Now in a paperback edition, America's greatest literary naturalist takes readers on the ultimate wildlife safari: a true back-of-beyond voyage to the world's most unforgiving land, the islands off Antarctica's northern ice shelf, and to that second most remote place on earth, South Georgia Island, "the last outpost in a great emptiness of ocean." Matthiessen has once again lit upon a subject profoundly fitted to his creative genius. He is simply the ultimate lyricist of loss, a writer brilliantly attentive to the way vanishings are braided into even the most exquisite moments of our lives. He agonizes over what is passing away, but does so in a manner that increases our appreciation of what remains. In "End of the Earth," Matthiessen joins the crew of the Akademik - a 384-foot research vessel bound for wild and storied South Georgia Island and Antarctica. Along the way we are treated to a patented Matthiessen brew: lyricism and emotion applied to the sharp-eyed evaluations of a seasoned naturalist. Brilliant and instructive observations of the creatures inhabiting this far-flung region are sprinkled with eloquent disquisition on the history of the region (Shackleton, Captain Cook,

Reviews

Attempts by humans to surmount nature at its most expansive and inhospitable is an almost guaranteed home-run story arc. But Matthiessen (The Snow Leopard, etc.) uses a clinical, detached voice to narrate his epic treks to Antarctica, making what should be a gripping page-turner a bland yawn. It's not his fault that a wicked storm limited his journey to the White South, disrupting the natural apex of the trip's trajectory. But Matthiessen would have been more effective in conveying the magnitude of his experiences if he had used words-not latitude and longitude coordinates-to narrate the action. He vaguely compensates for his stoicism by liberally citing and quoting from his Antarctic forebears, especially Ernest Shackleton and Roald Amundsen. This historical context is appreciated, particularly after slogging through languorous descriptions of animals, objects and elements that lack personification (a necessary tool when making "nature" the subject, protagonist and plot line of a book). Statements like, "Birds call us into the moment," made by an associate of Matthiessen's (but equally indicative of Matthiessen's philosophy) are not evocative hallmarks of the Antarctic quest, one of the most complex, majestic and challenging journeys that exist. Although he succeeds in prioritizing nature over narrative arc, it remains frustrating that such an accomplished author would not, in his 27th book, find a way to liven up antiseptic observations of albatrosses and hurricanes with an expansive, emotive voice befitting the scope of his travels. 8-page color photo insert not seen by PW. (Sept.) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.