I intended to post this in the "What are you reading?" thread but decided I might divulge too much there. I'm itching to pose questions to those who have read The Terror...colormeconfused and Frances, would you like to discuss it? Has anyone else read it or is reading it now?

I think I have an explanation of one thing that confused me the first go-around. Did you notice that Chapter 12, Goodsir, is dated 24 May-3 June 1847? It's about Lieutenant Gore and the six men accompanying him to King William (Is)land to find the cairn and leave a message there. Chapter 13, Franklin, is dated 3 June, 1846, which would have been the June after they wintered at Beechey Island, but instead it is obviously a continuation of Chapter 12 when Lieu. Gore's crew arrived back at "Erebus," so it should be dated 3 June, 1847 -- just a typo. That threw me off because I hadn't become attuned to the changes in narration yet and I didn't remember well enough the chronology of actual events.

Anyway, that's an example of things that puzzled me in The Terror novel, so I decided to dig out Scott Cookman's Ice Blink: The Fate of Sir John Franklin's Lost Polar Expedition which I like so much that I've read it some half-dozen times now. I also reread Beattie & Geiger's Frozen in Time: The Fate of the Franklin Expedition and for the heck of it -- because of the Esquimaux angle -- I reread another old favorite, Weird and Tragic Shores: The Story of Charles Francis Hall by Chauncey C. Loomis.

Okay, I didn't read the blurbs too closely on the dustjacket -- I always peel a dustjacket off and deposit it a box where I have piles of those nuisances -- so I didn't pick up that Dan Simmons is known primarily for horror and science fiction. Actually, I have read a couple of other books by Simmons -- The Crook Factory, a novel about Ernest Hemingway, set in Cuba and pretty straightforward, and Song of Kali, set in India mostly, and anything but straightforward...I guess it could be called "fantasy" but I really don't have enough experience with that genre to know if SoK is considered such. I liked both of those books and now Simmons has blown me away with The Terror, in spite of a few quibbles I can make. But, hey! this guy is such a good storyteller that I might even be persuaded to look up some of his sci-fi. :-) Any recommendations?

As I'm wont to do, I am wandering all over the place with this post, but The Terror is really the focal point. I would love to read what you all think about it.

As I've said before, I never knowingly read a book where supernatural or non-realistic happenings occur. The first inkling I had about The Terror was when I saw an ad for the book where Stephen King(!) said he was in awe of Dan Simmons. I was already hooked at that point but a little nervous about the thing on the ice. I guess I didn't do my usual research on the book before starting to read.

Anyway, the main point I want to make is that I feel the book would have been just as interesting without the thing on the ice and without the really weird ending. I didn't like the ending at all and it almost ruined how I feel about the book. However, even though I am reading a third book following The Terror, it is still very much on my mind so that must say something.

The story about the men who signed up for the expedition, primarily for money, it seems, makes for a great book in itself. Simmons makes the reader care about the men -- at one point I found myself crying about the fate of one of them. I haven't read the other books about the expedition but did some checking on the Internet and the facts appeared to be followed closely. Since Crozier was a real person, I'm even more surprised that Simmons chose to end the book as he did.

While it was a little difficult at first to get into the story because of the different narrators and time periods, it soon became easy to follow and was even more fascinating because of the way the story was told.

There is much more to say but life is calling. I'm so interested to see more discussion.

Anyway, the main point I want to make is that I feel the book would have been just as interesting without the thing on the ice and without the really weird ending.

The ending! I was about ready to roust out Simmons and ask him, "Why on earth did you take it that direction and leave it there?"

But on second reading, when I knew what to expect, I began noticing and admiring Simmons's method a bit more. I actually enjoy good horror stories, as long as I know what I'm getting into. Also, I vaguely recognized some of the situations he put the Terrors and Erebuses (lifting Simmons's own terminology for the men of those ships), and that set me off trying to track down where I had read or heard those things. I'm almost positive that one of his inspirations was Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym -- I remember the killer polar white bear in that story because Poe set his tale in the Antarctic where there are no bears! Hmm, and the Second Venetian Carnivale: the Erebus crewman who instigated the disastrous seven-room maze had lived in the United States and had read Graham's Magazine -- wasn't that the magazine Edgar Allan Poe edited? Is there an actual story of Poe's that has something like that in it? It's been years since I've read Poe's short stories so I'm not sure, but I seem to remember something very similar in one of them.

Since Crozier was a real person, I'm even more surprised that Simmons chose to end the book as he did.

At Simmons's web site, read his review of The Terror (scroll down on the page I linked), which I found especially interesting because he mentions that the Franklin Expedition tragedy "haunts" Canadian literature. The Arctic Grail by Berton is another longtime favorite of mine.

On the other hand, though, I've read that British historians and other writers were more reticent (until rather recently) about this disaster because it was seen as a profound embarrassment. Perhaps so, but it is such an engrossing mystery that even they have been coming around more to it as time passes and the ignominy wanes.

Indeed, I have read Barrow's Boys by Fergus Fleming -- it's a really good account. I had no idea that Celia Johnson was of that family.

At Simmons's web site, read his review of The Terror...

I first saw the book listed on the local public library's website for ordered books, but when I saw that the author was Dan Simmons, I decided I would skip it. It's not that I have anything against Mr. Simmons, but I knew what type of novels he is best known for writing and decided I wasn't that interested. For some reason, though, when I was browsing the Amazon bookstore, I clicked on the book when it came up as being something I might be interested in reading. When I started reading the reviews from readers, some of whom were avid fans and some of whom had never read Dan Simmons before but were in absolute awe of the book, I decided to give it a try. Luckily, I ended up being the only person on the waiting list for the book and got it as soon as it was received from the library.

