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Disappearance: A Map: A Meditation on Death and Loss in the High Latitudes
Weaving together personal experience and wilderness lore, this poetic journey through Alaska and Alaskan history is “a potent map of love and loss and how we find our way back home through the landscape of the heart” (Terry Tempest Williams).
304 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1996
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Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
July 26, 2019
Nickerson combines historical reporting on disappearances in Alaska ranging from 18th century expeditions to modern aircraft flights to present day individuals. She uses these as a springboard to reflect on her personal life. I would have preferred a bit more history and a little less self-absorbed reflection, but still a memorable read.
March 15, 2011
"Ich lebe in einem Land, wo Menschen verschwinden. Alaska." beginnt Sheila Nickerson "Disappearance: A Map: A Meditation on Death and Loss in the High Latitudes" ("Das gefrorene Meer - Auf der Suche nach dem dunklen Herz des Nordens"). Dass die Autorin mit dem Wort ich anfängt, ist bezeichnend für das gesamte Buch. So gut wie alles, worüber sie schreibt, setzt sie in irgendeinen Bezug zu sich selbst.
Welche Wahrheit das ist, bleibt auch am Ende des Buches noch unklar. Jedem Kapitel vorangestellt ist eine Art "Logbuch" mit Daten, Längen- und Breitengraden und kurzen biographischen Notizen der Autorin. Ein Zusammenhang zu den Kapiteln gibt es nicht, machen nur die Egozentrik umso deutlicher.
In fast jeden der erzählten Vermisstenfälle drängt sich die Autorin penetrant hinein. Sie findet das veröffentlichte Tagebuch von Sophia Cracroft, eine Nichte Sir John Franklins, die mit Lady Jane Franklin im Jahre 1870 nach Alaska reiste.
Und beendet die Dokumentation über die Suche nach der verschollenen Franklin-Expedition damit, uns mitzuteilen, dass sie die Briefe ihres verstorbenen Vaters immer noch nicht wegwerfen konnte. Das ist nicht nur vollkommen unsensibel, sondern auch ziemlich unverfroren, in Anbetracht dieser arktischen Tragödie und der verzweifelten Suche einer viktorianischen Dame nach der Wahrheit und letzten Worten.
Abgesehen von dieser Selbstdarstellung enthält das Buch im ersten Teil viele interessante Daten und Fakten über die Arktis. Von den ersten Entdeckungsfahrten ins arktische Eis und Entdeckern wie Vitus Bering und Goldsuchern in der Lituya Bay über die Missionierung der Inuit und das Ausrotten des Schamanismus schreibt sie. Die Chronologie der Suche nach der berühmten Franklin-Expedition, die gescheiterten Expeditionen von George Washington DeLong und Robert A. Bartlett sind präzise dokumentiert. Und hier zeigen sich Sätze voller Kraft und Schönheit:
Der zweite Teil des Buches ist ein persönliches Tagebuch der Autorin, in das sie die unzähligen aktuellen Vermisstenfälle einflechtet. Und hier wird ganz besonders die Geduld selbst des gutmütigsten Lesers aufs äußerste strapaziert. Es sind tatsächlich sehr, sehr viele Menschen in den aufgeschriebenen viereinhalb Monaten verschollen, doch lesen sich diese wie kurze Zeitungsartikel, was sie wahrscheinlich auch sind. Dazwischen ist Mrs Nickerson damit beschäftigt, angehäufte Papiere auszumisten, was sie einem immer wieder auf die Nase bindet, einfach so. Ebenso wie das viermalige Erwähnen, dass ihr Sohn den Mount McKinley, den höchsten Berg Amerikas!, bestiegen hat. Und es gibt keine Verknüpfung dieses Herumkramens mit den geschilderten verschollenen Menschen in Alaska und ebenso wenig Reflexion darüber.
Die ersten hundert Seiten von "Das gefrorenen Meer" bieten einen faszinierenden historischen Überblick über die Entdeckungsgeschichte der Arktis. Ein Manko ist allerdings, dass es dazu keine Quellenangaben gibt. Als Einstieg in die arktische Lektüre durchaus empfehlenswert, aber es gibt bessere Sachbücher.
