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Compass
We can't all be heroes. Some try and succeed. Others posture and pretend. And a few―just a few―set off on their hero's quest only to discover that failure was within them all along.
Compass recounts the adventures of a man who, after traveling the world shilling stories for a major geographic magazine about historic expeditions and explorers, sets out on an adventure of his own―an ill-advised and poorly planned trip to the Arctic floe edge under the disorienting twenty-four-hour summer sun. When the ice breaks and his guide disappears, the narrator ends up alone and adrift in the hostile northern sea. He draws on his knowledge of historic expeditions to craft his own, inept, attempt at survival. As time passes and he becomes increasingly disoriented, his obsession with Sedna, the Inuit goddess of the sea, becomes terrifyingly real.
Part Life of Pi, part Into the Wild, Compass draws heavily on true historical adventures, Inuit mythology, and its Arctic setting. The narrator, a self-aware buffoon who remains nameless throughout, is both remarkably well-informed and entirely useless. He knows just enough to steer himself into the path of disaster―repeatedly, often comically, and ultimately tragically.
Compass recounts the adventures of a man who, after traveling the world shilling stories for a major geographic magazine about historic expeditions and explorers, sets out on an adventure of his own―an ill-advised and poorly planned trip to the Arctic floe edge under the disorienting twenty-four-hour summer sun. When the ice breaks and his guide disappears, the narrator ends up alone and adrift in the hostile northern sea. He draws on his knowledge of historic expeditions to craft his own, inept, attempt at survival. As time passes and he becomes increasingly disoriented, his obsession with Sedna, the Inuit goddess of the sea, becomes terrifyingly real.
Part Life of Pi, part Into the Wild, Compass draws heavily on true historical adventures, Inuit mythology, and its Arctic setting. The narrator, a self-aware buffoon who remains nameless throughout, is both remarkably well-informed and entirely useless. He knows just enough to steer himself into the path of disaster―repeatedly, often comically, and ultimately tragically.
342 pages, Paperback
Published September 27, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 70 reviews
April 7, 2022
The qamutik, my compass, would be my sundial. I rigged a slot into the center of the sled and planted the harpoon. Its shadow crossed the deck on the starboard side of stern. It flickered as a low cloud slid by, then set. The mark stayed true. I had harnessed the sun.
Compass combines a lot of my favourite themes — Far North nature writing, Indigenous mythology, a person being pushed to the limits of survival and sanity — and as a medical doctor who has served as a fly-in physician for a traditional Inuit community on the Arctic Circle for the past fifteen years, author Murray Lee is well-placed to tell this outsider tale of an arrogant adventurer who mistakenly believes that the North has been tamed since the dangerous heydays of polar exploration. From early on we know that some tragedy will befall this character (dubbed “Guy” by his Inuit hosts and otherwise unnamed) — so, while a thriller, the plot is less about what ultimately happens than what leads up to it — and by making Guy essentially unlikeable and unself-aware, Lee sets up a situation that gives the reader a delicious feeling of schadenfreude. I liked everything about this — Compass certainly doesn’t feel like a debut novel — and I hope that for a small release it gets a big reception. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
Nowadays, with modern navigation systems and conveniently thin ice, cruise ships like mine glide through the waters on little more than a collective whim and the pensions of upper-middle-class urban professionals. Every fog-shrouded little beach they pass is the deserted stage of historic tragedy. My job on these trips was to tell those stories of shipwrecks and starvation — ghost stories, I suppose — as satellites guided our ship safely through a sea of despair. We were walking, as it were, on a path made of bones.
A former academic who became famous writing pop history books, Guy has been travelling the world on the lecture circuit, rehashing the tales of European exploration with a specialty in the Far North. Notwithstanding his Gore-Tex parka and carefully curated adventurer’s beard, Guy was outed as a poser by a colleague who had actually been to “The Edge” (the place where the northern lands, or at least the solid ice, meets the open sea), and when he has a break in his touring schedule, Guy determines to make a trek to The Edge to see it in person. Despite the local Inuit contending that June is the wrong time of year to make such a trip, Guy insists on bending reality to his own convenience and off he heads into the midnight sun with little more than his reluctant guide and a flask of celebratory Scotch. What could go wrong?
I enjoyed the nature writing, the historic storytelling, the Inuit mythology, and maybe especially, the reality of Canada’s nebulous claim to the North:
Every Nunavut town I’ve ever been in has had a small patrol and Sim was exactly the type of guy who was in each of them. A volunteer militia in matching red sweatshirts tobogganing around the Arctic as Russian and American nuclear submarines slip silently underneath them. It is such a Canadian approach to national defense — understated, admirable, and quite possibly completely ineffective.
