Разговор по време на вечеря:
- "Какво четеш в момента?
- Онази книга, в която бялата мечка изяде моряците от кораба, който беше заседнал в Арктика.
- Не можеш ли да четеш нещо по-нормално"?!

Гореописаната случка идва да покаже, че близките ви над 60 години изобщо не могат да схванат какво четете (освен ако не са почитатели на фантастика; или на хорър; или на литературата въобще). Не се чувствайте длъжни да им се обяснявате. :)

Предупреждение - четете тази книга на топло и на пълен стомах, за препоръчване през лятото, за препоръчване под палещо слънце, за препоръчване с чиния месо, добре сготвено и в сос!!!

Не мисля да казвам нищо повече. Само ще повторя думите на хора, прочели "Ужас" преди мен.
Време е най-после да си пусна сериала.

Con todo el respeto a las opiniones de quienes alaban este libro, aquí va la mía:

¡Qué coñazo!

Abandonado en la pag 546. Tiene 920 pags y no me veo otras casi 400 pags aguantando lo que se les pasa por la cabeza a los distintos personajes. Porque, para mí, eso es casi todo el libro: distintas personas que piensan qué puede pasar, qué puedo hacer, qué me imagino que ocurrió, ocurre u ocurrirá. Y si voy por aquí o hago esto o hago lo otro. Y si habrá mucho hielo o más hielo.
Bueno, tb hay descripciones de la zona. Un fiestón de lugar, claro. Nieve y hielo y ya. Gozada de sitio, oye.
Ah!, sí, y nos ameniza con descripciones detalladas de amputaciones o los efectos del escorbuto (en esta se supera) o de las quemaduras.
Y los personajes muy humanos, nada idealizados. ¡Vaya banda! Alcohólicos o amargados o delincuentes o ….pues que no gozas leyendo de ello (Hay dos muy ilustrados con buena pinta pero hasta donde he leído no les saca nada partido).
¿Y qué ha ocurrido en estas casi 550 pags? Pues poco, ya digo que sobre todo elucubraciones de los personajes.

El error ha sido mío. Creí que leía un libro de terror (lo sé, alguno ya me dijisteis que de “terror”, nada) y como mucho diría que es un libro de viajes, de descubrimientos, en los que –hasta lo leído- no se descubre ni ostias.
Hay una parte ¿sobrenatural? a la que no se le saca partido. Y los mejores personajes (Lady Silenciosa podía dar mucho juego), de momento desaprovechados.

Lo dicho, que igual me pierdo el último 40% de maravillas. Pues bien, pues vale, pero ya me he aburrido bastante. Me bajo.

P.D. En la sinopsis llama a esta novela "excitante"...sin comentarios.
más P.D. Conste que Simmons me gusta en varias de sus novelas (Olimpo e Hypperion sobre todo)

- Tengernagy úrnak jelentem, kész van a haditengerészet új hajója. Milyen nevet adjunk neki?
- Ez az a hajó, amit majd a sarkköri expedícióra küldünk?
- Úgy hiszem, igen, uram.
- És bele fog fagyni a jégbe, miközben hiába keresi az Északnyugati átjárót?
- Alighanem, uram.
- És valószínűleg mindenki hősi, esetleg nem annyira hősi, de mindenképpen kínokkal terhes halált fog halni rajta?
- Nos, ennek az esélyét sem zárhatjuk ki, Sir.
- Hm, akkor nevezzük el Terrornak. Így legalább ha Dan Simmons 150 év múlva ír a sztoriból egy horrort, nem kell sokat agyalnia a címén.