"Ich mußte wissen, wo ich stand. Erst dann konnte ich anfangen, nach jemand anderem zu suchen. Erst dann konnte ich anfangen, die Wahrheit zu suchen." (p.26)
Welche Wahrheit das ist, bleibt auch am Ende des Buches noch unklar. Jedem Kapitel vorangestellt ist eine Art "Logbuch" mit Daten, Längen- und Breitengraden und kurzen biographischen Notizen der Autorin. Ein Zusammenhang zu den Kapiteln gibt es nicht, machen nur die Egozentrik umso deutlicher.
In fast jeden der erzählten Vermisstenfälle drängt sich die Autorin penetrant hinein. Sie findet das veröffentlichte Tagebuch von Sophia Cracroft, eine Nichte Sir John Franklins, die mit Lady Jane Franklin im Jahre 1870 nach Alaska reiste.
"Dieses kleine, eigenartige Buch über einen mehr als hundert Jahre zurückliegenden Besuch in der nahe gelegenen Stadt Sitka war nur für mich veröffentlicht und dort hingestellt worden." (p.62)
Und beendet die Dokumentation über die Suche nach der verschollenen Franklin-Expedition damit, uns mitzuteilen, dass sie die Briefe ihres verstorbenen Vaters immer noch nicht wegwerfen konnte. Das ist nicht nur vollkommen unsensibel, sondern auch ziemlich unverfroren, in Anbetracht dieser arktischen Tragödie und der verzweifelten Suche einer viktorianischen Dame nach der Wahrheit und letzten Worten.
Abgesehen von dieser Selbstdarstellung enthält das Buch im ersten Teil viele interessante Daten und Fakten über die Arktis. Von den ersten Entdeckungsfahrten ins arktische Eis und Entdeckern wie Vitus Bering und Goldsuchern in der Lituya Bay über die Missionierung der Inuit und das Ausrotten des Schamanismus schreibt sie. Die Chronologie der Suche nach der berühmten Franklin-Expedition, die gescheiterten Expeditionen von George Washington DeLong und Robert A. Bartlett sind präzise dokumentiert. Und hier zeigen sich Sätze voller Kraft und Schönheit:
"Der Kampf dieser Männer zählt zu den qualvollsten Geschichten der arktischen Tragödie, und die Berichte derjenigen, die sie gefunden haben, sprechen für die schier unglaublichen Torturen, die menschliche Ausdauer und Loyalität erdulden können." (p.80)
Der zweite Teil des Buches ist ein persönliches Tagebuch der Autorin, in das sie die unzähligen aktuellen Vermisstenfälle einflechtet. Und hier wird ganz besonders die Geduld selbst des gutmütigsten Lesers aufs äußerste strapaziert. Es sind tatsächlich sehr, sehr viele Menschen in den aufgeschriebenen viereinhalb Monaten verschollen, doch lesen sich diese wie kurze Zeitungsartikel, was sie wahrscheinlich auch sind. Dazwischen ist Mrs Nickerson damit beschäftigt, angehäufte Papiere auszumisten, was sie einem immer wieder auf die Nase bindet, einfach so. Ebenso wie das viermalige Erwähnen, dass ihr Sohn den Mount McKinley, den höchsten Berg Amerikas!, bestiegen hat. Und es gibt keine Verknüpfung dieses Herumkramens mit den geschilderten verschollenen Menschen in Alaska und ebenso wenig Reflexion darüber.
Die ersten hundert Seiten von "Das gefrorenen Meer" bieten einen faszinierenden historischen Überblick über die Entdeckungsgeschichte der Arktis. Ein Manko ist allerdings, dass es dazu keine Quellenangaben gibt. Als Einstieg in die arktische Lektüre durchaus empfehlenswert, aber es gibt bessere Sachbücher.
July 21, 2022
I was fully aware of the topic of this book...just not of the way in which it would be covered. Some may find her writing poetic or romantic....I am afraid I found it plain morbid. She seems quite obsessed with these disappearances, to the point that it affects how she relates to the living. The more she obsesses, the more fearful she becomes. Physical persons can disappear, yes...but that's when the joy of knowing them, or recognizing their being, recalling the memories and meaning of their lives, should be front and center, along with more appreciation of the living things around you. When I think about the great migrations that birds make (and I do think about that,) I don't think about how many will fall on the way...I think about the grandeur of their journey and how most will make it to return the following season. Knowing the landscape of Alaska, on land and sea, the fact that many disappearances are not "officially resolved" is simply understood.