And:
The fact that Canada has kept itself together is a sign of either the kindness of its neighbors or a worldwide lack of interest in what that place has to offer. Certainly, they don’t put up much of a defense. The world’s longest coastline and, as far as I can tell, the country seems to rely on the honor system.
Parenthetically: I once met an American — an educated, well-travelled professional from Chicago — who laughed when I suggested that Santa Claus is a Canadian. He laughed but then said, “Wait. Do you actually believe the North Pole is in Canada?” I replied yes; if you look at a map, Canada goes all the way up to the top. And he said, “Now that’s funny.” Well, where do people think Canada stops? I appreciate that Lee points out our precarious claim (or at least our inability to defend it). And I want to make mention of some intriguing quirks of Lee’s vocabulary that point to his medical background. Twice he refers to “omentum” (once as a "choice" bit of meat that was offered to Guy [which he eventually spat into a stream], and once as Guy held some after gutting an animal), and he uses more evocatively bowellish terms to describe the polar ice: Guy notes that the ice rumbled with “borborygmic bass-beats that I could feel beneath my feet,” and he grew to fear “the deep, wet respirations of an edematous death. It was the end of my ice.” I had to look those words up, and I appreciate their imaginative use.
The ice was etched like elephant skin. Pools had formed at a few fissures’ forks, bleeding into each other through a latticework of shallow channels. I knew the floe was thick from looking down the breathing hole, but it was clearly rotting. And beyond the ice, along the shore on its every side, little waves were eating at the edge, as industrious as ants. My world was a clock, counting down.
What most worked for me in Compass was the slow revelation of Guy’s character: as a first-person narrative, it isn’t obvious from the beginning how generally unliked and undeserving of his acclaim Guy really is, but it eventually becomes clear that his hubris will demand a response from the gods; even if they aren’t his gods. A fast and engaging read, this really worked for me.
September 15, 2022
This book isn’t really like anything else I have read before…and by that I mean it’s extremely weird. But unique and weird are not the same as bad and I genuinely enjoyed the story. It reminded me more of Castaway that it did Life of Pi, but overall it was an easy book to get through. I didn’t care much for the narrator but I think he was constructed to be disliked so he really worked. I did like the Intuit folklore woven into this story, and I found an adventure in the Arctic very interesting and not something I have seen much. The narrator, typically referred to as Guy, started out as a historian but has morphed into more of a story teller or entertainer and lost a lot of his authenticity in the process. He has told tales of the floe, an amazing phenomenon in the north but he has never seen it and after being called on this he decides it’s something he should see. This starts him on an adventure like he couldn’t have imagined and one that others will twist into their own stories. The writing was good and left me curious what else the author may come up with in the future.
September 19, 2022
It's clear the author has spent a lot of time in Inuit communities, and has also spent a lot of time contemplating the legacy and the follies of 19th century European explorers. The narrator, Guy, takes a sort of perverted pride in knowing he is a bumbling naïf who doesn't have the skill to survive even in the summer months in the Arctic north. But even he severely underestimates his boneheadedness. There are some scenes and anecdotes in the first half of the novel that were breathtakingly beautiful and strange and moving. There are also many scenes of the narrator and the inhabitants of a small village talking past one another--the dialogue is terrifically done. By comparison I was let down by the second half of the novel, which felt a little slap-dash and silly compared with what had come before. It's hard to be specific without revealing more of the plot than I care to so I'll just say that the promise of the early parts of the novel included hints of revelation to come, and although the story remained entertaining, this promise went unfulfilled.
Four stars and a strong recommendation to check this book out for yourself--if only just for the extraordinary writing about what an Arctic summer feels like--the quality of light and the strange timelessness of it--but also for the many wonderful early scenes, including a truly eerie visit to an ancient burial site and what the narrator found there--this and other scenes are like nothing I've read before.
Four stars and a strong recommendation to check this book out for yourself--if only just for the extraordinary writing about what an Arctic summer feels like--the quality of light and the strange timelessness of it--but also for the many wonderful early scenes, including a truly eerie visit to an ancient burial site and what the narrator found there--this and other scenes are like nothing I've read before.
August 31, 2022
After getting caught for his dishonest tales of adventure, Guy decides to embark on a spur of the moment journey to the Arctic Floe. There he recruits Simeonie, a local Inuit and well respected guide. It’s the wrong time of year to be travelling out to the Floe, but Guy is adamant. And so begins the fateful journey and the eventual demise of Guy’s lifeline — Simeonie.
