The human triumphs and tragedies north of the Arctic Circle end up looking a lot like those further south. Despite its remoteness and otherworldly appearance, Wheeler continually reminds us that the polar region has been subjected to much of the same history as the rest of the world. There is a fair amount of pessimism discernible in her accounts wherein the unlucky indigenous peoples are always the losers and the same mistakes are made time and again. Yet the author also has some wisdom to offer about the circular nature of events. The geoscientists that she encounters on Southampton Island fail to acknowledge that their mapping of fossil fuel deposits is actually facilitating the continued melting of the surrounding ice, but at least there is a chance of reversing the trend if enough people recognize the sad irony that Wheeler sharply points out.
     No one is spared from accusations of hypocrisy, not even Wheeler herself, who freely confides her moral misgivings about burning so much fuel in the pursuit of examining the diminishing glaciers up close aboard a fifteen-thousand-ton icebreaker. (This she likens to knitting at the guillotine). In truth, though, we are the beneficiaries of all of those wasted hydrocarbons, as the author’s trips to Greenland, Lapland, and either side of the Bering Straight offer a rich supply of colorful characters and tall tales. Chief among these stories is her rescue by helicopter from the paws of a bear, which echoes the incredible rescue of Augustine Courtland during a 1930s British expedition to Greenland, also recounted in these pages. And lest we think that braving the frigid weather was the only harsh aspect of her travels, there is the northern cuisine of sockeye salmon jerky, reindeer with lingonberry relish, and bitter airport coffee that she feasts on without complaint.