July 28, 2008
ARGH. She makes the disappearance of a colleague all about her and her angst over the metaphorical disappearance of her upcoming retirement. She also talks about being 'saved' by a book, remaining vague about what she needed saving from. When writing about people who needed saving from starvation and scurvy and bears, and who for the most part didn't get it, I think you need to leave that metaphor at home for the duration.
August 18, 2017
A Requiem: Those Lost Forever
Nickerson’s colleague, Kent Roth, along with a few other travelling companions, disappeared from sight in the midst of returning from a fishing expedition. Their Cessna went down in an area she describes as “Alaska’s Bermuda Triangle.” At first glance it appears her memoir will concentrate on the search to find Roth. But, as we quickly learn, Ross is only one of many lost to the vagaries of Alaska’s mercurial moods. So, his sudden departure is transformed into a springboard, a dynamic literary device, giving Nickerson the flexibility to explore the loss and subsequent death of Alaskan explorers, indigenous peoples, those anonymous, forgotten folks, as well as the metaphysical losses she found herself dealing with as she transitioned through a difficult phase of her life.
Nickerson wanders. As the sub-title (A Meditation On Death and Loss In The High Altitudes) of her book suggests she’s interested in far more than the disappearance of a co-worker she barely knew. For Nickerson, this was all quite personal: “I had to know where I stood. Only then could I begin to look for someone else. Only then could I begin to find the truth.” This search quickly extends to many other lost Alaskan victims. She catalogues some of the losses suffered by the early explorers of the lands and passages in the vicinity of the Bering Strait. She also mines the losses of the local, indigenous people. In a fascinating chapter she sketches how the Tlingit lost their shamans to the onslaught of Europeans who believed: “As long as the people believed in the shamans and their inexplicable power, they could not be controlled.” The European interlocutors who descended en masse among the Tlingit and other Alaskan Natives left behind far less flamboyant intermediaries – reverends, ministers, priests – all envoys of their own omniscient shaman, Jesus Christ.
And then there is the list of those misplaced Alaskan residents and visitors who are here one moment and the next – gone, in an almost rapture-like way with no trace whatsoever of their existence prior to or after their last sighting. Nickerson posts example after example of searches begun and then abandoned after resources have been exhausted, time expired, the will to find these individuals suspended as calls echo to find others who have suffered similar fates. Nickerson muses over these lost and abandoned searches, futilely grasping for explanations, reasons to explain both sides – the disappearance and the abandonment of the search. She writes: “You want to shout, No, don’t stop. Find him. Find his plane.” This plaintive plea could as well be for any of the many lost souls out there who have had countless search parties scour the lands and seas for their missing boats or planes, or just their bodies, up and vanished along some trail that no one thought you could possible get lost on. Along those lines is the Franklin search of the early 1800’s where the wife of the explorer had boats deployed years after her husband had disappeared just in an effort to find clues to where he might have perished and maybe, lord only knows, find some physical evidence of where he might have sailed before evaporating like so much mist from a broth.
It was common practice for explorers of that era to leave behind physical markers, so that others, later on, might then know enough to trace their path and find them while they were still alive. These cairns often contained physical evidence and written messages, filled with longitudinal and latitudinal indicators of where they had been, where they were going, how many of their crew were left alive. However, even these important talismans failed more times than not to provide enough bits of information soon enough to save these travelers who had slipped beneath the radar.
There are no answers. Nickerson knows that and mourns for the loss of answers; she mourns for the dead, too, though after a while she acknowledges, there is only so much mourning possible. She grieves for those who continue their search, hoping upon hope to catch a glimmer of light that might point them in the right direction. It is so difficult she says for “who knows where to look? The compasses dance; the crevasses contract; the glaciers move forward, eating what falls in their jaws; and wind blows the indiscriminate snow over everything in its path.” What is left is an elegiac plaint, a hoarse cry pleading for the search to continue, in defiance of the odds or probable outcomes.
Originally published in the Anchorage Press on January 18, 2017.
