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Alone (1938)

di Richard E. Byrd

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When Admiral Richard E. Byrd set out on his second Antarctic expedition in 1934, he was already an international hero for having piloted the first flights over the North and South Poles. His plan for this latest adventure was to spend six months alone near the bottom of the world, gathering weather data and indulging his desire "to taste peace and quiet long enough to know how good they really are." But early on things went terribly wrong. Isolated in the pervasive polar night with no hope of release until spring, Byrd began suffering inexplicable symptoms of mental and physical illness. By the time he discovered that carbon monoxide from a defective stovepipe was poisoning him, Byrd was already engaged in a monumental struggle to save his life and preserve his sanity. When Alone was first published in 1938, it became an enormous bestseller. This edition keeps alive Byrd's unforgettable narrative for new generations of readers.… (altro)
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In 1934, the author headed to Antarctica to spend a few months on his own inland (while people he was working with were a ways away, and they were in radio contact on specific days/times), while taking weather readings at various times throughout the days. They had built him an underground shelter to live in. In June, as it got colder outside, things started to get dicey for the author. This book includes his memories, as well as some excerpts from his diary while there.

It took a little bit to get going, as I wasn’t as interested in the technology in how they built his shelter and such, but once it was built and the rest of the crew left Byrd alone, it got much more interesting. The cold, oh, the cold! Described very well. (Of course, it’s relative when anywhere from 0 to -30F was “warm”! The coldest day was -83F) He was there over winter, so between April and October (this book covers April through August when he was on his own). It read in kind of a conversational tone, which I liked. ( )
  LibraryCin | May 8, 2020 |
A harrowing experience and a hard book to write afterwards.
Byrd bears his inner most feelings when he almost died. ( )
  michaelwarr | Mar 19, 2014 |
good story about awful conditions ( )
  mahallett | Jul 5, 2013 |
An incredible account of one man's will to live under nearly impossible odds. Timeless. Brings to mind "Unbroken". A very good read. ( )
  GTTexas | Apr 26, 2013 |
SUMMARY
In 1934 Admiral Richard Byrd set up an observation station near the South Pole "where weather is born". The original plan had been for a three-man team to occupy the base but seeing how short the supplies were, and yearning for introspection, Byrd made the decision to stay there alone. This book is an account of the six months he spent in the polar night, without sunshine or the warmth of human companionship. We are with him as he struggles with the brutal cold, his loneliness and the realization that his only source of warmth is slowly killing him.

REVIEW
I picked up this book at a Friends of the Library sale. I knew absolutely nothing about Admiral Byrd but as I browsed through its pages I was immediately taken with his lyrical prose. Even though it was a far cry from my normal reading fare, I purchased the book and brought it home, telling myself it was the perfect book to read in winter. I fit this book into my Travelogue category although it's really more of a memoir.
Reading this journal made me physically cold. I could not get warm enough. Blankets, hot baths, nothing could take away the pervasive chill I had acquired. I think I identified with Byrd too thoroughly. Honestly, how the man lived, much less slept, in those temperatures is beyond my comprehension.
It is hard to fathom a man who would want to spend half a year in a small, one-room shack buried in the snow in Antarctica. Much less, a man who would leave that shack several times a day to adjust weather machinery, even in the blinding snow. He was a scientist, an adventurer, but also a romantic, taking long walks on still nights under the stars. This journal puts the reader directly inside Byrd’s head as he searches his soul, as he witnesses the beauty of nature as few ever will and as he struggles with his own mortality.
As his health declines, the journal becomes more utilitarian and sparse. Even so, it seems to heighten the suspense of the book, to make you feel both his desperation and his hope at the same time. I found the passages where he affirms his faith to be beautifully written. He must have been a very strong man.

RECOMMENDATION:
I would recommend this book to readers of memoirs, biographies or travel books. ( )
2 vota VictoriaPL | Jan 21, 2009 |
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The horizon line was a long slash of crimson, brighter than blood; and over this welled a straw-yellow ocean whose shores were the boundless blue of night. I watched the sky a long time, concluding that such beauty was reserved for distant, dangerous places, and that nature has good reason for exacting her own special sacrifices from those determined to witness them.
Cold does queer things... Below -60 degrees... If there is the slightest breeze, you can hear your breath freeze as it floats away, making a sound like that of Chinese firecrackers.
There is something extravagantly insensate about an Antarctic blizzard at night. Its vindictiveness cannot be measured on an anemometer sheet. It is more than just wind: it is a solid wall of snow moving a gale force, pounding like surf. The whole malevolent rush is concentrated upon you as a personal enemy. In the senseless explosion of sound you are reduced to a crawling thing on the margin of a disintegrating world; you can't see, you can't hear, you can hardly move. The lungs gasp after the air sucked out of them, and the brain is shaken. Nothing in the world will so quickly isolate a man.
April 7th. The six months' day is slowing dying, and the darkness is descending very gently. Even at midday the sun is only several times its diameter above the horizon. It is cold and dull. At its brightest it scarcely gives light enough to throw a shadow. A funereal gloom hangs in the twilight sky. This is the period between life and death. This is the way the world will look to the last man when it dies.
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When Admiral Richard E. Byrd set out on his second Antarctic expedition in 1934, he was already an international hero for having piloted the first flights over the North and South Poles. His plan for this latest adventure was to spend six months alone near the bottom of the world, gathering weather data and indulging his desire "to taste peace and quiet long enough to know how good they really are." But early on things went terribly wrong. Isolated in the pervasive polar night with no hope of release until spring, Byrd began suffering inexplicable symptoms of mental and physical illness. By the time he discovered that carbon monoxide from a defective stovepipe was poisoning him, Byrd was already engaged in a monumental struggle to save his life and preserve his sanity. When Alone was first published in 1938, it became an enormous bestseller. This edition keeps alive Byrd's unforgettable narrative for new generations of readers.

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