Ha egy mondatban akarom összefoglalni: könyv a fehér ember hülyeségéről. A XIX. század derekán járunk - Petőfiék épp a Pilvaxban vajúdják a forradalmat. A Brit Birodalom a csúcson: lobogója ott lebeg a világ minden tengerén, angolnak lenni annyit jelent, hogy az uralkodó "faj" tagja vagy. A világ minden szeglete nagyjából fel van térképezve, az egyetlen kivétel a sarkok vidéke. Közöttük is a legnagyobb titok az ún. "Északnyugati átjáró", a feltételezett kijárat az Atlanti-óceánról a Csendes-óceánra a kanadai szárazföld és a Sarkkör között. Ezt kéne még megtalálni, és akkor rendben is lennénk. Persze ki másra vár a feladat, mint a brit haditengerészetre, személyes sértésnek is vennék, ha helyettük valami csőcselék nemzet (amerikaiak? piha... franciák? viccnek is rossz! norvégok? van olyan ország egyáltalán?) oldaná meg a feladványt. El is küldik két hipermodern hajójukat, a Terrort meg az Erebust vagy 150 emberrel. Akik aztán annak rendje és módja szerint be is szorulnak a jéghegyek közé. Nem paradicsomi állapot: mínusz 50-70 fok, rohamosan fogyó készletek, lázadásveszély, és ha ez még nem lenne elég, a SZÖRNY. Mert ugye mit is ér a horror, ha nincs benne egy természetfeletti rém.

Persze ne feledjük, ez egy hétszáz oldalas könyv. És hétszáz oldalon keresztül egyetlen rém nem tudja fenntartani az olvasó figyelmét, ha mégoly természetfeletti is. Háromszáz oldalig még csak-csak elborzongunk a letépett végtagokon, meg a megcsócsált testeken, de utána óhatatlanul kimerülhet a dolog izgalomfaktora. De nem merül ki - nyilván azért, mert nem a szörny a lényeg. A szörny csupán egyfajta kivetülése annak az élettelen, ijesztő környezetnek, ahová a két hajó hívatlanul betolakodott. Kivetülése az elviselhetetlen hidegnek, a hónapokig tartó éjszakáknak, a kopár világnak, ahol hetekig, hónapokig nem látni az élet nyomát. Ez a környezet rém nélkül is felfalja az embert, vagy ami még rosszabb: lefaragja róla az emberséget, ravasz állattá változtatja, aki társa életére tör. Ilyen körülmények között pedig lassan eljutunk arra a pontra, ahol a szörny már nem a Gonosz képviselőjeként jelenik meg, hanem olyasvalamiként, ami megvált a szenvedéstől. Mert ha letépik a fejedet, az legalább tiszta halál. De hónapokig szenvedni a skorbuttól, látni, ahogy feldagad és elfeketedik a lábunk, kihullanak a fogaink és vérzünk minden pórusunkból... nem, akkor már inkább a megnevezhetetlen rém odakünn a jégmezőkön. Ő az igazi barátunk.

Simmons pazar sarkvidéki szenvedéstörténetet írt, ahol az ún. "ismeretterjesztő jelleg" és a misztikus horror egymás tenyeréből eszik. Fájdalmas olvasmány, olyan könyv, amiben nem tanácsos senkit megszeretni. Hisz tudva vagyon: a Terror és az Erebus katasztrófájának nem voltak túlélői. Csak hát úgy vagyunk felépítve, hogy hétszáz oldal alatt, hiába nem szabad, mégis közel engedünk magunkhoz egyeseket. Croziert, Irvinget, Goodsirt, Bridgenst, Peglart, teszem azt. Tisztában vagyunk a kockázattal. Hogy veszteséget szenvedünk. Hogy fájni fog. De azért fáj, mert jó a könyv.

Review on English, followed by the Bulgarian one. Ревюто на английски е първо, следва това на български.

I don't know if you will ever read this but anyway - thank you for the great book Mr. Simmons!!!

What a novel - simply epic!

With a smooth, almost somnolent start, a surprise rise of the tension to the finish that far exceeded my expectations!

Simmons is familiar to us mainly with his science fiction books, but this is pure adventurous novel with unheard-of scope, at least for me.