Nickerson’s colleague, Kent Roth, along with a few other travelling companions, disappeared from sight in the midst of returning from a fishing expedition. Their Cessna went down in an area she describes as “Alaska’s Bermuda Triangle.” At first glance it appears her memoir will concentrate on the search to find Roth. But, as we quickly learn, Ross is only one of many lost to the vagaries of Alaska’s mercurial moods. So, his sudden departure is transformed into a springboard, a dynamic literary device, giving Nickerson the flexibility to explore the loss and subsequent death of Alaskan explorers, indigenous peoples, those anonymous, forgotten folks, as well as the metaphysical losses she found herself dealing with as she transitioned through a difficult phase of her life.
Nickerson wanders. As the sub-title (A Meditation On Death and Loss In The High Altitudes) of her book suggests she’s interested in far more than the disappearance of a co-worker she barely knew. For Nickerson, this was all quite personal: “I had to know where I stood. Only then could I begin to look for someone else. Only then could I begin to find the truth.” This search quickly extends to many other lost Alaskan victims. She catalogues some of the losses suffered by the early explorers of the lands and passages in the vicinity of the Bering Strait. She also mines the losses of the local, indigenous people. In a fascinating chapter she sketches how the Tlingit lost their shamans to the onslaught of Europeans who believed: “As long as the people believed in the shamans and their inexplicable power, they could not be controlled.” The European interlocutors who descended en masse among the Tlingit and other Alaskan Natives left behind far less flamboyant intermediaries – reverends, ministers, priests – all envoys of their own omniscient shaman, Jesus Christ.
And then there is the list of those misplaced Alaskan residents and visitors who are here one moment and the next – gone, in an almost rapture-like way with no trace whatsoever of their existence prior to or after their last sighting. Nickerson posts example after example of searches begun and then abandoned after resources have been exhausted, time expired, the will to find these individuals suspended as calls echo to find others who have suffered similar fates. Nickerson muses over these lost and abandoned searches, futilely grasping for explanations, reasons to explain both sides – the disappearance and the abandonment of the search. She writes: “You want to shout, No, don’t stop. Find him. Find his plane.” This plaintive plea could as well be for any of the many lost souls out there who have had countless search parties scour the lands and seas for their missing boats or planes, or just their bodies, up and vanished along some trail that no one thought you could possible get lost on. Along those lines is the Franklin search of the early 1800’s where the wife of the explorer had boats deployed years after her husband had disappeared just in an effort to find clues to where he might have perished and maybe, lord only knows, find some physical evidence of where he might have sailed before evaporating like so much mist from a broth.
It was common practice for explorers of that era to leave behind physical markers, so that others, later on, might then know enough to trace their path and find them while they were still alive. These cairns often contained physical evidence and written messages, filled with longitudinal and latitudinal indicators of where they had been, where they were going, how many of their crew were left alive. However, even these important talismans failed more times than not to provide enough bits of information soon enough to save these travelers who had slipped beneath the radar.
There are no answers. Nickerson knows that and mourns for the loss of answers; she mourns for the dead, too, though after a while she acknowledges, there is only so much mourning possible. She grieves for those who continue their search, hoping upon hope to catch a glimmer of light that might point them in the right direction. It is so difficult she says for “who knows where to look? The compasses dance; the crevasses contract; the glaciers move forward, eating what falls in their jaws; and wind blows the indiscriminate snow over everything in its path.” What is left is an elegiac plaint, a hoarse cry pleading for the search to continue, in defiance of the odds or probable outcomes.
Originally published in the Anchorage Press on January 18, 2017.
December 15, 2023
Two and a half stars, I guess.
The pearl in the oyster is an incident in which the Cessna carrying the author’s colleague, Kent Roth, along with a few of his companions, disappears while returning from a fishing trip. This sets Nickerson on a quest to find out about other disappearances in and around Alaska from the 18th century to the present day. These, popped out mostly in short anecdotes, are interrupted by Nickerson's sort-of-memoirs. Both are distributed in alternating disjointed dribs and drabs.
