Burch’s narrative opens with the author looking back upon her youth, memories of family, and burgeoning relationship with her husband-to-be from a perspective some fifty-plus years later. While evocative and wistful, the prose feels somewhat overblown. Once Burch shifts into a present-tense format to detail her everyday Alaskan life, however, the story gains confidence and focus. She exhibits a great eye for detail and atmosphere, bringing the frozen reaches of the Arctic Circle of 1964 to life in all their chilly, remote wonder. Readers will feel the shock of the world she portrays, one lacking almost every modern convenience.

Some elements of the Burches’ era and outsider perspective can feel jarring to contemporary readers—including the frequent use of Eskimo over Inuit and Tiger’s insistence that “the natives are satisfied with what they have and always seem to be happy.” One startling reminder of the mores of the era is that despite her unhappiness, Burch accepts that “Young women in the early 1960s didn’t question whether or not they could live the life their husband wanted. They went ahead with his wishes and hoped for the best.” Nevertheless, Burch’s resilience shines through the story, and her firsthand accounts of living off the land, Inuit-style, are vividly detailed, resulting in an intimate look at a remote culture before it was reached by the changing times.

Takeaway: An intimate portrait of everyday life amongst the Inuit people of the 1960s, as viewed through the lens of an inexperienced outsider.

Great for fans of: Fred Bruemmer's Arctic Memories: Living With the Inuit, Sheila Watt-Cloutier’s The Right to Be Cold.

Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: B+