This is one of those rare and wonderful occasions where a book that has been out of print for nearly a hundred years (at least in English; it’s a German translation, but reads so beautifully you would have no idea), suddenly re-appears and you can’t imagine a world without it. It’s made such an impact on me that I have been seeking out other tales and histories of Svalbard and the extreme north; even planning a trip to the location. (Although Lori, my wife, still needs a bit of persuading on that one!) None of the other books however have come close to this one though: Christiane Ritter’s memoir of a her time in Spitsbergen where she joined her hunter husband for a long Artic winter.
Her tale is gripping, haunting, alarming; her prose stunning: the ruinous landscape lives and breathes under the aurora; pack-ice brings polar bears, seals, artic foxes; the pre-scurvy hunters long for vitamins and only their human inventiveness keeps them sane and alive. Ritter lived till she was 103 and this was the only book she ever wrote – she probably knew it couldn’t be bettered! I highly recommend it.