There is a bibliography for those who are interested in more but it is heavy on early twentieth century book and contains a few questionable sources. For example, a number of books listed reference two ill-fated expeditions organized by Vilhjalmur Stefansson, the Canadian Arctic Expedition of 1913–16 and the Wrangel Island expedition. There are two books by the captain of the ship, three by other members of the expedition, three books written by Vilhjalmur Stefansson, two biographies of Stefansson and one book by Evelyn Stefansson, Vilhjalmur's wife. It should be noted that Stefansson left the Canadian Arctic Expedition when things went sideways and did not actually participate in the Wrangel Island Expedition at all. Nickerson describes Stefansson as "egotistical" but still uses (Page 100) his version of how he and the rest of the Canadian Arctic Expedition became separated. In his book The Friendly Arctic, Stefansson compares life in the arctic to Hawaii. This is only valid if you believe those printed maps of the U.S. that put Alaska in a little square off of Baja.
The pearl in the oyster is an incident in which the Cessna carrying the author’s colleague, Kent Roth, along with a few of his companions, disappears while returning from a fishing trip. This sets Nickerson on a quest to find out about other disappearances in and around Alaska from the 18th century to the present day. These, popped out mostly in short anecdotes, are interrupted by Nickerson's sort-of-memoirs. Both are distributed in alternating disjointed dribs and drabs.
There is a bibliography for those who are interested in more but it is heavy on early twentieth century book and contains a few questionable sources. For example, a number of books listed reference two ill-fated expeditions organized by Vilhjalmur Stefansson, the Canadian Arctic Expedition of 1913–16 and the Wrangel Island expedition. There are two books by the captain of the ship, three by other members of the expedition, three books written by Vilhjalmur Stefansson, two biographies of Stefansson and one book by Evelyn Stefansson, Vilhjalmur's wife. It should be noted that Stefansson left the Canadian Arctic Expedition when things went sideways and did not actually participate in the Wrangel Island Expedition at all. Nickerson describes Stefansson as "egotistical" but still uses (Page 100) his version of how he and the rest of the Canadian Arctic Expedition became separated. In his book The Friendly Arctic, Stefansson compares life in the arctic to Hawaii. This is only valid if you believe those printed maps of the U.S. that put Alaska in a little square off of Baja.
May 11, 2023
My problem with this book was that it tried to do too much without completing anything and therefore left me feeling that there were too many themes revolving around each other; dis-jointed would be my one word summary.
The disappearance of a colleague on a regional flight in Alaska seems to have triggered the author to investigate other disappearances and if that had been the totality of the book it could have been better, as long as the chronology was intact which it was not here. But this book also looked at the lives and belief systems of native Alaskans that were met by explorers in the 18th and 19th centuries; this itself could have been a really interesting read but in this book it felt like an incomplete series of footnotes.
Another feature was the expedition of Frankin to find the North West Passage and the subsequent search for his party, decades later, funded and followed by his elderly wife. Again there is a full book here instead of partial stories cobbled together within the overall scheme of this book.
However, most annoying was the authors' desire to include her own life and thoughts. She is going on holiday to Antigua for the winter and leaving her dog and cat with house-sitters. Why is this relevant? It is not.
In summary, there is enough here idea wise for two or three books and those idea do not work as a single entity especially when the author wishes to add her own life into the mix.
The disappearance of a colleague on a regional flight in Alaska seems to have triggered the author to investigate other disappearances and if that had been the totality of the book it could have been better, as long as the chronology was intact which it was not here. But this book also looked at the lives and belief systems of native Alaskans that were met by explorers in the 18th and 19th centuries; this itself could have been a really interesting read but in this book it felt like an incomplete series of footnotes.
Another feature was the expedition of Frankin to find the North West Passage and the subsequent search for his party, decades later, funded and followed by his elderly wife. Again there is a full book here instead of partial stories cobbled together within the overall scheme of this book.
However, most annoying was the authors' desire to include her own life and thoughts. She is going on holiday to Antigua for the winter and leaving her dog and cat with house-sitters. Why is this relevant? It is not.
In summary, there is enough here idea wise for two or three books and those idea do not work as a single entity especially when the author wishes to add her own life into the mix.
January 23, 2024
You have to lose yourself in this book, letting it enfold you. The author is talking about a plane crash, explorers dying, rescues, and maps. She's also packing up her house to move. You're not sure where it's going. It's all about disappearing, about ceasing to exist, about memory and loss. And a "map" to figure out where you are and where you're going. As a writer, she turns to words to last, to not disappear. I could relate.