What immediately struck me about the book was Simmons' in depth yet never dull attention to detail. I thought I would be bored to tears, but I found myself drawn in through his description of unbelievably bitter temperatures and the day-to-day life of being frozen in place, not for months, but for years. I found myself wondering about the type of men who would willingly place themselves in such peril and what type of mental strength they would need to endure months of darkness.

And before I forget, Frieda, it's my personal opinion that the Second Venetian Carnivale segment was inspired by Poe's The Masque of Red Death. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. It has always been one of my favorite Poe stories.

I have to admit that when I was reading the book, there was something niggling in the back of my mind that I have either read something very similar to it (the ship frozen in the ice in the polar region and crewmen being attacked by a creature) or I've seen a movie with a similar story. For some reason, I'm thinking it was a movie, but since I always imagine very vivid visuals when I read, maybe I'm mistaking my imagination for a movie. I also found myself thinking, in imagining how each character looked, that the perfect little weasel to portray Crozier's human nemesis (I can't remember his name, but he's the one whose "friend" was the very large man) would be the actor Robert Knepper, who plays T-Bag on the television program Prison Break. ;-)

I'm out of time for now, but I will be back. I confess to being conflicted about the ending and would be interested in discussing the supernatural/horror angle with you all.

What immediately struck me about the book was Simmons' in depth yet never dull attention to detail.

The other thing that fascinates me is how Simmons took the known incidents and evidence and gave them explanations, such as the incoherent message Crozier added around the perimeter of Lieutenant Gore's earlier message deposited in the cairn (though it's believed that the Clerk Helpman actually did the transcription -- it matches his known handwriting). Another enigma: Why was the abandoned cutter with the remains of two men in it, along with all kinds of useless but "valuable" things, pointing away from the direction the whole party was supposedly going? I don't really like Simmons solution but it makes sense the way he writes it.

Now, the Thing in the ice: I really don't know what to make of this addition, except that Simmons is incorporating Inuit mythology. From all the references to Greek mythology in this story and because Simmons seems to use several mythologies in his other writing (Song of Kali, for instance), I suspect that he couldn't resist adding another myth tradition to his repertoire. I have to admit that mythology is one of my least favorite things to read, and that's probably why Simmons lost me, for the most part, after Crozier was hoodwinked, "murdered," and then nursed by Silence.

I've had people ask me, quite validly, why I like ghost and unexplained-phenomena stories but dislike mythology. The only way I can explain it that makes sense to me is that the former might have logical explanations, no matter how roundabout, but mythologies are legends that have been invented wholecloth and embroidered without logic (usually by accretion). I guess it all depends on whether and when a reader can suspend disbelief, which in the case of mythology I have a very hard time doing. I disliked that part of my cultural anthropology classes intensely -- we had to read such things as Castaneda's The Teachings of Don Juan -- that I'm probably just going to be sour when things are carried into that realm, such as Simmons did in The Terror. I would have preferred that the "Thing" was left unexplained -- I can accept no explanation better than what I think is a too far-fetched one. What about the ending conflicted you, colormeconfused and Frances?

Frieda, I think you hit the nail on the head for me when you mentioned your dislike of mythology, although you like ghost and unexplained-phenomena stories. I share this same view, and I expect that explains why I felt conflicted about the ending chapters. I would have preferred that the beast had never been explained or at best made the assumption that it was the personification of man's inhumanity to man such as what was exhibited by some members of the crew.

I also think that the ending chapters were somewhat of a shock after the very detailed, down-to-earth, factual feel of the book (except for the occasional attack by the beast, of course). It was as though the book suddenly veered off course into a realm where it didn't belong. However, I'm not saying that the end was without merit, and I liked the book so much that I didn't let the ending spoil anything for me. I think I would have just preferred that Crozier met his end in a somewhat logical way instead of his mysteriously living on in such a far-fetched conclusion.

What did you think about the end when Crozier and the others went back to Terror and found it, for want of a better word, haunted? I had never gotten the impression that there was anything evil about the ship except for some of its human inhabitants, and they were all gone. I'll confess that I didn't understand why Simmons took that approach.

I also think that the ending chapters were somewhat of a shock after the very detailed, down-to-earth, factual feel of the book (except for the occasional attack by the beast, of course).

No, everything was rocking along, though it was increasingly gutwrenching and I knew the outcome was not going to be happy for hardly anyone. Yet, I had developed such an attachment and admiration for Crozier that I thought maybe, just maybe he would make it to Back's River and eventually to the post on the Great Slave Lake, at least in Simmons's fictional account. He could've had Crozier "go native" and that would have suited me fine enough -- there were even rumors amongst the Inuits that Crozier did exactly that -- but instead I felt letdown that Simmons chose the mystical. Oh well, like you, I found the rest of the book so far above average that I can't pan it entirely for what I think is a lousy ending.

The part about Crozier finding the Terror "haunted": I didn't think that was necessary at all, and that the Terror was destroyed deliberately...no, that doesn't sit well with me at all. I still have hopes that someday some physical remains of the real Terror, or Erebus, will be discovered. It could happen, and wouldn't that be fascinating?!