The atmosphere and the problems of a lost arctic expedition have been skillfully recreated. But the real treasure in this book are the all of the expedition memebers, through Hickey and Manson, Dr. Goodsir, Captain of the Foretop Harry Pegler and Subordinate Officers' Steward John Bridges, ice boson Thomas Blanks, Captain Crosier and Lady Silence. Their fates and actions made me a direct participant in the events and brought me an incredible emotion.

And it is not granted to anyone that he will remain a human by the end!

Descriptions of the lives, customs, and beliefs of the Inuit were very interesting for me I will look for other sources in order to learn more.

Those who grew up like me with the novels and stories of Jack London will probably like this book very much. To the others I say - give it a chance. It’s worthy, and I strongly recommend it.

Is Tuunbaq still wandering today through the melting Arctic ice in search of souls to swallow...?

———————————————————————————————

Какъв роман!!!

С плавно, почти приспивно начало, стремително покачване на напрежението и финал, далеч надминал очакванията ми!

Симънс е познат у нас основно с фантастиката си, но това е приключенски роман с нечуван поне за мен размах.

Умело са пресъздадени атмосферата и проблемите на една изгубена арктическа експедиция. Но истинското съкровище в тази книга са героите ѝ, от простите моряци, споменати само тук там, през Хики и Мансън, доктор Гудсър, стюардите Хари Пеглър и Джон Бриджес, ледовия боцман Томас Бланки, та до капитан Крозиър и естествено Безмълвната дама. Съдбите и действията им ме направиха пряк участник в събитията и ми донесоха невероятна емоция.

И не е гарантирано на никой, че ще остане човек до края!

Описанията на живота, обичаите и вярванията на инуитите бяха много интересни за мен, ще потърся и други източници описващи ги.

На тези, израснали като мен с романите и разказите на Джек Лондон, тази книга най-вероятно много ще се хареса. На останалите казвам - дайте и шанс. Струва си и аз горещо я препоръчвам.

Дали и до днес Туунбак скита през топящия се арктически лед, в търсене на души за поглъщане?

Dan Simmons' The Terror may be one of the few novels I've read that makes me grateful to live in Texas. This imaginative re-telling of the doomed Franklin expedition of 1845 to find the Northwest Passage is overwhelming in its details of life and death in the Arctic north. The cold is constant, the dark is depressing, and the wind, snow, ice, fog, and (when it appears) water are life-threatening. These are things Texans don't have to worry about. I must remember this book when I want to complain about 110 degree temperature in August. I must remember temperatures of 70 below zero with wind and wet and blindness on top of that.

The two ships of the expedition, the HMS Erebus and the HMS Terror, sail from England in 1845 and explore the area around Beechey Island and Cornwallis Island before attempting to sail south between Prince of Wales Island and Boothia Peninsula to find the Northwest Passage through the Arctic Circle to the Pacific Ocean. However, they press on southward along this path in the face of glaciers, oncoming winter, and dwindling supplies, only to become stuck, frozen in the ice for two years along the west coast of King William Island. They press on at the insistence of the expedition leader, Sir John Franklin, and against the advice of other seasoned explorers and naval officers, including Francis Crozier, the book's central character. Eventually, the men have to abandon ship and take off on foot across King William Island to try to find a passage south and, hopefully, rescue.

The men die slowly from disease, starvation, and exposure as time wears on, and sometimes they also die suddenly as the land or its inhabitants betray them and their expectations. The Terror is a long novel at 766 pages, and it is long for this very reason. The slow death of over a hundred men cannot be represented quickly. It is also a surprisingly suspenseful novel, given the facts of the case. We know, with the assistance of some quick internet research, that there were no survivors, there was no rescue. To this day, no one really knows exactly what happened to this expedition. Yet we read on, willing the men to survive, to find a way out of this awful mess.

There are fanciful (less than strictly factual) elements to the story, too, including a large creature that stalks the ships and kills men easily, a creature that is not merely physical, but spirit. And the final chapters of the book turn from realist representations of attempts at survival in the fatal north to mythic representations of Inuit culture and finally to a synthesis between the two.