Some beautiful passages:
Some beautiful passages:
And what we fear is that--the ultimate disappearance of being forgotten. ... Can written words save? Is ultimate existence dependent on words prodding the memory of those left behind?
I grow older. Already I have been married twenty-eight years. I have seen my children grow up and away. I have left homes, jobs, communities, and books behind me, as well as many friends scattered across the country. Still I do not know the trail--if I can go forward, or if I have left enough marks along the way to be found, and rescued.
June 16, 2023
Tried to do too much, needed more editing
April 8, 2013
Amended, 2/13: 2nd time around with this book, 5 years later, and i'm somewhere between 3 and 4 stars now. I was able to follow Nickerson more freely between her own and Alaska's history, perhaps because i've been here longer, or am more familiar with abstraction (and/or am more accepting of the fact that some people DO in fact fall into oblivion when they go out to pee (see below))...whatever the reason, the poetry emerged more clearly for me this time, and the history held more meaning. Still, it didn't quite get me there, and I struggled to relate to Nickerson's narrator and her silly-sounding water bed, and just wanted her to burn the old letters and go for a walk.
from Oct. 2008:
eh.i was more excited by the idea of this book than the book itself. conceptually, nickerson is trying to parallel alaska's history of exploration, searching, and disappearance with her own life, and, well...there's just not really any parallels, and so it's hard to get where she's going with the juxtaposition of a lost 19th century ship trapped in the ice with her own tortured sorting of old letters in her attic. by the end of the book, i was just annoyed with the narrator's fairly inexplicable fear of vanishing into nothingness because she threw away a scrap of paper. she turns alaska into a death trap. kind of bizarre. i felt like she was trying to convince me that i'd fall into oblivion if i went out to pee. but with moments of beautiful poetic insight.
from Oct. 2008:
eh.i was more excited by the idea of this book than the book itself. conceptually, nickerson is trying to parallel alaska's history of exploration, searching, and disappearance with her own life, and, well...there's just not really any parallels, and so it's hard to get where she's going with the juxtaposition of a lost 19th century ship trapped in the ice with her own tortured sorting of old letters in her attic. by the end of the book, i was just annoyed with the narrator's fairly inexplicable fear of vanishing into nothingness because she threw away a scrap of paper. she turns alaska into a death trap. kind of bizarre. i felt like she was trying to convince me that i'd fall into oblivion if i went out to pee. but with moments of beautiful poetic insight.
May 1, 2017
There were good bits here, some lovely writing and imagery, but in the end she doesn't really pull it off - especially the intertwining of her own story which skimmed too much, or was too brittle. It also seemed to me much of the more mystical thoughts and beliefs are really just attempts to ameliorate the pain and melancholy of loss and disappearance, rather than fully grasping the reality of our existence: that we truly are almost all on the way to disappearing completely from this existence - yes, maybe part other's memories for a short while, and a very small few life stories/personal realities will suffer radical distortions in the process of becoming part of other peoples narratives. But for almost all of us, within a few decades we'll just be echoes on a few bits of legal paperwork here and there...
For example, interestingly she reported contemporaneously the discovery of Christopher McCandless's body, and the book was published (I assume) before his story had risen to cultish levels and his story told from many angles (often contradictory) - but most other of the people lost, who most probably had equally compelling stories truly are lost for ever.
Anyway, do read this, but don't expect too much. As a starting point to discover other writers and stories, its great, and I'm now on the lookout for sonme other books she mentioned.
For example, interestingly she reported contemporaneously the discovery of Christopher McCandless's body, and the book was published (I assume) before his story had risen to cultish levels and his story told from many angles (often contradictory) - but most other of the people lost, who most probably had equally compelling stories truly are lost for ever.
Anyway, do read this, but don't expect too much. As a starting point to discover other writers and stories, its great, and I'm now on the lookout for sonme other books she mentioned.
October 18, 2007
'It is a place of earthquake, young mountains, and volatile glaciers, a place where the pressure of frozen millenia breaks in blue ice against a stormy sea, a place where exquisitely sharp peaks throw back the weather that tries to move inland from the sea.'
'Many come to Alaska searching....They come with hope, because the spaces within Alaska are very large and the unnamed peaks of mountains and the unnamed glaciers many.'
