![]() ![]() “I wanted to set up the central question of Worsley’s life,” Grann says in describing the experience of composing the first sentences of what would become “The White Darkness,” a 21,000-word account that appeared in The New Yorker last month. He had just spent several wrenching days speaking with the widow, children, friends and comrades of Henry Worsley, a 55-year-old retired British army officer who died while attempting the impossible: a trek on foot, alone and unassisted (he had to pull his provisions on a sled), from one side of Antarctica to the other – a distance of more than 1,000 treacherous miles. It was February 2017, and Grann was walking the streets of London. ![]() Every direction he turned he could see ice stretching to the edge of the Earth.” “The man felt like a speck in the frozen nothingness. The lede came to David Grann a year before he would complete his epic story and a year after the events it describes: The grave of Ernest Shackleton in the Antarctic in an undated photo. ![]()
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