Stranded on an ice floe with very little provisions, Guy struggles to survive. He is unprepared and ill equipped to endure the wilderness where the Land of the Midnight Sun blurs the lines between day and night.
As Guy struggles with sleep deprivation, he also begins to hallucinate — imagining that the creatures of the Arctic can communicate with him. Can Guy survive long enough to be rescued? And will his survival mean that he returns to civilization unscathed?
Compass is Murray Lee’s debut novel. While it may not resonate with some, I found Compass to be one of the “sleepers” that creep up on you and hook you in.
The characters are well developed and there is enough banter to get a feel for the dry sense of humor that occurs among them. I for one enjoyed the character of Simeonie. I could just envision his deadpan expressions, which made me snicker the whole time he existed in the story. I didn’t particularly care for Guy as I did not like his arrogant and self-serving attitude. But hey, if you can love or hate a character in a novel, that’s a good thing.
The plot flows at a slower pace that what I’m accustomed to. But that’s probably the result of building a foreboding environment and developing a sense of doom.
Compass is definitely a novel for those readers that enjoy general fiction with a spash of cultural interest and adventure. Four stars.
I received a physical ARC from Publerati through Bookish First. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.
Stranded on an ice floe with very little provisions, Guy struggles to survive. He is unprepared and ill equipped to endure the wilderness where the Land of the Midnight Sun blurs the lines between day and night.
As Guy struggles with sleep deprivation, he also begins to hallucinate — imagining that the creatures of the Arctic can communicate with him. Can Guy survive long enough to be rescued? And will his survival mean that he returns to civilization unscathed?
Compass is Murray Lee’s debut novel. While it may not resonate with some, I found Compass to be one of the “sleepers” that creep up on you and hook you in.
The characters are well developed and there is enough banter to get a feel for the dry sense of humor that occurs among them. I for one enjoyed the character of Simeonie. I could just envision his deadpan expressions, which made me snicker the whole time he existed in the story. I didn’t particularly care for Guy as I did not like his arrogant and self-serving attitude. But hey, if you can love or hate a character in a novel, that’s a good thing.
The plot flows at a slower pace that what I’m accustomed to. But that’s probably the result of building a foreboding environment and developing a sense of doom.
Compass is definitely a novel for those readers that enjoy general fiction with a spash of cultural interest and adventure. Four stars.
I received a physical ARC from Publerati through Bookish First. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.
August 31, 2022
There is an significant line--you might call it "the Edge"--between do-ers and writers.
The do-ers hold readers' attention across centuries. They fascinate and inspire. But they are seldom good writers. Those who "do" often reveal extreme bias, a blindness to history. Those do-ers who try to write often diminish themselves. The do-ers who write well--John Krakauer, Patti Smith, baseball's Jim Bouton, Barack Obama--are rare as gemstones
The writers, on the other hand, often make incompetent adventurers, not for want of trying. Competence with the typewriter and an advanced grasp of vocabulary mean little to Nature or nation-building.
The main character of Compass is a chronicler of explorations who gets called out on his lack of knowledge about "The Edge," the hazy, arctic frontier between land and sea, made nebulous by ever-shifting ice. There is a lot about "Guy" that seems half-baked. In the eyes of other characters he comes across as pretentious and dissembling.
There is a greater "character" to be found in the book, however, and that is the nature of the Arctic itself, revealed by a first-time novelest but long-time traveler between the North and South (i.e. the lower Canadian provinces). Murray Lee, who has long practice medicine among the Inuit, brings real insight into the Arctic world and its people.
Guy's voyage to the geographical Edge pushes him beyond other edges: the line between sane and insane, between myth and history, between man and beast. Nothing is certain in the Artic's Edge: not the size of an ice floe, the length of a day, the thoughts of creatures on and around whatever patch of ice seems like "home." One of the books funniest takes is the difference between a guy who walks out of REI with the best arctic gear, and a guy dressed by in cast-off clothes by an Inuit grandmother.
Compass draws comparisons with Life of Pi, and they are apt. There are talking seals and walruses. Isolation and survival are two key themes. There is an epilogue at the end, using others' perspectives, that will make the reader want to re-read part one. I must say, however, that Compass is the funnier of the two; its setting more vividly described.