In a way, I was surprised that Simmons chose Crozier as the main character/hero. Perhaps he did so because it was rumored that Crozier was the last one seen alive, and Crozier had the experience of his five other polar expeditions. But in other respects, he was an unlikely choice because, after all, he was 49 years old (in 1845); a good, solid seaman but apparently melancholic and hard-drinking. A more romantic writer than Simmons would probably have chosen the documented-hero Commander Fitzjames who was only 33 (in 1845) and, quoting Scott Cookman in Ice Blink: "[he] was well-educated, aristocratic, wealthy, of good family, Church of England, fast-rising in the service -- and thumpingly, lispingly English to the core." He was said to be "the handsomest man in the navy"; he was ebullient and much admired. He was also an expert in steam-powered engines, as the Erebus and Terror were newly outfitted to be. In other words: poor, common, Irish-Protestant Crozier would not have been the natural choice for a hero (even a fictional one) in not-too-long-past days. Do you all think this is an example of our present-day enjoyment of seeing the underdog beat the odds?

Now, I have another major gripe: that gratuitous sex scene at the Platypus Pond. I didn't find that realistic, at all! What do you think about it?

I also felt that the ending came out of nowhere, but I had no problem with the introduction of mythology, because I rather like mythological motifs in my fiction. Having recently finished Campbell's Primitive Mythology, I was interested in Simmons' use of the hunter-gatherer myths. I felt rather that mythology was handled rather clumsily, coming in a clump to transition Crozier from ship's officer to shaman.

One of the reviews I read named the creature "Wendigo" and when I looked it up, I felt that it adds dimension to the story, since the Algonquin (not Inuit, I noticed) legend is that a Wendigo arises from a human who has had to resort to cannibalism during famine, and transforms into the inhuman monster you see in the novel. Knowing that, it becomes a foreshadowing device.

I felt that the story was strong enough without the excursion into mythological monsters, and got rather impatient with this shadowy Bigfoot during the realistic parts of the novel. But Simmons actually merged several different ideas into the book, until at the end I'm not quite sure what all the messages were! The realistic portrayal of the hardship and despair of the trapped crew was horrific enough, both the physical aspects as well as the social. Then the culture clash, paranormal events, and ending with an enviro-message. My goodness! I actually felt that after merging so many different things into the book, that he wrapped things up rather neatly. In comparison, I thought the ending to Olympos was a major disappointment.

I happened to read it immediately after Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace, an interesting juxtaposition of 2 speculative novels based on real events and people.

I took a look at the synopses of Hyperion and Ilium and Olympos. As impressed as I am with The Terror, I'm not sure I can make the leap into "large-scale space opera," as Publishers Weekly calls Simmons's sci-fi endeavors. Now, if he manages to make them realistic in the way he did with the Franklin Expedition story (does he?), I might be able to get into those kinds of stories.

Hmm, I, too, discerned an "enviro-message," yet I'm not entirely sure what that message is. I could use some help if anyone would point it out to me.

I think the most fascinating part of the whole Franklin Expedition disaster is its cause, which according to the most recent writers I've read (Beattie and Cookman) can be blamed on Goldner's tinned provisions which probably gave the crews of the Erebus and Terror debilitating doses of lead and deadly botulism. Simmons wrote this into his story -- the physicians' suspicions, etc. -- but naturally enough he couldn't go into great detail because then he would've been giving them credit for suspecting things that they simply had no way of knowing, although they knew something was horribly wrong. Just imagine their perplexity and fear.

I suppose that's the way most mythology gets started, anyway -- as an explanation of the inexplicable. In that sense, I can see how mythological beasts are constant presences on the peripheries of daily life; and then when calamities occur, the causes are these beasts getting up close and personal, so to speak. That's formally called allegory, I think, though I'm really awful at interpreting symbolism, so I may just be blowing hot air. "Hey, at least I'm trying!" was my usual plea to my literature teachers when I was muddling around trying to relate to arcane (in my mind) stylisms.

I'm a bit surprised no one has responded to my comment about the Platypus Pond. I thought that scene stuck out in its implausibility, but maybe I'm the only one who thinks so. The later sex scene with Crozier and Silence, I can accept better because Simmons was in the imaginary realm at that point. And there's another scene that, though I found it unpleasant, it was entirely appropriate in its context. I'm not puerilely bringing up those scenes -- or at least I don't intend to provoke -- but I thought it was interesting how Simmons handled them. They are a bit too graphical for my taste, and I'm thankful there weren't more of them because that sort of thing doesn't seem to be his forte, anyway.

Do you think this book, The Terror, will catch on with general readers or do you think it is more for a niche audience?

I don't think I can do justice in replying to some excellent observations and questions in those emails. But if I can coax lurkers to post here, other readers of this book probably can do a much better job.

I'm happy to post some answers to general inquiries, though.

Unfortunately I don't remember exactly what spurred my interest in the Franklin Expedition because it must have been at least forty years ago. What interested me most: it was such a mystery but one that could possibly be solved at some point. The Beattie, et al, book Frozen in Time and Cookman book Ice Blink did a lot to explain it, I think -- the plumbism and botulism theories, in combination especially, seem sound.

Yes, I expected historicity in Simmons's novel, and I'll admit disappointment in the mythologizing. But, though Simmons pursues a mystical tangent, I was enthralled with the realistic aspects of his story enough to forgive him -- somewhat. As a horror story, it's quite something, in my opinion.

Please, lurkers don't be bashful. Your opinions and interpretations are every bit as legitimate as mine.

