Madhouse at the End of the Earth—Julian Sancton’s exquisitely researched and deeply engrossing account of the Belgica’s disastrous Antarctic expedition—is a narrative of cascading system failures ... The crew of the Belgica kept diaries of the expedition, which provide an extraordinary treasure trove for Madhouse. Sancton uses the explorers’ personal accounts to tease out the personalities and fears and rivalries of his subjects ... There’s more scope in Madhouse for dark humor than for general levity, and Sancton knows when to employ it ... Although Sancton devotes the latter portion of his book to the post-Belgica exploits of Cook and Amundsen, it’s the blinking, confused return of the crew to civilization that really brings the narrative home.
Bringing forward the release of Madhouse at the End of the Earth before Covid restrictions were eased on the grounds that it was the ultimate lockdown read. Or maybe now is the perfect time to publish it as, venturing gingerly out again, we find ourselves succumbing to lockdown nostalgia ... Sancton’s own prose serves the reader well as he negotiates a path through what must have been a submerged mass of research documents ... he coaxes his material into a watertight narrative. One member of the crew goes completely mad, the rest are exhausted, enervated, listless, forced to reassert themselves against their captivity when the sun reappears and the slow thaw brings hope and a new set of dangers. We’ll leave them there, two-thirds of the way through this utterly enthralling book. Some of them, we know, will survive – and we also know that by 1926 Cook will be locked up in Kansas. How on earth, we wonder, does he wind up there?
In graphic and meticulously researched detail Sancton describes the countless impediments that pushed these men to the brink of insanity ... filled with historical facts, astonishing detail, and firsthand narratives of the Belgica’s crew. Sancton does a brilliant job of transporting the reader to a far-off place and time. In its most basic structure, this work is a study of human nature under horrific conditions and how leadership, professionalism, and compassion ultimately prevailed over madness and disease. The use of primary sources and Sancton’s unique, almost novel-like writing style is captivating. One can almost feel the sting of the Antarctic coldness and imagine the endless darkness and despair as it wraps its brutal shroud upon the crew. The endless monotony of not knowing whether they would survive and the toll it took upon their psyche is profound and gut-wrenching. Anyone who appreciates historical narrative in which the boundaries of human endurance are examined will wholeheartedly appreciate this book.
Mr. Sancton conjures the fug of pipe smoke and unwashed men in the unventilated wardroom, the taste of kjøttboller—spongy canned meatballs resembling 'soft, colorless gobs'—and the pearly sheen of fluted icebergs ... Mr. Sancton handles the material adroitly, deciphering faulty observations, remaining scrupulous in his reluctance to speculate, and filling in the background of polar exploration with a light touch ... The prose tends toward the purple...But the energy of the narrative never flags, and Madhouse remains an engaging read throughout ... may not match Apsley Cherry-Garrard’s The Worst Journey in the World or Frank Worsley’s Shackleton’s Boat Journey, the two best Antarctic books ever written. But what of it? Mr. Sancton has produced a thriller—and a welcome addition to the polar shelves.
... enthralling and beautifully written ... Sancton adds vivid touches ... Think of it as Masterandcommanderpiece Theater. For anyone in the throes of pandemic self-pity, this book will provide perspective, perhaps even serve as a restorative. Like a penguin.
... a hair-raising study ... Drawing on an impressive array of materials, the author shows how the Belgica endeavor was yet another example of careful planning that quickly went awry as physical illness, natural disaster, and a breakdown in command derailed every good intention. The miracle here is that anyone survived, which was due in no small part to Amundsen and Cook. Sancton smartly focuses on these two men who would go on to legendary (in ways both good and bad) careers. This compelling narrative of an overlooked expedition is a sure-fire winner for armchair explorers.
Sancton gives this extraordinary saga its first book-length treatment ... Belying its sensational title, this detail-rich account is a sober and humane chronicle of relationships among the explorers and their struggle for survival in the long polar night. Armchair travelers will enjoy.
With a cast of intriguing characters and drama galore, this history reads like fiction and will thrill fans of Endurance and In the Kingdom of Ice. A rousing, suspenseful adventure tale.
Journalist Sancton debuts with a riveting account of the first polar expedition to spend the winter south of the Antarctic Circle ... Vividly recreating the crew’s boredom, disorientation, fatigue, depression, and hysteria during their 13-month ordeal, Sancton focuses on the expedition’s American doctor, Frederick Cook, whose prescription of daily seal or penguin meat helped the crew stave off scurvy, and Norwegian first mate Roald Amundsen, who became a legendary polar explorer thanks, in part, to the lessons he learned on the Belgica. Though the prose occasionally tips over into the melodramatic, this is a well-researched and enthralling portrait of endurance and escape.
