Review: Disappearance: A Map

“What she left us is a gossamer:  a life reflected, and caught; on the wing of a dragonfly.”

Sheila Nickerson admired the mysterious Lady Sarashina for her ability to capture the world around her as well as her individual perspective of Japanese court life. I admire Nickerson’s writing for the same reasons. In addition to mysterious Alaskan expedition history and Alaskan life, Disappearance encompasses Nickerson’s own daily events and thought processes. Through these minor personal accounts, the reader is drawn into the unsettling mysteries of disappearance and the unknown.

Writing is first and foremost a catharsis for Nickerson. Though she repeats this fact on several occasions, it is evident from her intrapersonal approach as she discloses her fears and asks big life questions. Nickerson wrestles with the next stage in her life, retirement, ultimately reexamining her life up until this moment. Her book runs on the clichéd metaphor that life is a journey and the body is a map of all experiences. But Nickerson’s sincerity in her soul search and her seemingly intimate prose keeps the book grounded. Her mastery maintains a safe and relatable balance between warm recollections and melancholic feelings felt in her transition. These alternately match in intensity and give the reader breaks from the spookier and sublime ideas expressed in her fears of being forgotten and previous disappearances in the Alaskan wild.

Significant portions of each chapter contain historical accounts of lost, failed, rescued, etc. expeditions to and through Alaska. As interesting as they are, I found myself wondering how such ill-fated attempts could help Nickerson understand herself in a better capacity. The subject of disappearance simply seemed to be the focus of a somewhat morbid obsession, like an interest in the Bermuda Triangle. But as history continued to unfold, Nickerson brought more disappearances to light; those of close friends, other Alaskans, native languages and culture, wildlife, etc. They are examples of her worst nightmare. Just two decades ago, she was finding connections to hundred-year-old explorations and ensuing disappearances. But I continued to find parallels in my own reading, especially as the story of Malaysian Flight 370 was slowly unfolding. The book is partly a tribute to what has been lost and/or unable to stand the test of time as well as Nickerson’s own protection against the same fate.

Numbered “records” punctuate chapters. Each is dated, followed by specific coordinates, and a very brief story of what happened on that day. It wasn’t until later in the book that I realized these records were Nickerson’s expedition notes left in her own kind of cairn—a book. She often mentions “coordinates that hold us in place”. Her records, simple and factual, are her protection against being forgotten; as if we would find evidence of Nickerson’s life or feel more connected to her journey were we to stand at these exact latitudes and longitudes.

I, too, share an odd fascination with the unexplained, mysterious disappearances, and haunting loss. I kept returning to my childhood when I was drawn to any book I could find on Roanoke, the Titanic or the Bermuda Triangle. Nickerson’s extensive research into the Alaskan expeditions was thought provoking. I was constantly torn between understanding the stories as the tragic consequences of hubris or the human desire to make a mark in the world as Nickerson explores. With her lyrical and evocative prose, I was entranced not only by her writing but her use of it to tackle a profound soul search. I felt her words spoke to my own life transition—coming into my own now that I am graduating from college. Whereas Nickerson related her own life journey and map to other Alaskans, I have sought to see my own journey and resulting map in relation to my family and ancestors.

I have never read anything quite like Disappearance, which blended history and landscape with such personal revelations. Eat, Pray, Love comes to mind, but the sincerity of Nickerson’s questions and almost “suffering in silence” persona overshadow Gilbert’s excessive whine. If you are looking for a more stimulating and transformative account, or are in the middle of a important transition yourself, I highly recommend Disappearance.