You brought up the point about the sex scene at Platypus Pond, and I agree that it appeared to be gratuitous. I thought it seemed oddly out of place and somewhat bizarre, to be truthful.

You also asked the question whether the novel will catch on with general readers. I don't think so. For one thing, I think the size of it would intimidate the casual reader. I also think that Simmons' incredible knack for detail might be offputting for those who just want the meat of the story and not all the background. It's a shame, though, since his intricate and in-depth research really shines in the book and is part of its intensity.

I, too, didn't like the way the book ended although I usually love books that weave in the mythological. As Donnamira suggested, I think the transitions didn't work. Crozier's second sight musings are too clumped. Although certainly the delirium tremens are the time to have visions. (James Lee Burke artfully uses the DTs to turn In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead from a hard-boiled detective novel to mystical realism.) It just feels thrown in without preparation. I did like the non-magical parts of tale at the very end, but it didn't feel like the same book I'd been reading.

I was also a bit disappointed that we had the imagined details of almost every death, but never learned, other than vaguely, what happened to the two non-Hickey groups that left Rescue Camp alive. I get that we learn the Male et alia group make it back to the Terror and sail south, but Simmons creates more unexplained mysteries in the locked hatches and the 3 inch long teeth. Or are we to believe that the surviving sailor was beginning the transformation into a Wendigo before he died?

Freida, I only kept rough track of the dates and missed the wrong date on the Franklin segment. Would that date be intentional on Simmons part? After all, Franklin wrote the wrong date on the note he left in the brass canister.

The sex scene on Platypus Pond struck me as adolescent, which these two were not. Could be 19th versus my 21st century perspective, however. Still and all, I think it was to demonstrate that the Lady Jane Franklin and her niece were unusually progressive women. Sir John comes across as a dolt, but not a bad man to have such a wife.

Crozier vs. Fitzjames as hero didn't bother me. I'm prejudiced that way, I never expect beautiful men to be interesting. And Simmon's hero in Ilium and Olympus was a middle-aged balding guy without a lot of muscle, for what it's worth.

Still thinking about this one. It was interesting to read it as the temperature here ramped up. It felt wrong, somehow, to turn on the air conditioning. And as I said over in the general reading thread, I was counting my blessings as I read.

This novel also had me reflecting on the consequences of modern society's extremely risk averse culture. A lot of the very good have come from inventions that initially killed a lot of people. Canned foods turned out to be a very good thing. Could tin cans have survived in today's litigious environment to become the safe storage we know today? Our governments wouldn't tolerate the risks those sailors took, either. Will progress slow to the incremental, now, rather than leap forward?

I get that we learn the Male et alia group make it back to the Terror and sail south, but Simmons creates more unexplained mysteries in the locked hatches and the 3 inch long teeth. Or are we to believe that the surviving sailor was beginning the transformation into a Wendigo before he died?

Chris, the dating thing is in the boxes below the chapter numbers and titles, along with latitudes and longitudes. Chapter 12 is dated 24 May--3 June, 1847. Chapter 13 is dated 3 June, 1846, though it is obviously a continuation of Chapter 12, though this time concerning Franklin. I really think it's a simple typographical error; otherwise I don't think it makes sense.

Crozier vs. Fitzjames as hero didn't bother me. I'm prejudiced that way, I never expect beautiful men to be interesting.

Franklin has been painted as a doddering old fool for so long. I agree that he couldn't have been too idiotic because Lady Franklin obviously revered him. The niece, hmm...I don't have a favorable impression of her, as she was characterized by Simmons, but also how she seems to have been in real life, though I realize that she might not have been accurately portrayed in biography/history, either.

Excellent point, Chris, about risk taking. I'll think some more about that.

Have I ever mentioned that a neighbor built an igloo one very snowy winter at Seven Springs Resort in PA? It really did get warm enough inside with 3 or 4 people to take jackets off. Alas, I was never invited to get naked with him, so I cannot speak to Lady Silence's comfort under those conditions.

Yeah, part of the appeal to me of The Terror is my long-held fascination with seafaring and people who have had the gumption to take risks: the adventurers and explorers -- especially the sea-goers. My favorite tales when I was a kid were Swiss Family Robinson, Captains Courageous, Robinson Crusoe, Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped and Treasure Island, and Jack London's The Sea-Wolf. I got interested in the real-life versions, too, and I think the first of those that I read was The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst by Nicholas Tomalin and Ron Hall (I knew Nick Tomalin as a fellow journalist and was greatly saddened by his untimely death).

Anyway, yes, I think your sailing pal, Chris, could find The Terror quite diverting. Port and Starboard as names for cats: Heh, I love that! Cats are good luck on board boats and ships. Dogs, unfortunately, aren't. Speaking of animals, can you imagine the expeditions with shipboard menageries of cows, goats, pigs, chickens and other fowls that were mostly kept on deck as eventual food? When horses were hauled, they were kept below deck. I don't think I can imagine the half of what the smells were like. Simmons conveyed horribly well the rat infestations on Terror and Erebus and the putrid grunge of 19th-century orlop decks. I'll say it again: the realism and immediacy of danger are some of the best I've read.

Ooh! Lady Silence's igloo. I always wondered why, since it gets quite cozy inside an igloo, respiration and body warmth don't melt the thing, and there's not constant dripping. An Alaska friend who has some experience with experimental igloo habitation told me that the ice blocks do melt and there are some drips but the melt almost immediately refreezes and produces an icy glaze that actually further insulates. I still can't imagine getting naked in an igloo, though. Chris, if you ever get an invitation, you might want to try it out!