I haven't fully decided yet how to feel about these inclusions. Do they weaken the very vivid realism of the novel and diminish the terror of the terrain itself as well as the terror of the evil that grows in some men in such situations? Or do they reinforce these elements, standing in as metaphors for the dangers of the north and the dangers of some humans?

One thing these inclusions certainly do is reveal the stark contrast between the European expedition's goals and methods (and the madness of these goals and methods) with the knowledge and skill the native people have in this land. The Englishmen carried with them, from England and then from their ships, cutlery, books, jewelry, trinkets. They did not know how to survive and yet they thought they would conquer this frozen world. Franklin's very insistence on pushing forward, his insistence that any day now the pack ice would melt away from the ships and reveal the Northwest Passage is, in this context, nothing short of insanity. The things that are described in the Inuit culture (communion with spirits, communion between humans that requires no speech, etc.) may seem like insanity to outsiders, but no more so than the European methods of exploration and survival seem like insanity when seen from the perspective of those who survive the severity of the Arctic circle.

The Terror is about the terror of the Other, the terror borne of a lack of understanding. The Terror is also about how we deal with that terror. Do we flail against it, try to beat it into submission, as did the Englishmen? Or do we learn to live with it, learn to appease it and live alongside it, as did the Inuit?

"We are all eaters of souls"

What an adventure!!! I loved this giant book. I read it on Kindle, but I also bought a hardback version to share with my family.

This is a true story with horror, fantasy, and paranormal thrown in about the voyage of the HMS Terror ship that got frozen in the ice in the 1800's.

What I loved about it was the "monster" of course, and the adventure itself. I learned about the ship, the sailors, old medical procedures, old medicine. I learned about how the people of the ice lived and survived.

What I didn't like and kinda got bored with was the flashbacks, but I've never liked flashbacks in books anyway.

To me this story kinda reminds me of some gothic horror as well. And I kept getting shivers from it Iike I do when I'm watching "The Thing". Dan Simmons is an awesome story teller!

Imagine if you will: the year is 1846 (long before the age of cell phones and other technology that could alert help in a dangerous situation). You are stuck on a ship completely frozen in ice in the Arctic. You’ve got PROBLEMS, including, but not limited to: subzero temperatures that can feel like -100 degrees Fahrenheit with the windchills; dwindling coal supplies needed to keep the boat warm; disease running rampant; spoiling food; damages to the ship due to the constant pressure from the ice; the growing threat of mutiny as crew morale dwindles; lightning storms that make land excursions to find help all but impossible; oh, and an unstoppable, supernatural force stalking the crew members and brutally murdering victims left and right. Uplifting, right?

This quote, used throughout the book, sums up the tone perfectly:
“Life is poor, nasty, brutish, short and solitary.”

Welcome to The Terror, which may very well be the bleakest book I’ve ever read. But what an amazing piece of work. Impeccably researched and insanely immersive, this is the best Dan Simmons book I’ve read to date, and probably in my top twenty of all time. As I read, I felt nearly as exhausted and defeated as the poor people trapped in this awful nightmare, because Simmons does such an exceptional job of painting this grim picture. The characters leap off the page, the setting is extraordinarily detailed, and the story is dripping with atmosphere. The Terror fires on all cylinders. Though certainly overwritten (Simmons is frequently guilty of this) the shifting viewpoints between various characters does an admiral job of preventing the plot from ever growing stale. This stylistic choice was definitely the right call and works to great effect here.

I’m not really sure what genre this falls under. It’s a fictionalized version of a true historical event, with elements of mystery, horror (with a capital H), drama, and even romance thrown in for good measure. The ingredients blend together into a fascinating stew that had me riveted cover to cover.

My highest recommendation for The Terror. 5 frozen stars out of 5. But if you choose to read this, just know that this book is a commitment. It’s insanely detailed, and one hell of a bleak, arduous journey. But it’s a DAMN good read.