Like LOP, however, it takes Lee a long time to get to the plot. The first time through, the first 100 pages (Part 1) drag with descriptions of Inuit lore and life in the far north, but once Guy and his guide, Sim, set off for The Edge, I had trouble putting it down.
If there is a takeaway from this book that will stay with me, it is the aura of the arctic summer in which the novel is set--the murky daylight that shines at all hours, the disorientation one must feel without sunset to set the time.
Special thanks to NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy in return for this honest review.
The do-ers hold readers' attention across centuries. They fascinate and inspire. But they are seldom good writers. Those who "do" often reveal extreme bias, a blindness to history. Those do-ers who try to write often diminish themselves. The do-ers who write well--John Krakauer, Patti Smith, baseball's Jim Bouton, Barack Obama--are rare as gemstones
The writers, on the other hand, often make incompetent adventurers, not for want of trying. Competence with the typewriter and an advanced grasp of vocabulary mean little to Nature or nation-building.
The main character of Compass is a chronicler of explorations who gets called out on his lack of knowledge about "The Edge," the hazy, arctic frontier between land and sea, made nebulous by ever-shifting ice. There is a lot about "Guy" that seems half-baked. In the eyes of other characters he comes across as pretentious and dissembling.
There is a greater "character" to be found in the book, however, and that is the nature of the Arctic itself, revealed by a first-time novelest but long-time traveler between the North and South (i.e. the lower Canadian provinces). Murray Lee, who has long practice medicine among the Inuit, brings real insight into the Arctic world and its people.
Guy's voyage to the geographical Edge pushes him beyond other edges: the line between sane and insane, between myth and history, between man and beast. Nothing is certain in the Artic's Edge: not the size of an ice floe, the length of a day, the thoughts of creatures on and around whatever patch of ice seems like "home." One of the books funniest takes is the difference between a guy who walks out of REI with the best arctic gear, and a guy dressed by in cast-off clothes by an Inuit grandmother.
Compass draws comparisons with Life of Pi, and they are apt. There are talking seals and walruses. Isolation and survival are two key themes. There is an epilogue at the end, using others' perspectives, that will make the reader want to re-read part one. I must say, however, that Compass is the funnier of the two; its setting more vividly described.
Like LOP, however, it takes Lee a long time to get to the plot. The first time through, the first 100 pages (Part 1) drag with descriptions of Inuit lore and life in the far north, but once Guy and his guide, Sim, set off for The Edge, I had trouble putting it down.
If there is a takeaway from this book that will stay with me, it is the aura of the arctic summer in which the novel is set--the murky daylight that shines at all hours, the disorientation one must feel without sunset to set the time.
Special thanks to NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy in return for this honest review.
August 31, 2024
I am impressed and I haven't even read the entire book.
As someone who loves adventure travel, the title and summary of this book immediately caught my attention. And having known some suburban residents who earned money giving travel lectures on cruises when they weren't talking about all the aliens they've met, I *loved* the author's classic scene at the ship's bar with Rachel. I found myself nodding in agreement or entertainment with so many of the interesting sentences. "Survivors make shitty storytellers" made me wonder what was coming. I also smiled at the author's honesty that he traveled a pale, wealthy world to tell stories that convinced pasty they, too, actually had a spirit of adventure. Having read the sample pages, I understand all of the praise from those who have had the pleasure of reading this.
As someone who loves adventure travel, the title and summary of this book immediately caught my attention. And having known some suburban residents who earned money giving travel lectures on cruises when they weren't talking about all the aliens they've met, I *loved* the author's classic scene at the ship's bar with Rachel. I found myself nodding in agreement or entertainment with so many of the interesting sentences. "Survivors make shitty storytellers" made me wonder what was coming. I also smiled at the author's honesty that he traveled a pale, wealthy world to tell stories that convinced pasty they, too, actually had a spirit of adventure. Having read the sample pages, I understand all of the praise from those who have had the pleasure of reading this.
October 1, 2022
My review for the Minneapolis Star Tribune: https://www.startribune.com/review-co...
All "survival" means is the state or fact of continuing to live. Yet within that act exist endless possibilities and permutations for drama. From Daniel Defoe's "Robinson Crusoe" to Gary Paulsen's "Hatchet," survival stories hold an archetypal allure. It's captivating to read about luckless individuals questionably matched to their calamitous circumstances who must attempt to extricate themselves from the jaws of death and go on living.
In his debut novel, "Compass," Murray Lee offers his entry into this capacious subgenre. Set in the Canadian territory of Nunavat in an Indigenous community not unlike Naujaat, the one Lee has worked in for the past 15 years as a fly-in doctor, "Compass" draws on its author's understanding of the culture and terrain of the globe's extreme north.