'It was there, looking out on Mount Juneau, that I first learned that evening darkness comes from the ground, not from the sky—that shadows build up from the lowest point like rising water.'
'Glaciers know an endless hunger. Day by day they grow in depth, grinding their way inexorably toward the sea, some in a sudden hurry.'
'The population of Juneau is about twenty-eight thousand. There are no roads in or out.'
'Many come to Alaska searching....They come with hope, because the spaces within Alaska are very large and the unnamed peaks of mountains and the unnamed glaciers many.'
'It was there, looking out on Mount Juneau, that I first learned that evening darkness comes from the ground, not from the sky—that shadows build up from the lowest point like rising water.'
'Glaciers know an endless hunger. Day by day they grow in depth, grinding their way inexorably toward the sea, some in a sudden hurry.'
'The population of Juneau is about twenty-eight thousand. There are no roads in or out.'
July 11, 2011
This was a lot more rambly and poetic than I expected, although the word 'meditation' in the title should have clued me in. Don't go here if you're expecting adrenalin-pumping adventure or wilderness survival lit. Do go here if you like a looping, ambling narrative and a lot of nature imagery, as well as continuing references to interesting episodes in Alaska's history of settlement (I had a lot of dog-eared pages indicating things to look up and read more about later). Be prepared to wade through repeated episodes of the author ruminating on her imminent retirement/relocation; in other words, her own "disappearance" from the Alaskan period of her life.
April 5, 2013
I've read this book before but found a reference to it in a recent book and thought I'd take another look. It's an interesting look at people "lost" in the world through accidents, illness or on purpose. Many of the stories are from times and explorations long ago but the tie between those people lost in the 1800s or 1900s and the ability to find them today through artifacts and stories are compelling.
I own the book and think I'll keep it as many of the stories are set in the artic or Alaska.
I own the book and think I'll keep it as many of the stories are set in the artic or Alaska.
September 10, 2013
I really wanted to like this book better. Perhaps if I hadn't read that it was written by a poet, I wouldn't have been so disappointed in how poorly the collage techniques worked. There's a great amount of information in here; if you are interested in the topic, it's worth a read. If you are interested in the artistry of writing, skip it. If you are interested in the 'meditation' mentioned in the subtitle, run the other way. The meditations offered are pretty lame, substituting anything deemed since the 80s as spiritual or new-age for real meditation or careful consideration.
July 10, 2011
Somewhat more rambly and poetic than I expected (although the word 'meditation' should have clued me in) but not unentertaining. Don't go here if you're looking for adrenalin-pumping adventure. Do go here if you're interested in a lot of nature imagery and/or cogitation on man vs. nature (hint: in Alaska, nature generally wins). Also, be prepared to wade through a lot of retirement/change of life angst on the part of the writer.
February 12, 2012
Found this book in Antique Book store. Thought it would have stories like The Fourth Kind; but it was a poetic alaskan author's meditations on 'the missing'. I should have read the complete title. I liked her style and I could not put the book down.......well, I was hoping for some alien visit that never came to bare.
January 30, 2014
The author is highly skilled when it comes to putting sentences together but I failed to grasp what she was going for in this book. To me, this book consisted of disconnected meditations separated by random bullet points of missing person's reports. I'm sure this book achieves something greater but it was lost on me. I did like the frequent references to longitude and latitude.
May 2, 2014
Strange premise for a book, but I found it fascinating. I haven't been able to read a book in two days for forever, but with this one I found a way. Lots of interesting facts and things that I had no idea about. Another one of those nonfiction books that seems to be stranger than fiction. I really enjoyed the author's writing style.
November 23, 2008
Trying to stop reading this book was like trying to take an afternoon nap but there's a dog barking outside. It didn't engage me and I'd be dying to put it down but once in a while there'd be a good line or two and thusly I got dragged back in.
February 20, 2016
Some interesting history on the exploration of the Arctic and Alaska, but too confusing. She keeps revisiting expeditions, while continuing to add new stories, so it is hard to keep track of all the names and dates.
April 13, 2015
The author lived for many years in Alaska. She recounts the loss of life, of explorers, whalers, etc from 1600's up to present, intertwining her own life and experiences. People disappear, all the time, in the harshness of Alaska's terrain and weather.
December 25, 2009
This was fascinating.
October 26, 2012
Brilliant
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