This door-stopper of a novel about Franklin’s 1848 lost expedition of the HMS Erebus and HMS Terror to the Arctic in hopes of finding a North-West passage was a bit of a mixed bag of highs and lows for me. First of all, I love historical novels with a touch of the fantastic like Kostova’s The Historian and in this regard Simmons hits a home run with The Terror, weaving to perfection authentic facts and Inuit myths and legends. Also, the descriptions and action scenes are masterfully written, taking us on board the ill-fated Terror as the crew goes from discovery to setback, hope and despair, all the while hunted by a nightmarish creature whose every appearance literally got me on the edge of my seat. That being said, there were also too many lulls in the narrative (especially the flashback scenes) and more than once it felt like Simmons was just as lost as the castaways in the story and simply didn’t know how to end the book. Add to this a very weird mix of American and British English meant to convey the lingo of the crew (but more often than not failing to do so), and you’ll understand why I can't possibly give The Terror five stars. So four stars it is. Which is really good.

OLIVIER DELAYE
Author of the SEBASTEN OF ATLANTIS series
n  n

Since this book tells of an Arctic expedition and ships trapped in the ice, it was the perfect read for a frosty December. Sadly, it hasn't gotten frosty here yet. But the book made me feel the cold these sailors had to endure, that's for sure.

The author takes the story of HMS Erebus and HMS Terror, two British polar exploration ships that actually sailed into the Arctic to find the Northwest Passage in 1845, and gives it a little twist.
HMS Terror used to be a specialized bomb ship that saw a number of battles before being converted into a polar exploration ship two decades later, and participated in George Back's Arctic expedition of 1836–1837, the Ross expedition of 1839–1843, and Sir John Franklin's ill-fated attempt to force the Northwest Passage in 1845. The wreck of HMS Terror was found only in 2016, the Erebus' in 2014 already.
Anyway, the author must have read up on the real-life events and used them as a base into which he weaved this novel of darkness, ice, madness and a thing that hunts the sailors. Or is "the thing" merely a manifestation of them decending into madness?

Throughout the book it is hard to tell what is real and what has sprung from the twisted minds of the starving crew. Some are simply sick and tired (literally), others are monsters themselves (some of them always have been, some of them are turning into monsters). All of them are scared. Exploration was dangerous in these days, much more so than now, and still people volunteered (usually because the pay was good). Sailing through ice, though, certainly had an added level of dangers compared to expeditions to more southern regions.

Thus, we also get some digustingly good body horror when it comes to the injuries and ailments these people have to suffer throughout the years they are stuck in the ice. As you can imagine, the true horror comes from the people themselves - their pasts, their characters, what they turn into slowly but surely, what they are prepared to do.

What surprised me was that while I read the book and followed the progression of the ships' damages and dying crew, I thought it well-written and intriguing (especially on a psychological level) but nothing else. Yes, the darkness and cold seeped from the pages up and through me, making me shiver and constantly question what certain people thought they had seen, which attests to the great worldbuilding. But like I said: that was it - or so I thought. Then, things started happening that had me spring up from my reading nook and cry out or yell in anger - clearly showing that I cared much more about certain characters and events than I had thought!

It was creepy, it was dark, it was cold ... and then it got weird. I liked the duality of everything up to a certain point. Was there a supernatural creature? Was it an enormous polar bear or an as-of-yet unknown but natural creature? Had Captain Crozier really had the Third Eye or was that all just dreams of a man in withdrawal?
And then the author didn't end the book with everyone's demise but kept telling Crozier's story after Lady Silence rescued him; how he had even more dreams and visions (even after the injuries were no longer a problem), how they mated and had kids and he - like her - became this special kind of shaman.
At first, I wasn't sure if I really liked that but in retrospect this, too, could simply be one interpretation and the "real" story is that he let his "wife" cut out his tongue so as to become on of The Real People which ensured his survival. So maybe not all that weird after all.