An interesting note, I think: So far, I have run across and corresponded with only one male reader of The Terror. Here at RP, there are five of us women readers, and I know five other women who have read it. I think you pegged it, colorme, that The Terror is probably not a book for general readers, but is it surprising that women are just as apt as men to read it? Personally, I have the notion that women are likely to read anything and everything...much more so than men. Or am I stereotyping?

I will say this, what parts of it I have read, it seems to be quite realistic in its portrayal of what happened. Probably more realistic than any "factual" account, as we know that everybody on the expedition died.

Which I think makes up part of the horror of the book. Knowing that everybody will die. That there will be no survivors.

Frieda, My first experience sailing was an impromptu midnight sail on the Chesapeake. No trip since has lived up to the thrill of that first night. I suspect it is because I have to go hours without reading while under sail. Unsupportable!

The Terror is a book that seems to have made a lasting impression on me. Even though I did not like the ending at all and thought it would have been an excellent book without the "thing" on the ice, I am so glad I read it.

There are certain things I've come to expect from a Simmons novel: well researched, great detail, an interesting cast of supporting characters who often flesh out the novel, and many references to works from literature, film and philosophy. All these things are present, and I think the author's great strength has always been in how he synthesizes them. I especially liked his sardonic use of the fictional Book of the Leviathan.

Frieda stated above: An interesting note, I think: So far, I have run across and corresponded with only one male reader of The Terror. Here at RP, there are five of us women readers, and I know five other women who have read it. I think you pegged it, colorme, that The Terror is probably not a book for general readers, but is it surprising that women are just as apt as men to read it? Personally, I have the notion that women are likely to read anything and everything...much more so than men. Or am I stereotyping?

I really think this is an anomaly restricted to sites that cater to literature with a capital "L" over anything produced in genre (as in, more females post here, and probably outnumber the male posters on literary boards as well). I've encountered a number of male readers who've read this book -- most of them have been readers who are already familiar with Simmons and will give equal time to genre as well as literary reads. I'm not implying this is a genre book (or that Simmons is a genre writer), though. It isn't, but perhaps Simmons is better known to genre readers.

The cannibalistic scenes reminded me of the film Ravenous (has anyone here seen that film?). Now I can't quit thinking about it. Gruesome thoughts for today.

Have any of you read John Clute's review of this book? I’ve attached the link in case you find it interesting (it includes a lot of spoilers, so I don't recommend for those who haven't read the book yet). Clute is always educational, but sometimes his reviews make my head hurt (such as his use of mimetic).

I figure you're right about male readers posting at other sites about The Terror. I still have run across only one additional male reader, though.

The John Clute review:

"No reader who has begun to get used to the literatures of the early 21st century should be flummoxed by the strangeness of The Terror, which seems to be an historically exact recounting of the famous doomed Arctic expedition led by the ineffably stupid Sir John Franklin (1786-1847), who caused the deaths of 130 men in his attempt to find the Northwest Passage by force..."

However, I was more interested in what Clute had to say about Simmons's writing style.

He does like to use lit crit jargon: mimetic and in medias res -- I was half expecting him to tell us about breaching the fourth wall.

"Crozier is still what one might call a victim of the wrong story, and he will not be able to save himself in any sense before he abandons, as it were, the mimetic tradition as applied to the para-mimetic exorbitance of the genuinely extreme, of a set of experiences that stretch mimesis beyond the breaking point."

Georgia, you've brought up some things that I will definitely have to think more about. That's pretty good for a book: to be still analyzing it a year later. I wonder if you will be too.

I haven't read nearly so much about these arctic expeditions as you have, though I did read Barrett's Voyage of the Narwhal (which I thought was a very introspective look at the psychology of men who choose to lead these sorts of expeditions). In one of the John Irving chapters, Irving finally gets sent on an exploratory mission for Crozier. He states he's never been happier. That gave me pause to think about what Krakauer has discussed in some of his books -- the type of men who choose to go on these grueling adventures and pit themselves against nature to test their very human limitations (and, in fact, they seem to need this as a rite of passage). I'm not sure Irving fits the true mold of one of these types, but he certainly feels the romantic pull of it.

I agree about Franklin. If he'd been successful, history would certainly have judged him in a more favorable light. I'm also struck by what Chris mentioned above: A lot of the very good have come from inventions that initially killed a lot of people. Does anyone remember James Burke's Connections series? He used to give example after example of how inventions and discoveries came to us from such unexpected chains of events such as this.

While I don't remember all the details of The Terror it seems to me that Simmons followed the "true" story very faithfully. And now I feel even more strongly that there was no need to enhance it by adding the "thing" and making up an ending for Crozier that almost certainly did not happen.

From reading Ice Blink so far, it sounds like Barrow, the naval leader, would have been most responsible for success, had it occurred. He didn't want Franklin to lead the expedition but certainly provided everything possible at the time to make him successful. I haven't read that much of the book yet so I probably should not be making such statements, though.

I was very impressed by the number of books that were on board the ships; somehow I would not have expected them to be concerned about having reading material.

Now, Ice Blink, on the other hand, is the sort of speculative history that always fascinates me. Even if Stephan Goldner was not the only cause of the Franklin Expedition fiasco, he was certainly a reprehensible enough villain to hang some of the blame on. The Admiralty, being cheapskates, also deserve a share of the blame.

Barrow would certainly have gotten a lot of the credit for a successful expedition. That's what he wanted: the icing on the cake that was his long career.

