antarctica, where we meet penguins, seals, familiar and unfamiliar explorers, like the first Black and women explorers to set foot on the continent. If you're a fan of "Wild" or like arctic history books like "The Terror," you'd enjoy this too.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC electronic book. Another hit and miss for me. I was hoping for so much more about the authors experience while living I n Antarctica. While there was some enlightening information about life there, I found the unexpected jumps to past South Pole explorations and also to her college life with a friend’s depression and then suicide to be misplaced. I think organized a little differently I would have been able to finish.