His witty eye for detail is on display throughout, as when he writes, "The terminal building at Iviliiq wasn't like a shipping container, it was a shipping container."
As survival stories go, Lee's leans less into the awe-inspiring and more into the absurd, a fitting approach considering that one of his aims is to puncture the myth of the stoic and heroically conquering white male adventurer.
The hapless first-person narrator's nickname "Guy" is bestowed upon him by his Inuit guide Simeonie, and it speaks to his personality as a fumbling everyman, self-aware yet vain and overconfident, a puffed-up clown destined to receive a comeuppance.
Formerly an academic, Guy has become a two-bit cruise ship historian "dressed up like Indiana Jones" convincing "auditoriums full of soft, pasty people that somehow, miraculously, adventure is within us all" while in the employ of "a preeminent international geography magazine which, due to recent events, I am no longer permitted to name."
Much of Guy's professional storytelling ethos stems from his firsthand descriptions of "a crucial piece of traditional Arctic infrastructure," the point "some ways out where the sea's solid surface stops and the ocean becomes fluid again," a place the Inuit call the Edge. The only problem is that Guy has never been there. When at last he gets caught in this fundamental falsehood, he takes it upon himself to go to the Edge to correct his dishonesty and restore his reputation.
Before his departure, Simeonie's mother, Ava Angalaarjuk, tells Guy the story of Sedna, goddess of the sea. On the ill-advised expedition, after a snowmobile accident and a tragic mishap, Guy finds himself utterly alone, "adrift on an ice floe at the start of Arctic summer" with "no way to contact anyone anywhere in the world, and, quite possibly, nobody who would" miss him.
As his hallucinatory isolation drags on, talking seals and Sedna's walrus emissary seem to visit him, playing havoc with his belongings and his sanity and offering critique.
Lee has fun depicting Guy as he farcically contends with sunburnt eyes, potential starvation, and 24-hour sunlight, but this humor serves a dead serious purpose, showing the "litany of offenses" outsiders commit when they force their way into places where they don't belong.
All "survival" means is the state or fact of continuing to live. Yet within that act exist endless possibilities and permutations for drama. From Daniel Defoe's "Robinson Crusoe" to Gary Paulsen's "Hatchet," survival stories hold an archetypal allure. It's captivating to read about luckless individuals questionably matched to their calamitous circumstances who must attempt to extricate themselves from the jaws of death and go on living.
In his debut novel, "Compass," Murray Lee offers his entry into this capacious subgenre. Set in the Canadian territory of Nunavat in an Indigenous community not unlike Naujaat, the one Lee has worked in for the past 15 years as a fly-in doctor, "Compass" draws on its author's understanding of the culture and terrain of the globe's extreme north.
His witty eye for detail is on display throughout, as when he writes, "The terminal building at Iviliiq wasn't like a shipping container, it was a shipping container."
As survival stories go, Lee's leans less into the awe-inspiring and more into the absurd, a fitting approach considering that one of his aims is to puncture the myth of the stoic and heroically conquering white male adventurer.
The hapless first-person narrator's nickname "Guy" is bestowed upon him by his Inuit guide Simeonie, and it speaks to his personality as a fumbling everyman, self-aware yet vain and overconfident, a puffed-up clown destined to receive a comeuppance.
Formerly an academic, Guy has become a two-bit cruise ship historian "dressed up like Indiana Jones" convincing "auditoriums full of soft, pasty people that somehow, miraculously, adventure is within us all" while in the employ of "a preeminent international geography magazine which, due to recent events, I am no longer permitted to name."
Much of Guy's professional storytelling ethos stems from his firsthand descriptions of "a crucial piece of traditional Arctic infrastructure," the point "some ways out where the sea's solid surface stops and the ocean becomes fluid again," a place the Inuit call the Edge. The only problem is that Guy has never been there. When at last he gets caught in this fundamental falsehood, he takes it upon himself to go to the Edge to correct his dishonesty and restore his reputation.
Before his departure, Simeonie's mother, Ava Angalaarjuk, tells Guy the story of Sedna, goddess of the sea. On the ill-advised expedition, after a snowmobile accident and a tragic mishap, Guy finds himself utterly alone, "adrift on an ice floe at the start of Arctic summer" with "no way to contact anyone anywhere in the world, and, quite possibly, nobody who would" miss him.