I have a soft spot for Franklin. Although he was undoubtedly too old for the expedition and perhaps not the most intellectually astute choice, I do think he was a decent fellow and his crew seemed to have admired and had great affection for 'the Old Man'. If he had succeeded, no one would have thought twice about his deficiencies. No, he had the miserable luck of several confluences: not the least of which was sailing into the waters of the Arctic archipelagos during a very warm and longer-lasting than usual summer, only to be followed by two cold years when there was barely a summer season at all. Franklin also had the misfortune of being one of the earliest to die (after the three on Beechey Island). What with tuberculosis, plumbism, botulism, and the usual crazymaking aspects of polar explorations at the time, the uncooperative weather was the biggest whammy.

Frances, the books impressed me too. I thought it was especially poignant that someone hauled a copy of The Vicar of Wakefield around with him -- it was found in the boat on the sled, along with the two skeletons. I understand the Bibles, as that would have been a common enough thing to do, but a novel...I wonder if it was the fellow's favorite.

Anyway, I found "Terror" hard to swallow, even though I'm willing to go along with magical thinking, suggestions of the supernatural, etc. I enjoy the topic of polar exploration, and Franklin's expedition is a haunting one. But the spin that Simmons put on it seemed to go just too far, pushing the envelope of credulity, in stark contrast to the facts of the story.

I think that bringing books along on a polar expedition makes perfect sense; there were such long dark periods of inactivity combined with dreadful proximity to one other during those long voyages, the sailors and officers really needed to occupy themselves. On Scott's fateful attempt on the South Pole, his crew actually published a newspaper and held educational lectures.

kkay, there were classes held for the men on the ships in reading and writing. Because it was so dark on the ships after they were beset by ice, I wonder if they could even see to read. Imagine living in such deplorable conditions with nothing to take your mind off your situation.

Frieda, I'm sure you've read everything I could recommend (I've copied down your suggestions--thanks!). Have you read Roland Huntford's book? It's one of my favorites, very readable. I also enjoyed Apsley Cherry-Garrard's "The Worst Journey in the World."

But perhaps my all-time favorite book on this general topic is Lennard Bickel's "This Accursed Land." Sir Edmund Hillary pronounced it "The greatest story of lone survival in polar exploration," according to his foreword. And boy howdy, I have to agree.

Years ago I edited a book for the American Chemical Society on nutrition and polar expeditions... It was a thrill for me, in spite of being deadly dull. Of course, with a brain like a sieve, I can't recollect whether he mentioned the Franklin expedition.

And now for an aside: My mother's name is Frieda, and her twin sister's name is Frances.

Yes, I've read a couple of Huntford's books: the one about Shackleton whom he seemed to admire, grudgingly; and The Last Place on Earth in which he expresses his resentment that Scott was an incompetent fool who failed, while Amundsen was a consummate professional who succeeded -- yet it is Scott who is the more famous. Well, sometimes the failures are more interesting.

No, I haven't read This Accursed Land, but I will remedy that as soon as possible! Thank you for mentioning it, kkay. It ought to tie in beautifully with my current Australian phase -- I'm really into that continent's explorers and adventurers.

Have you read Weird and Tragic Shores: The Story of Charles Francis Hall, Explorer by Chauncey Loomis? (I'm bouncing back to the Arctic. Well, why not? The Erebus and the Terror -- and Crozier -- made history in both polar regions.) Anyway, Hall is probably responsible for relating most of the first-hand Inuit intelligence gathered about the Franklin Expedition, including Crozier's possible survival. Hall was obsessed with finding out what happened and even 'went native' so he could spend more time in the region. As an explorer he was much savvier than his British predecessors, but he was a peculiar man. Instead of solving the Franklin mystery, Hall added another chapter to it by dying a mysterious death himself. Like the Beechey Island burials, there was an exhumation of Hall's remains and an autopsy, but... Besides not wanting to spoil things for potential readers, I can't remember the results! That does it: now I'm off to reread Weird and Tragic Shores.

Heh! kkay, don't you love coincidences like that? Frances and Frieda -- very good names for twins. :-)

I especially love reading about polar exploration in the winter. There's nothing quite so wonderful as reading about ungodly conditions while safe and warm indoors. My copy of "Last Place on Earth" is quite literally in pieces--I think that's the book that got me started. When I really get rolling, I make Mulligatawny soup in honor of Scott's last stand (I think the made-for-TV movie had Bowers fantasizing about the soup).

Byrd's oven/heater got blocked or was poorly designed, and the fumes backed up into his quarters. It's a miracle that he survived. "Accursed Land" makes Byrd's adventures seem like a day in the park, though. Just you wait.

I found the book I edited: Feeney's "Polar Journeys: The Role of Food and Nutrition in Early Exploration." It's not great reading, alas. Still, I love the convergence of two of my favorite subjects, food and ice.

In rereading this thread, I realized how much my ideas about The Terror changed with the discussion and with letting the discussion float around in my head for a while. I never came back to say that the Wendigo aspect, once I read outside material, vastly enriched the book in retrospect. The problem, of course, is that I had to go outside the novel to "get" the novel. Which, come to think about it, is why we want an education in the first place isn't it?

I have ordered a used copy of Feeney's book as it appears to be out of print.

