Richard Evelyn ByrdReseñas

If you're interested in polar exploration then this is probably a good one. Things have, obviously, changed alot since these days. Now, even "Drunkard" magazine had an article about drinking at one of the poles & there's an employment agency that specializes in hiring people for polar jobs. Friends of mine & I applied for some. After reading this bk I incoporated a few of the things I learned into a movie I made called "The Ledger of St Dermain" - wch is a sortof fake polar exploration flick shot in mining tunnels - some of them painted white. Amongst enthusiasts of Hollow Earth theories, rumor has it that Admiral Byrd reported seeing a hole at the pole w/ vegetation in it - theorized to be an entrance to the Hollow Earth. That's one of the reasons why I read this. I didn't find anything like that mentioned here.

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.

Byrd details learning to fly, his famous Atlantic and North
Pole flights. He looks towards the future of better planes.

A harrowing experience and a hard book to write afterwards.
Byrd bears his inner most feelings when he almost died.

The story of Byrd's Antarctic expedition entailing action,
scientific research and discoveries

good story about awful conditions

An incredible account of one man's will to live under nearly impossible odds. Timeless. Brings to mind "Unbroken". A very good read.

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.

1511 Alone, by Richard E. Byrd (read 10 Apr 1979) This is a really excellent book. I was moved to read it by two things: it is on Dick Dabney's list of 100 best books, and it was read by Bobby Kennedy and praised. It is a fantastically exciting book: it tells of Adm. Byrd's stay, alone, in an advance base at Latitude 80' 08'5, Longitude 163' 57" West, from Mar 23, 1934, to Aug 11, 1934. It is really unbelievable that a person could survive what he went through. From May 31 on he was sick--and yet he lived, and people at Little America, some 60 miles away, never knew it. One cannot help but admire the man tremendously. One of the best books I've read in a long time.

I realized from the afterward that this is not the entire story. But I still though there was some absolutely amazing transcendent writing here.

‘Alone’ reminded me a little bit of two other books. First of ‘Into the Wild’. Just like Chris McCandless he risked life and limb in his search for solitary enlightenment. And just like McCandless, Byrd encountered life threatening peril in his pursuit of the divine. ‘Alone’ also reminded me a tiny bit of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ that in only by removing themselves from society did Byrd and Gilbert feel like they could be mindful enough to experience God. While I’m a big believer in finding peace in quiet, I don’t think it’s really necessary to be completely isolated to regain that childlike sense of wonder and awe of the world. And as we all know the real trick is holding onto that awareness while going about our everyday life.

It does boggle the mind to think what a man will do to escape his family. He traveled halfway around the world to sit alone in a shack where the temperature could be 75 degrees below. Don’t you wonder about the fortitude of his wife at home with the four children and the unpaid bills?

If I could I’d quote the entire first five pages of the book as they are so evocatively illuminating.

We are caught up in the winds that blow every which way. And in the hullabaloo the thinking man is driven to ponder where he is being blown and to long desperately for some quiet place where he can reason undisturbed and take inventory. It may be that I exaggerate that need for occasional sanctuary, but I do not think so—at least speaking for myself, since it has always taken me longer than the average person to think things out.

In my opinion, Byrd is apologizing for being an introvert in this passage. Extroversion-getting your energy from being with people is still the norm. Those who can only replenish their energy by being alone are still looked upon as being a little odd.

And all this was mine: the stars, the constellations, even the earth as it turned on its axis. If great inward peace and exhilaration can exist together, then this, I decided my first night alone, was what should possess the senses.

The day was dying, the night being born—but with great peace. Here were the imponderable processes and forces of the cosmos, harmonious and soundless. Harmony, that was it! That was what came out of the silence—a gentle rhythm, the strain of a perfect chord, the music of the spheres, perhaps.

The last half of the walk is the best part of the day, the time when I am most nearly at peace with myself and circumstances. Thoughts of life and the nature of things flow smoothly, so smoothly and so naturally as to create an illusion that one is swimming harmoniously in the broad current of the cosmos.

…a man can live a lifetime in a few half dreaming moments of introspection between going to bed and falling asleep: a lifetime reordered and edited to satisfy the every-changing demands of the mind.

I would be straining to listen—for nothing, really nothing but the sheer excitement of silence.

There were moments when I felt more alive than at any other tie in my life. Freed from the materialistic distractions, my senses sharpened in new directions, and the random or commonplace affairs of the sky and earth and the spirit, which ordinarily I would have ignored if I had noticed them at all, became exciting and portentous.

This following paragraph I found indescribably beautiful;

The human race, my intuition tells me, is not outside the cosmic process and is not an accident. It is as much a part of the universe as the trees, the mountains, the aurora, and the stars. My reason approves this; and the findings of science, as I see them, point in the same direction. And, since man is a part of the cosmos and subject to its laws, I see no reason to doubt that these same natural laws operate in the psychological as well as in the physical sphere and that their operation is manifest in the workings of the consciousness.

”The universe is an almost untouched reservoir of significance and value,” and man need not be discouraged because he cannot fathom it. His view of life is no more than a flash in time. The details and distractions are infinite. It is only natural, therefore that we should never see the picture whole. But the universal goal—the attainment of harmony—is apparent. The very act of perceiving this goal and striving constantly toward it does much in itself to bring us closer and, therefore, becomes an end in itself.

Few men during their lifetime come anywhere near exhausting to resources dwelling within them. There are deep wells of strength that that are never used.

Memoir of a trip to the Antarctic. Moving and thrilling.

