Oh So You Consider The Past “romantic” But When I Tell You About My Dream Of Being An 1800s Arctic

Arctic Gothic as inspired by Fortitude

It’s always snowing. It will never not be snowing. It snows and snows and snows, yet the drifts never gets any taller. 

The sun won’t rise for three months. It won’t ever rise again. Your life now exists in darkness.

You’re not allowed to die there because you’ll never decay. But people are already decaying. 

Respect the polar bears. They were here first. What do we do about the polar bear within us all?

The Northern Lights brighten the night sky in the dark winter, but they will never brighten your soul.

Everything is frozen, just like I am frozen by my thoughts.

The Permafrost never forgets. It won’t let you forget either. Soon it will make you remember. 

The cold bites at those exposed to it for too long. Bite back. Always bite back.

Everything is covered in white. Why is no one wearing sunglasses?

Taking pictures of penguins during the First Soviet Antarctic Expedition (1955)

HMS Hecla in Baffin Bay, from William Edward Parry, Journal of a Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage, 1821. Not pictured: a Marryat character trapped in an iceberg in suspended animation.

The five months had elapsed, according to my calculations, when one morning I heard a grating noise close to me; soon afterwards I perceived the teeth of a saw entering my domicile, and I correctly judged that some ship was cutting her way through the ice. Although I could not make myself heard, I waited in anxious expectation of deliverance. The saw approached very near to where I was sitting, and I was afraid that I should be wounded, if not cut in halves; but just as it was within two inches of my nose, it was withdrawn. The fact was, that I was under the main floe, which had been frozen together, and the firm ice above having been removed and pushed away, I rose to the surface. A current of fresh air immediately poured into the small incision made by the saw, which not only took away my breath from its sharpness, but brought on a spitting of blood. Hearing the sound of voices, I considered my deliverance as certain. Although I understood very little English, I heard the name of Captain Parry frequently mentioned—a name, I presume, that your highness is well acquainted with.

“Pooh! never heard of it,” replied the pacha.

“I am surprised, your highness; I thought every body must have heard of that adventurous navigator. I may here observe that I have since read his voyages, and he mentions, as a curious fact, the steam which was emitted from the ice—which was nothing more than the hot air escaping from my cave when it was cut through."

— Frederick Marryat, The Pacha of Many Tales

writing my first kinda real academic paper about antarctica and turns out I know things but don’t know how I know them. which is not very convenient for footnotes as you may imagine. source: bro trust me half of my brain is polar exploration

The expedition had set up cameras to study penguin migratory patterns. After several weeks of nothing, one of the cameras began picking up movement.

I believe in the fundamental goodness of humanity because I have seen the Polar Exploration and Age of Sail enthusiasts.