Chris, when readers talk about the Wendigo feature of The Terror, I get glimmers of why Simmons included it. I understand that such devices can be used metaphorically -- in this case, as the unknown "thing" that was killing the men. I've been watching on the History Channel the elucidation of Beowulf and how dragons were representations of anything alien and horrible and 'out to get' people struggling to get by and make sense of their world. Presented this way, I can understand the need to mythologize, but -- as you say, Chris -- the trouble is the reader has "to go outside the novel." That's fine if the reader has the time and inclination to stick with a story that's difficult to accept and then follow through in studying to understand it. Yep, it's why we want education. Unfortunately, a lot of times I merely want to be entertained in a way that doesn't insult my sense of logic. :-)

On my TBR shelves I have a book about Shackleton that I will have to read soon. My interest never was specifically in polar exploration but rather in any work that is done to discover the past. Martin's Hundred by Hume comes to mind as a book I thoroughly enjoyed. It concerns archaeological exploration in the Williamsburg, VA area. But now that I've become so caught up in polar exploration I will look for more of the books mentioned in this thread. This is my very favorite type of book because it combines all of my other favorites -- history, mystery, biography, and science.

And, kkay, that is a very funny coincidence about the names!

Funny that you mention Ivor Noel Hume's Martin's Hundred. I have a story: I was reading it when I went into labor with my first son. I took it with me to the hospital and between pains I continued reading. I had just got to the part about 'Granny' and her scalping when the doctor decided my labor wasn't progressing satisfactorily and a C-section was in order. So I had to leave Granny and her wire hair-thingamabob, but just as soon as I knew my son was fine and I was wheeled back to my room to recover, I demanded Martin's Hundred so I could find out what Hume had construed. I've read it and The Virginia Adventure umpteen times, each, since; and my son who has never bothered to read MH still knows a lot about it.

I've read a couple of recent books about scurvy, another problem that the Franklin Expedition most probably suffered. Though they took lemon juice and other antiscorbutics, they really didn't know how and why these things alleviated that disease. The men loathed taking their doses of lemon juice, even with sugar. When the juice was still fairly fresh it was effective, but as time passed the vitamin C was destroyed -- after two years whatever efficacy the lemon juice had originally must have diminished. Oh, I almost forgot, the books are Limeys: The True Story of One Man's War Against Ignorance, the Establishment and the Deadly Scurvy by David I. Harvie and Scurvy: How a Surgeon, a Mariner, and a Gentleman Solved the Greatest Medical Mystery of the Age of Sail by Stephen Brown. (Whew! The titles of nonfiction books sure aren't pithy.) Anyone know of other books of this type to recommend?

Off topic, I know, but it's interesting how diseases ebb and flow. I understand smallpox is showing up in some places now.

Today I unexpectedly found myself in Barnes & Noble (don't you hate when that happens!) without my list of books from this thread. I asked where to find their section on polar exploration and after the nice man picked himself up from the floor he found it for me. I really wanted to find Weird and Tragic Shores or the biography of Crozier but neither was there. However, I did walk out with The Worst Journey in the World by Cherry-Garrard, which kkay mentioned, and Race to the Polar Sea: The Heroic Adventures of Elisha Kent Kane by Ken McGoogan. Elisha Kent Kane was referred to in the Beattie and Cookman books because he found the first graves so I thought his story might add some more information, but the book isn't primarily about his search for Franklin.

No disaster's a b**tard. Most, in fact, have many fathers. Somehow they mature by circumstance into menace. There is no single thing that causes this, no one moment that makes it. Each disaster results from a highly individual, dynamic, but inseparable chain of events.

Speaking of Ken McGoogan: I enjoyed his Fatal Passage: The Story of John Rae, the Arctic Hero Time Forgot. Rae should have achieved acclaim for discovering and mapping the last unexplored portion of the Northwest Passage. Instead, because he stumbled across the remains of the Franklin Expedition -- solving that mystery -- he got opprobrium for reporting the evidence that Franklin's men had turned cannibal. Lady Jane Franklin was particularly contemptuous of him. I can't say that I remember ever hearing of Rae before reading this book, so I guess it's another example of credit not going where credit is due.

Another book I read was Resolute: The Epic Search for the Northwest Passage and John Franklin, and the Discovery of the Queen's Ghost Ship by Martin W. Sandler. This book is more about HMS Resolute, naturally, but it adds more to the weirdness of the whole Franklin Expedition fiasco. Did you know that the famous knee-hole desk in our White House -- the one in the iconic photograph of young John Kennedy Jr peering out of the secret door -- was made from the timbers of HMS Resolute? It was a gift from Queen Victoria to our president (Rutherford Hayes? -- I forgot to look it up).

Chris, was the outside material you read (that helped you "get" the Wendigo aspect) about Inuit myths? If you can point me to something not too deep -- I have a low tolerance for most mythology -- I would appreciate it. I think it was donnamira above who mentioned Campbell's Primitive Mythology. I duly acquired it, and tried to read it but it's too dense for my purposes. I'm the type of reader who skips the mythical stories when they are related in otherwise straight histories, in the same way that some readers skip poetry interludes. Right now I'm reading Travelling Heroes: In the Epic Age of Homer by Robin Lane Fox. I can read with relish page after page of potsherd descriptions and how such-and-such modern place is probably equivalent to a place that Homer mentioned, but the minute Mr Lane Fox delves into the myths themselves I suddenly become narcoleptic. :-(

Carolyn, I think about all the diseases that have been suppressed just since I was a kid. I don't know of any American kids my boys' ages (25 and 22) who have had measles (Big Red or German, as we called them), mumps, and whooping cough. My brothers and I had all of them. My boys both had chicken pox before the vaccine was available, but otherwise the immunizations have worked. Polio, rickets, goiter, diphtheria, tetanus, scarlet fever, smallpox, etc. were of varying degrees of commonness but most people probably at least knew of someone who had suffered from them. It's scary to think that a disease like smallpox could resurge. And of course there are diseases we have today that no one or very few people had back then.

