In ’After the North Pole,' explorer chronicles impossible challenges

In 1994, Norwegian explorer Erling Kagge completed the “Three Poles Challenge,” becoming the first person to reach the North Pole, South Pole and summit of Mount Everest on foot — without using dogs, supply drops or motorized aids.

Since then, he’s remained refreshingly curious, both physically (by traversing New York City underground) and intellectually, earning a philosophy degree and founding a publishing house. Both sides of Kagge’s “eventyrlyst,” a Norwegian word meaning “lust for adventure,” are on display in his latest book, “After the North Pole.” It was translated into English by Kari Dickson, whom Anglophones might know from her equally stellar translations of Norwegian literary luminary Gunnhild Øyehaug.

Kagge’s book itself is an exploration, not only of his 1990 journey to the North Pole, but of the history of humanity’s quest to stand on top of the world. Kagge’s trek north took an unimaginably enervating 58 days, during which he and compatriot Børge Ousland skied while each pulling a sled that initially weighed 265 pounds. Yet Kagge admits to no magical insight into polar explorers, writing “I will never understand all the reasons why people want to go to the North Pole. I am not even sure of my own motives.”

The book considers not only fellow adventurers and (a few) fools, but the literary, historical and philosophical figures who helped shape the mythology of the Arctic and exploration in general. These early thinkers relied mostly on imagination — like Mary Shelley, whose Doctor Frankenstein pursued his monster to northern wilds — though some did undertake their own, less precarious wanderings, like Petrarch, who wrote about a 1336 ascent of Mont Ventoux, familiar to Tour de France fans for its brutal climbs.

“After the North Pole” catalogs a litany of those who walked, sailed, motored, floated and flew north before either dying (the overwhelming majority) or turning back. By the 1800s, slow progress was made toward the pole though, time and again, lack of preparation doomed men driven less by scientific curiosity than mythical martyrdom. This is encapsulated by Kagge’s wry observation that “perhaps there is nothing more gratifying than a dead hero who was left behind in the Arctic.”

The reasons for the many failures are as harrowing as they are fascinating, including murder, scandal, a few cannibals and lots and lots of polar bears. And there is controversy, of course, especially over the accounts of Frederick Cook and Robert Peary, who both claimed to have reached the North Pole at the start of the 20th century.

An unforgettable character is Kagge’s fellow Norwegian Fridtjof Nansen who came within 4 degrees latitude of the North Pole in 1895. He is eccentric, sending nudes of himself in the 1890s, but also determinedly practical, spending a winter with Inuits who inspire him to use skis and kayaks in his record-setting journey.

Kagge also clearly respects the Inuit lifestyle, and that people’s knowledge aids his and Ousland’s success by, among other things, showing them why old ice makes better drinking water and why fur-trimmed hoods are better than hats.

In past books, Kagge has astutely lamented the many deleterious effects of modern life. These concerns arise occasionally here, but only in the final chapter does he focus on the biggest detriment to future polar exploration: climate change.

It’s a bleak prognosis. Soon, journeys like the one he made and those he so memorably recounts will only be feasible in the imagination.

Cory Oldweiler is a freelance writer.

After the North Pole

By: Erling Kagge, translated from the Norwegian by Kari Dickson.

Publisher: HarperOne, 368 pages, $32.