As his hallucinatory isolation drags on, talking seals and Sedna's walrus emissary seem to visit him, playing havoc with his belongings and his sanity and offering critique.
Lee has fun depicting Guy as he farcically contends with sunburnt eyes, potential starvation, and 24-hour sunlight, but this humor serves a dead serious purpose, showing the "litany of offenses" outsiders commit when they force their way into places where they don't belong.
July 9, 2022
Listen. I’ve got a lot of thoughts about this book. I am always wary of white men (as a rule) writing stories involving indigenous cultures. Luckily, that wasn’t what this story was, really. I’ll start with the writing.
The writing is vivid and detailed and it definitely reads like you’re reading the journal of a lost man slowly losing his mind. The rich descriptions really help build the world of the Arctic and place the reader in the setting. The description of camaraderie in the native village is personal and well researched. You can tell the author has spent time within the Inuit community and does a wonderful job paying respect to all aspects of arctic life. As I mentioned, I was worried it would be whitewashed and riddle with a hero complex (I had no clue what to expect) but I didn’t gather that feeling at all. Yes, the main character is a dick, but the author’s handling of the native lore and culture is sensitive and pleasant. (I realize this is a white woman’s opinion on something I don’t really have a right to an opinion on but it didn’t give me the ick, so..)
If the main character is meant to come off as an arrogant asshole, well done (If that’s you’re writing style, I’m so sorry). He definitely captured that White Guy “Adventurer”™️ (colonizer) feel with him. He’s still fairly respectful of the culture while he’s in it, but it is definitely only because he wants something.
“‘So many words,’ she had written. “‘So little meaning.’”
He also comes across as a bit of a male chauvinist. From blatantly copying research tactics from a younger student to his description of a statue of the sea goddess Sedna, he gave me the ick. However, you can’t help but keep reading. You have to know how it ends for him. If he gets his just desserts.
This book was unlike any of my usual preferences. That being said, I quite enjoyed it. It was a little heavy in the descriptions at times but it was riveting and compelled me to keep reading. If you love an adventure story and a “man vs… well everything” type story, this is definitely the book for you. I could see this being adapted into a movie.
The writing is vivid and detailed and it definitely reads like you’re reading the journal of a lost man slowly losing his mind. The rich descriptions really help build the world of the Arctic and place the reader in the setting. The description of camaraderie in the native village is personal and well researched. You can tell the author has spent time within the Inuit community and does a wonderful job paying respect to all aspects of arctic life. As I mentioned, I was worried it would be whitewashed and riddle with a hero complex (I had no clue what to expect) but I didn’t gather that feeling at all. Yes, the main character is a dick, but the author’s handling of the native lore and culture is sensitive and pleasant. (I realize this is a white woman’s opinion on something I don’t really have a right to an opinion on but it didn’t give me the ick, so..)
If the main character is meant to come off as an arrogant asshole, well done (If that’s you’re writing style, I’m so sorry). He definitely captured that White Guy “Adventurer”™️ (colonizer) feel with him. He’s still fairly respectful of the culture while he’s in it, but it is definitely only because he wants something.
“‘So many words,’ she had written. “‘So little meaning.’”
He also comes across as a bit of a male chauvinist. From blatantly copying research tactics from a younger student to his description of a statue of the sea goddess Sedna, he gave me the ick. However, you can’t help but keep reading. You have to know how it ends for him. If he gets his just desserts.
This book was unlike any of my usual preferences. That being said, I quite enjoyed it. It was a little heavy in the descriptions at times but it was riveting and compelled me to keep reading. If you love an adventure story and a “man vs… well everything” type story, this is definitely the book for you. I could see this being adapted into a movie.
May 14, 2025
COMPASS brings about the collision of the South and the North, the spirit and the body, the idea of survival and its spartan reality. In the Arctic, an anonymous writer, dubbed ‘Guy’ by his local Inuit guide, sets out to glimpse The Edge for himself.
Where the ocean seeps into the sky, he hopes to blur the gap inside him. But what he ends up enduring there leaves him permanently inverted.
Despite the severity of the world Guy slips into, the novel itself is truly, shockingly funny. This ambush firmly dislodges expectation from reality, enhancing the ambiguity of the events to come. Suffice to say, his comical outlook on life — forever chasing its prime — is filled with enough zingers to startle a squeal out of the most somber reader.
The friction between the protagonist and the tedium of life in the Arctic gives way to a memorable account of insomnia. The state he’s in is as relentless as it is disorienting, and leaves him floundering through several insanity-driven impulses.