Frances, what do you mean the bookstore guy had to pick himself up from the floor? Is polar exploration considered an arcane subject? If so, he would be doubly floored that it's an abiding interest of several female readers at this book forum. Actually, as I mentioned above, I think female readers are often the biggest audience for this adventure-type book, nonfiction or fiction. Just look at Andrea Barrett, author of The Voyage of the Narwhal: she's an expert on the history of polar exploration -- her main character in VotN is based on Elisha Kent Kane.

Vee, are the Scott and Oates stories still recounted to most British schoolchildren, or would they cross their eyes if asked who these fellows were?

We read mythology as metaphor today, but I also like to think about the sort of actual events that morph into a mythology. And if myth arises out of conditions that still obtain - as in the extreme cold - it still permeates thinking. I see myth as an aspect of a culture. Even those who do not subscribe to the myth are influenced by it. How many of our own stories to we frame in terms of The Prodigal Son, or Eve and the Apple, or Cain and Abel?

For those who do like mythology and were fascinated in particular by the wendigo aspect, one of the best uses of the myth I've come across is in Joseph Boyden's horrific WWI novel, "Three Day Road".

Also, I didn't know about the White House desk being built from the Resolute. That book was also at B&N but I didn't take time to look through it.

And I exaggerated a little about the B&N employee picking himself up off the floor. He was surprised and said he liked getting unusual questions because it made his job more interesting. I don't think it had anything to do with the questions coming from a female but that honestly isn't something I ever think about. I've always read books that men read and I know this because most of my discussions about books have been with men. Other than books that are called "chick lit", I have never given thought to whether books are written for men or women but maybe I will consider that now.

Through the years I've tried to work up some interest in mythology, even going so far as to buy Mythology for Dummies to make it easy for me, but my attention span is too short to read more than a page. I'm glad there is a possible explanation for why Simmons wrote the book as he did, though. I'm wondering if The Terror would be as memorable for me if it had not included those weird aspects that made me unhappy.

I think when people refer to myths and mythology there are nuances beyond the standard dictionary definition of the latter: "the study of fictitious events, people, places, and things." And it doesn't help that the terms are often used interchangeably. Personally this is the way I break it down:

I will check to see if the Shackleton DVD is available through NetFlix; thank you Vee for that recommendation.
And a note about polar heroes. In my neighborhood (sprinkled with diplomats and international sorts) I came across a yard sale and discovered lovely framed portraits of Amundsen and his mentor, Nansen. The family (of Norwegians) was astonished that I knew who they were without requiring any explanation. The prints now reside on a bookshelf with my collection of polar books, looking very stately indeed.

Thank you, everyone, for discussing so many intriguing books and topics in this thread! I really don't know anyone IRL who shares my interest in this area.

I love it, kkay, that you recognized the prints of Amundsen and Nansen! Memory of history is so short for most people -- if they ever had any memory of historical events at all (and I'm including myself with the "they").

Vee, I don't think the ragging and mocking of maimed servicemen would be tolerated for long among Americans. Some of that went on during the Vietnam era, but it's now considered a shameful part of our history. It's more likely that the mockers, if overhead by passersby, would find themselves face down on the pavement or in the gutter.

Chris, I'd be interested to know if you think my analysis of what mythology seems to be, to me, is misguided or irrelevant. I broke it down that way because I have to admit that I'm confused when people talk about mythology -- it seems to me that they aren't all referring to the same things but, rather, lumping everything together and using imprecise terms. If I were more familiar with the subject, I probably wouldn't be as bothered.

kkay, I just read Polar Journeys and I was right: I found it immensely fascinating. It's a quite good overview, I think, of the food and nutritional problems explorers have had -- and continue to have. I am a tables nerd, so I was delighted to find the weekly menus at McMurdo Station and the food items on the Salyut-7 station. Heh! I wonder if the Russians ever get tired of cottage cheese since they have five or six fruited varieties of it. Jellied sturgeon, liver pate, quail with egg, etc. make the McMurdo menus sound prosaic. But then I'm reminded that if the 19th-century explorers could be brought back to life to witness what their modern equivalents eat, they would be flabbergasted.

I was especially intrigued by what Feeney said about Hypervitaminosis A. The Inuit have had folk proscription against the ingestion of certain animal livers. They describe the hysterical state and aberrant behaviors of people who do consume the livers. Hypervitaminosis A has apparently been a problem in both polar regions (thinking about Mawson, Ninnus, and Mertz). Perhaps other bizarre behaviors could be explained with this diagnosis.

Anyway, kkay, once again thanks for mentioning a most interesting book -- that's two for two!

I find Mawson's tale compulsively readable, but I can't say the same for Feeney's book. I'm impressed that you enjoyed it. Even though I worked on that title, I found myself drifting, and wanting more narrative--I don't take the same pleasure in tables, I fear.

My son asked me to suggest a book to read--I think I'll recommend Mawson's. He's 16 and can't help but be mesmerized, right?

So glad you enjoyed the books. Now I have to write up a list of the titles recommended here, and start reading--albeit at a much slower pace!