Anyway, the book was highly atmospheric and entertaining and the author has done a very good job researching all kinds of illnesses befalling sailors in that day and age as well as historical accounts which he incorporated into the tale (I very much like such exploration stories so I know a few of them which made me like this even more).



Not sure the narrator nailed the accent (I thought Crozier sounded more Scottish than Irish) but he had the right kind of voice that reminded me of a British gentleman of a certain age relaying the accounts as written down in the journals.

4.5 stars rounded up because of the great creepy-cold atmosphere.

“They crossed the Great Ice Barrier separating the pack ice from land sometime after 1:00 a.m. The wind stayed low but the temperature continued to drop. During one pause to rerig ropes for the lifting of the sledges over a thirty-foot wall of ice…Lieutenant Little took another temperature reading. It was –82 degrees. [Captain] Crozier had been working and giving commands from within a deep trench of exhaustion for many hours. At sunset, when he'd last looked to the south at the distant creature loping ahead of them now – it was already crossing the sea ice barrier in easy leaps – he had made the mistake of taking his mittens and gloves off for a moment so as to write some position notes in his log. He had forgotten to don the gloves before lifting the telescope again and his fingertips and one palm had instantly frozen to the metal. In pulling his hands away quickly, he had ripped a layer of skin and some flesh off his right thumb and three fingers on one hand, and lifted a swath off his left palm…”
-tDan Simmons, The Terror


The first time I read Dan Simmons’s The Terror, it was during the worst breakup of my life. It was one of those breakups that completely re-alter your perceptions, so that all sense of balance and scope is gone. It was a breakup like the one Jack Kerouac wrote about at the beginning of On the Road, and it left me with the “feeling that everything was dead.” Fifteen years, one marriage, and four kids later, the whipsawing emotional lability I experienced as a young adult is a distant memory, barely kept alive by some truly embarrassing journal entries I really should destroy.

In any event, as I pushed through those unforgiving days, when minutes felt like hours, and each week an eternity, I sought something to take my mind off my troubles. The Terror perked my interest because it was about unimaginable suffering. In my hyperemotional state, this greatly appealed to me.

The suffering in The Terror comes from a multitude of sources. There is the cold weather, the dark nights, and a ship locked in the ice. There is poisoned food, scurvy, and potentially mutinous shipmates. Above all, casting a shapeless shadow, is a voracious, mythical-seeming creature that is tearing men apart out on the ice.

By the end, my original need had been satisfied. Love – as they say – hurts, but no more than your teeth falling from your gums, or your limbs turning black with frostbite, or some nameless land shark ripping out your intestines for no apparent purpose.

***

Despite its supernatural horror roots, The Terror is actually based upon historical events. Indeed, as far as the record exists – and to be honest, there’s not much record to speak of – it is pretty accurate.

The nonfiction baseline is John Franklin’s 1845 expedition to the Arctic Circle to find the fabled Northwest Passage, a water route that is only now being revealed by a warming earth. Franklin was a famed explorer in his day, and had survived earlier brushes with death by eating his shoes. This expedition was the first with steam-powered ships. Even with that extra oomph, however, his two vessels – the HMS Terror and the HMS Erebus – got themselves stuck fast in the ice.

***

Simmons actually starts things in 1847, two years into the expedition. The opening scene hauntingly captures the beauty, wonder, and severity of the far north, with Captain Francis Crozier, the commander of HMS Terror, coming out on deck in –50 degree weather to see the Northern Lights reaching toward him.

Though being icebound is not ideal, the Expedition had been provisioned for this eventuality. Unfortunately, due to unscrupulous merchants, most of their tinned food has gone bad, a real-life theory that has both supporters and detractors in the robust literature surrounding Franklin’s mission.

The hunger and the scurvy would be bad enough, accentuated by the cold and darkness, but Simmons’s clever twist is to add another lethal variable in the guise of a murderous bear-thing.

