AGAINST THE ICE: The Classic Arctic Survival Story, a book brilliantly served (even saved!) by its film

AGAINST THE ICE: The Classic Arctic Survival Story
EJNAR MIKKELSEN (tr. Maurice Michael)
Steerforth Press
$16.95 trade paper, available now

Rating: 5* of five

The Publisher Says: The harrowing, amazing, and often amusing personal account of two mismatched Arctic explorers who banded together to keep themselves sane on an historic expedition gone horribly wrong

Ejnar Mikkelsen was devoted to Arctic exploration. In 1910 he decided to search for the diaries of the ill-fated Mylius-Erichsen expedition, which had set out to prove that Robert Peary’s outline of the East Greenland coast was a myth, erroneous and presumably self-serving. Iver Iversen was a mechanic who joined Mikkelsen in Iceland when the expedition’s boat needed repair.

Several months later, Mikkelsen and Iversen embarked on an incredible journey during which they would suffer every imaginable Arctic travail: implacable cold, scurvy, starvation, frostbite, snow blindness, plunges into icy seawater, impossible sledding conditions, Vitamin A poisoning, debilitated dogs, apocalyptic storms, gaping crevasses, and assorted mortifications of the flesh. Mikkelsen’s diary was even eaten by a bear.

Three years of this, coupled with seemingly no hope of rescue, would drive most crazy, yet the two retained both their sanity as well as their humor.

Indeed, what may have saved them was their refusal to become as desolate as their surroundings…

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, who co-adapted the book into a screenplay, provides a new foreword to this brand-new edition of the classic exploration memoir, which was one of The Explorer’s Club’s 100 Best Books of the 20th Century.

Originally published as Two Against the Ice: A Classic Arctic Survival Story and a Remarkable Account of Companionship in the Face of Adversity. Translated from the Danish by Maurice Michael.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.

My Review: It was the Postscript that did me in.

Ejnar, a man I'd come to see as a massively egotistical narcissist and manipulative user by now, became an old, old man out of his time and out of his element. Writing in the 1950s about the world he had thought inviolable forty years before, he sounded like I feel in this hideous, distorted Hellscape of a 21st century, hag-ridden by preachers and haters and assorted other lowlife scum empowered by their lack of opposition to usher in Armageddon seemingly at will. His awe at a 12,000-horsepower diesel motor that powered US forces (whose presence as saviors there must have rankled at least a bit, given the impetus for his entire ordeal in 1910) to victory over the Nazi regime's outpost in Greenland, was unbearably poignant to me.

This world has never stood still. It is hard for me to remember that punch-card tabulating machines were the dernier cri, unimaginably advanced tech, to Mikkelsen. He died in 1971, so he lived to see Humankind step on a different world. A man whose life was almost lost because his technology was not up to the job of taking him to a very harsh and hostile environment here on Earth watched people walk on a place that makes Greenland look like the Riviera.

Wow.

But what made this read come alive for me, what caused the whole exercise in storytelling to be extraordinarily enhanced, was the extraordinarily beautiful and accurate adaptation. I don't like Mikkelsen any more than I did...he plays Iver's heartstrings like a virtuoso violinist...but he, as Coster-Waldau embodies him, truly reciprocates the devotion and affection Iver offers to him. That he found this in the text, that he saw the truth of their mutuality and interdependence was enough for me to overlook the sheer absurd heteronormative gloss of the thing. Days in the film version are numbered, and the count becomes astonishing...Day 793 is memorable...and a deeply affecting and effective way to offer the experience as the supreme ordeal that it truly was.

Maurice Michael, the translator whose work was largely unsung for generations, rendered Mikkelsen's prose so beautifully that there were moments I sat still and just...was...in the moments depicted. No, quoting them out of context won't do a damn thing because there's just no way to being their most important advantage...interrelationship...with them.

These photos are in the book, and are astounding to me...that they survived, that they made themselves records like this, what a miracle that must've seemed to the men of the 19th century! And I, stuck to my bed by disability, can not only reproduce the photos with a few clicks of a computer's mouse. These are the two men themselves...the resemblance of Coster-Waldau to Mikkelsen is remarkable.

The film, the story of it, is also very interesting, and I encourage you to look into it. More important to me than that is to say that I, who absolutely abhor animal cruelty in my reading, was deeply upset by the treatment of the dogs in this tale...not because it was cruel, but because it was necessary and because the men were quite upset by it on more than one level. This is not a straightforward triumphalist tale of Conquering The Elements. This is the reckoning of a life lived on his own terms delivered by the man who grew and changed, who resulted from the brutalizing battle to survive that would've killed anyone not as powerfully self-motivated and indomitably self-willed as Mikkelsen was.

Truth be told, it's just the fact that had such good luck in his filmic avatar that rescued him from my "that whole postcard thing is a stupid, bad smokescreen" judgment of his manipulative and overbearing character. Had I not been made to see the vulnerable side of him, I'd've stuck with "what a relic of a bad time" and missed the subtle and worthwhile nuances.