7 Books Like All In

Blag Dahlia is the lead singer of the notorious Bay Area punk band Dwarves, arguably the most violent and drugged ensemble ever. But the joke's on us because Blag, aka Paul Cafaro may be one of the smartest and articulate characters in underground music. Highland Falls, his third transgressove novel, is his most delightfully debacherous work to date, I read the 150+ pages in one sitting, and couldn't put it down! A+

Vinnie Stigma has a great story. The lead guitarist of NYHC legends Agnostic Front has lived in Little Italy for the better part of 70 years and has seen it all — growing up around Mafia dons, protection rackets, and other bad seeds and then touring every inch of the globe with his hardcore punk band. Ghostwriter Howie Abrams, who signed AF back in the 80s, does a nice job of smoothing out Vinnie's crazy story into a compelling narrative. Stigma may not be the most interesting man in the world, but The Most Interesting Man In The World makes for riveting reading.

This is a gripping account of expeditioner Robert Falcon Scott’s ill-fated expedition to the South Pole. Apsley Cherry-Garrard, one of the youngest members of Scott's team, recorded the experience of this adventure gone disastrously wrong. Despite the horrors that Scott and his men faced along the way, Cherry's account is filled with stories of resilience, belief in the human spirit, and to persevere in the face of adversity, no matter the cost. Through frostbitten flesh, teeth chattering so hard they spontaneously shatter in the cold of the air, to sweat freezing the instant it emerges from the pores – this is not for the faint-hearted. Nonetheless it is certainly one of the most inspiring accounts of developing self-belief and pushing on in the face of brutal setbacks. 

There is no book that better captures the unique human culture present at modern Antarctic research stations than the late Nicholas Johnson’s Big Dead Place, a frank, funny as hell, and at times savage chronicle of a year working support at McMurdo Station. Like my sister, who winter-overed at South Pole Station, Johnson worked in the galley, but it was the bureaucratic nonsense, present even at the farthest reaches of human civilization, that caught his incomparable eye for absurdity.

As I wrote South Pole Station, Johnson’s wry, searingly intelligent voice was always in my mind. To me, he is the epitome of the non-scientist drawn to the world’s most unforgiving workplace: a wry, brilliant journeyman whose humor had a razor-sharp edge but who cared deeply for the work he did and the people with whom he did it. This is my favorite book about Antarctica.

If there’s one name that thrills anyone interested in Antarctic exploration, Shackleton is it.

In 1914, he led a crew of 28 men to Antarctica aboard the sailing ship Endurance, with the goal of crossing the continent by dog sled. The weather was bad, and Endurance was frozen into the icepack. The following summer was cold, and the ice did not melt. It was almost two years on the ice and traversing the sea in small boats before Shackleton was able to bring his crew home. He lost not a single man.

What I found fascinating, besides the physical dangers they survived, was the camaraderie among the men and—hard to believe—some of them even went back on later expeditions.

Icebound is not a literary masterpiece nor is it a tale of exploration. It is, however, an essential Antarctic text, not just for the personal account found in its pages, but also because of the controversy still raging among Antarctic veterans regarding the decision to extract the author from Antarctica during the polar winter. Dr. Jeri Nielsen was the doctor at South Pole Station during the 1998 season. Her account of the challenges of polar medicine (Superglue is an essential medical supply at 90 South) and the stories of warm relationships with support staff at the station are fascinating. But the real story here is the diagnosis she made of her own breast cancer, which became a global news story when she was evacuated from the base during a dangerous winter flight.

Typically, there are no flights to South Pole Station during the polar winter due to exceptionally dangerous conditions… show more.

A gumbo of meat (often penguin), fat (typically blubber), and maybe some crushed-up biscuits, “hoosh” is the catch-all term used for meals of desperation cooked up and choked down by different historical expeditions, and it’s an apt title for Jason C. Anthony’s engaging and unique look at a slice of Antarctic living. Forget Shackleton’s heroics—what did he eat? How did early explorers survive on penguin eggs? Exactly how desperate does one have to be to eat seal brains? Why is baking at South Pole Station so difficult? Why was the Russian base Vostok stocked with so much vodka? (A question that probably answers itself.)

Anthony is a support staff veteran who has done a number of stints at various research stations on the seventh continent, and his wry narration—which weaves historical accounts with his own experiences—is great fun to read. I only encountered this book after South Pole Station was… show more.