The protagonist’s focus on the suspension of time produces a tale that is as amusing as it is tinged with despair, foreshadowing a fierce overlap of sensation. And there’s a certain ingenuity in Lee’s treatment of time. Handled differently across cultures, it’s nevertheless an abstract notion that we have all subdued with logic.
By wrapping the narrative around the Inuit community’s unique interaction with it, the author allows an unfamiliar land to appear accessible. What’s more, the cultural clashes rocking Guy’s frame stir the muteness of the land, turning his imprint into a neverending source of drollery.
The story’s absurdity reaches its climax shortly before the long-awaited departure for the floe edge. And yet, the trip’s swift unraveling soon catches up to the Kafkaesque levels of surrealism that preceded it. That’s because giving up on the convention of time loosens up the narrative, allowing illusion and fabrication to pitch an entirely separate reality.
We experience a blend of the surreal and the acutely physical. While putting the body through its paces, the protagonist is propelled towards heated, two-way arguments with creatures native to the land. And yet, the mysticism of these interactions is never addressed outright.
Instead, his psyche — the fabric of which is under constant strain — takes it in as something inherent to the Arctic, both feral and wildly misjudged. His step towards madness is, in many ways, masked by the very fluidity of movement demanded of him.
The smoothness of this transition leads us to a very unsettling realization. Namely, that cause and effect are not all that distinguishable away from the sterile plane of civilization.
The protagonist is so imperfect that, to many, he may appear as an anti-hero. But, having admitted to appropriating his colleagues’ work to advance his own career, he betrays a note of compelling self-awareness. The prospect of death is consequently treated as an end resisted by biological instincts, not the smothering of a bombastic mind.
His life is no more meaningful than that of the next person, the resonance of his name is faint enough to prove inconsequential. He’s everyone, and he’s no one. This is why his story holds so much appeal, and why the reader has no choice but to persist.
To learn the end of his journey is to have glimpsed the potential outcome of one’s own behavior in similar circumstances. The fact that this process of self-discovery is compressed between layers of witty, delightful prose is an added reward; one that speaks to Lee’s innate talent.
The story is told retrospectively, fostering a foreboding sense of things to come. And in this deeply immersive world, where language serves as a metaphysical portal, emotion prevails over action.
That is to say, on the face of it, not much happens following the story’s pivotal — albeit quiet — tragedy. Guy’s memory of it transforms into a black hole, into which his senses are tossed. Always with a certain levity, though.
Instead of sensationalist events, we’re mesmerized by the point of hysteria that can be reached — and sustained — during a moment of stillness. Lee captures the static din of distress exceptionally well. So well, in fact, that it feels like a pinprick drawn along the edge of consciousness.
As such, it mirrors Guy’s physical entrapment in the open spaces of the Arctic. This produces a sense of disorientation, leaving the sky at our feet and the sun dragged from spot to spot by ocean currents.
Again, time is wrung and dissected. The body is made into a clock, turning the environment into a commodity that’s decidedly scornful of reason. And so, Guy’s sleeplessness creates an “undiluted intensity” that expresses elements of the subconscious.
COMPASS’ world is an unruly one, fixed in a place of constant reactivation. The protagonist, overwhelmed by how impotent he is in the face of it, morphs into a modern-day Robinson Crusoe. But where myth and truth merge, a mystery is born; one that leaves him estranged from the human world that pulls him back.
Overall, Lee’s novel is a debut of startling prowess. Fiercely-written prose pinches the folds of the narrative to form a tale of survival; one that drifts along with the current of its underlying mysticism. Above all, the ambiguity of both deed and thought is allowed to outlive the last page, paying heed to the ferocity of the unknown.
Where the ocean seeps into the sky, he hopes to blur the gap inside him. But what he ends up enduring there leaves him permanently inverted.
Despite the severity of the world Guy slips into, the novel itself is truly, shockingly funny. This ambush firmly dislodges expectation from reality, enhancing the ambiguity of the events to come. Suffice to say, his comical outlook on life — forever chasing its prime — is filled with enough zingers to startle a squeal out of the most somber reader.
The friction between the protagonist and the tedium of life in the Arctic gives way to a memorable account of insomnia. The state he’s in is as relentless as it is disorienting, and leaves him floundering through several insanity-driven impulses.
The protagonist’s focus on the suspension of time produces a tale that is as amusing as it is tinged with despair, foreshadowing a fierce overlap of sensation. And there’s a certain ingenuity in Lee’s treatment of time. Handled differently across cultures, it’s nevertheless an abstract notion that we have all subdued with logic.