***

One of my life principles is that history is not a spoiler. The events of the past, often involving the deaths of real people, should not be treated as though they are a last-act reveal or a narrative twist. I have learned, of course, that not everyone on the internet agrees with this premise. Accordingly, if you don’t know about the Franklin Expedition, and prefer to learn its specifics elsewhere, please skip the next two paragraphs.

For those still here, I will note that no member of the historical Franklin Expedition ever returned home. Rescue ships pieced together some of the mystery. Two different messages – both on the same piece of paper, and tucked into a rock cairn – provide tantalizing clues, but no full account. There is also some Inuit testimony of white men trying to cross the ice. This has led to a consensus that a portion of the crew tried to escape the ships and travel over-ice, pulling heavy sledges behind them. This proved incredibly difficult, as the ice was not slippery and flat, but a semi-mountainous terrain created by pack ice crashing together and forming jagged up-flows. Within the past few years, both Terror and Erebus have been found underwater, though they’ve been slow to disclose any secrets.

In any event, Simmons has chosen a marvelously spooky canvas upon which to paint his tale, cleverly interspersing the known with the unknown, the spare facts and his informed speculation, and then adding a relentless, unknowable killer to the mix.

***

Simmons tells the story in alternating third-person chapters told from the points-of-view of a handful of different characters. Chief among them is Captain Crozier, an alcoholic running out of booze, and mourning the lingering remnants of a failed romance. Other chapters center on overall expedition leader Sir John Franklin himself, shipmates Blanky and Peglar, and Dr. Goodsir, whose chapters mainly consist of journal excerpts, which give Simmons the opportunity to unload historical information without trying to interweave it into the main storylines. In a bit of tongue-in-cheek verisimilitude, each chapter heading includes the latitude, longitude, and date.

This is not really a character study. Aside from Crozier, none of the crew leaps out as a great literary creation. For the most part, they are sturdy archetypes, which frankly works just fine. The addition of Silence, an Inuit woman without a tongue, is a bit more unfortunate, approaching as she does the mystical indigenous stereotype.

***

At 766 pages, this is a long, dense novel, filled with details. The plot itself is not important, save for Simmons’s ability to use it to modulate tension. Ultimately, B-story elements such as a burgeoning mutiny feel a bit like filler, but they serve the purpose of marking time till the freaky-scary thing out on the ice attacks again.

And boy, does Simmons nail those scenes. There is some truly taut moments of waiting, thrilling chases through the odd moonscapes of the ice, and brutal collisions of man and teeth.

At times, The Terror can be exhausting, repetitively hitting the same notes over and over. Perhaps that is partially the point, a way of demonstrating – in a very minor way – what it would have been like to be trapped for so long. The climax is debatable. Depending on your mood, it can be either silly or disappointing or creepy or provoking. I’m not sure I liked it, but I didn’t forget it, because it is a bit bonkers.

***

We are in a spot right now, and not a good one. There is a pandemic that keeps flaring, even though we are trying to pretend it’s over. The actual temperature of the United States is rising, while the figurative temperatures of the body politic are past boiling. The economy looks ready to collapse, along with democracy, and if you are thinking of escaping, you should avoid Eastern Europe, because there’s a war.

In trying moments, it is nice to plunge into a book that takes you away from your troubles. A book where everyone is good looking, the income is disposable, and every problem can be solved by the time the sun sets on the beach.

Or you can read The Terror and simply embrace the suck.

The novel is both terrifying and fascinating. There is a horror element in it, however, for me, the true events described by Dan Simmins were terrifying enough. The author presents his (excellent) vision of what the men did and how they felt and how they dealt with the cruel nature individually. And this vision is simply perfect!

This book is utterly insane and the terror within the pages froze my limbs solid. This is a perfect example of why Simmons is the GOAT of crafting horror through the environment, through the reflection of culture and the odds people find themselves against, through the sheer brutality of the world.

I felt cold reading this, I felt awe, I felt horror and most importantly, I felt true fear. A mesmerising read that really captured my attention and forced me to endure the suffering within the pages.