“Alone” is the memoir written by Richard E. Byrd of his sojourn in Antarctica for the long polar night of 1934. The Afterword refers to “Byrd’s self-imposed exile inside a hut nine by thirteen feet, ‘a pinprick in infinity’ etched into a floating glacier the size of France, just beyond the rim of human life.” The journey was intensely personal and dangerous, with Byrd barely escaping with his life. It was hard for him to revisit these days, to share publicly what occurred within himself – what he came to know. The story is personal and particular, yet it is universal for those willing to enter the depths of solitude and the awareness it brings.

SOME FAVORITE QUOTES:

“What I had not counted on was discovering how closely a man could come to dying and still not die, or want to die. … and it is surprising, approaching the final enlightenment, how little one really has to know or feel sure about.”

Interesting thoughts on how teams in confined seclusion need to be made of 3. Byrd was planning on a team of 3, but circumstances did not allow. He thought one better than two, and therefore sent himself. “With three men as compared to two, the chances for temperamental harmony seemed infinitely increased, since, in the nature of human relations, one man would constantly be present in the stabilizing role of a neutral judge, a court of appeal. Instead of hearing one voice everlastingly and seeing one face and being confronted with one patter of habits and idiosyncrasies, a man would have two aspects and personalities constantly facing him. Under such conditions it doesn’t take two men long to find each other out. … the time comes when one has nothing left to reveal to the other; when even his unformed thoughts can be anticipated…”

“It occurred to me then that half the confusion in the world comes from not knowing how little we need.”

“Thus the coming of the polar night is not the spectacular rush that some imagine it to be. … The onlooker is not conscious of haste. On the contrary, he is sensible of something of incalculable importance being accomplished with timeless patience.”

The appropriateness of some losses: “If you hadn’t lost the sun, I told myself, you would have had something serious to think about, since that would mean that the earth’s axis was pointing the wrong way, and the entire solar system was running amok.”

The way we endure prolonged negative circumstances: “The tolerable quality of a dangerous existence is the fact that the human mind cannot remain continuously sensitive to anything. Repetition’s dulling impact sees to that. The threat of sudden death can scare a man for only so long; then he dismisses it as he might a mealymouthed beggar.”

To be heightened: “For all my realism and skepticism there came over me, too powerfully to be denied, that exalted sense of identification – of oneness – with the outer world which is partly mystical but also certainty. I came to understand what Thoreau meant when he said, ‘My body is all sentient.’ There were moments when I felt more alive than at any other time in my life. Freed from materialistic distractions, my senses sharpened in new directions, and the random or commonplace affairs of the sky and the earth and the spirit, which ordinarily I would have ignored if I had noticed them at all, became exciting and portentous.”

And then to be lowered: “That night the peace did not come that should have come. I was like a clock wound up to strike in an empty house. Everything I was doing seemed unfinished and crude, without relationship to the unfathomable desires in my mind. The futility and emptiness of my existence were symbolized by the simple act of jumping up from the chair. Nothing in the everyday habits of a man is ordinarily freighted with more purposefulness than the business of quitting a chair. The swift leverage may impel him on any one of a thousand different errands and opportunities. But with me it led only to blank walls.”

On contemplation: “I am finding that life here has become largely a life of the mind. Unhurried reflection is a sort of companion. Yes, solitude is greater than I anticipated. My sense of values is changing, and many things which before were in solution in my mind now seem to be crystallizing. I am better able to tell what in the world is wheat for me and what is chaff. In fact, my definition of success itself is changing.”

On discord: “But the peace I describe is not passive. It must be won. Real peace comes from struggle that involves such things as effort, discipline, enthusiasm. This is also the way to strength. An inactive peace may lead to sensuality and flabbiness, which are discordant. It is often necessary to fight to lessen discord. This is the paradox.”

How fear is part of hope: “When hope goes, uncertainty goes, too; and men don’t fear certainties.”

On God as Harmony: “…there is an Intelligence there, and it is all pervading. At least one purpose, possibly the major purpose, of that Intelligence is the achievement of universal harmony. Striving in the right direction for Peace (Harmony), therefore, as well as the achievement of it, is the result of accord with that Intelligence. It is desirable to effect that accord. The human race, then, is not alone in the universe. Though I am cut off from human beings, I am not alone.”

On faith implemented: “To the degree that a man is superior to his destiny, I should be able to rise above them [the facts of my reality]. Few men during their lifetime come anywhere near exhausting the resources dwelling within them. There are deep wells of strength that are never used. Could I find a way to tap those physical potentialities locked up within myself? … I recognized a big difference between the mere affirmation of faith and its effective implementation. … It didn’t occur to me to formulate a prayer. …the sheer hunger to live was prayer enough.”

“It was disheartening to be so much at the mercy of something from which there was no lasting escape.”
“Then the darkness rushed in, and I was sensible of the ultimate meaning of loneliness.”

In conclusion: “The self-preservation instinct of leadership and a sense of shame over my flimsiness drove me to wall off the immediate past. I wanted no one to be able to look over the wall; also, something deep inside me demanded that I close my mind to the notion that I had been rescued. … I climbed the hatch and never looked back. Part of me remained forever at Latitude 80⁰ 08′ South: what survived of my youth, my vanity, perhaps, and certainly my skepticism. On the other hand, I did take away something that I had not fully possessed before: appreciation of the sheer beauty and miracle of being alive, and a humble set of values. … I live more simply now, and with more peace. … A man doesn’t begin to attain wisdom until he recognizes that he is no longer indispensable.”