By wrapping the narrative around the Inuit community’s unique interaction with it, the author allows an unfamiliar land to appear accessible. What’s more, the cultural clashes rocking Guy’s frame stir the muteness of the land, turning his imprint into a neverending source of drollery.
The story’s absurdity reaches its climax shortly before the long-awaited departure for the floe edge. And yet, the trip’s swift unraveling soon catches up to the Kafkaesque levels of surrealism that preceded it. That’s because giving up on the convention of time loosens up the narrative, allowing illusion and fabrication to pitch an entirely separate reality.
We experience a blend of the surreal and the acutely physical. While putting the body through its paces, the protagonist is propelled towards heated, two-way arguments with creatures native to the land. And yet, the mysticism of these interactions is never addressed outright.
Instead, his psyche — the fabric of which is under constant strain — takes it in as something inherent to the Arctic, both feral and wildly misjudged. His step towards madness is, in many ways, masked by the very fluidity of movement demanded of him.
The smoothness of this transition leads us to a very unsettling realization. Namely, that cause and effect are not all that distinguishable away from the sterile plane of civilization.
The protagonist is so imperfect that, to many, he may appear as an anti-hero. But, having admitted to appropriating his colleagues’ work to advance his own career, he betrays a note of compelling self-awareness. The prospect of death is consequently treated as an end resisted by biological instincts, not the smothering of a bombastic mind.
His life is no more meaningful than that of the next person, the resonance of his name is faint enough to prove inconsequential. He’s everyone, and he’s no one. This is why his story holds so much appeal, and why the reader has no choice but to persist.
To learn the end of his journey is to have glimpsed the potential outcome of one’s own behavior in similar circumstances. The fact that this process of self-discovery is compressed between layers of witty, delightful prose is an added reward; one that speaks to Lee’s innate talent.
The story is told retrospectively, fostering a foreboding sense of things to come. And in this deeply immersive world, where language serves as a metaphysical portal, emotion prevails over action.
That is to say, on the face of it, not much happens following the story’s pivotal — albeit quiet — tragedy. Guy’s memory of it transforms into a black hole, into which his senses are tossed. Always with a certain levity, though.
Instead of sensationalist events, we’re mesmerized by the point of hysteria that can be reached — and sustained — during a moment of stillness. Lee captures the static din of distress exceptionally well. So well, in fact, that it feels like a pinprick drawn along the edge of consciousness.
As such, it mirrors Guy’s physical entrapment in the open spaces of the Arctic. This produces a sense of disorientation, leaving the sky at our feet and the sun dragged from spot to spot by ocean currents.
Again, time is wrung and dissected. The body is made into a clock, turning the environment into a commodity that’s decidedly scornful of reason. And so, Guy’s sleeplessness creates an “undiluted intensity” that expresses elements of the subconscious.
COMPASS’ world is an unruly one, fixed in a place of constant reactivation. The protagonist, overwhelmed by how impotent he is in the face of it, morphs into a modern-day Robinson Crusoe. But where myth and truth merge, a mystery is born; one that leaves him estranged from the human world that pulls him back.
Overall, Lee’s novel is a debut of startling prowess. Fiercely-written prose pinches the folds of the narrative to form a tale of survival; one that drifts along with the current of its underlying mysticism. Above all, the ambiguity of both deed and thought is allowed to outlive the last page, paying heed to the ferocity of the unknown.
June 2, 2022
Thank you to Bookishfirst and Publerati for this ARC. All opinions are my own.
Compass by Murray Lee is a story about a historian/author that gets called out because he's never seen the floe edge, where ice meets the open water of the Arctic. His historical expertise is based on adventurers who met their untimely end, and he writes books based on their journals that are left behind and other witness accounts if there are any. Thus, he sets out on his own adventure to see the floe edge.
The book starts off slow at first, but then really picks up by Part 2. I did not want to put it down after that. It is written well, and is quite funny at times, but it definitely is a dark fiction type book. I never knew of Inuit mythology, so it was cool to learn about the sad and tragic story of Sedna, which is a major theme of the book. It does get graphic about dismemberment and hunting at times, so if this makes you queasy, I would not read it.
It was a great book, and made me laugh out loud. If you like dark fiction, learning about Inuit culture as an outsider, and Cast Away, I'd recommend this book.
Compass by Murray Lee is a story about a historian/author that gets called out because he's never seen the floe edge, where ice meets the open water of the Arctic. His historical expertise is based on adventurers who met their untimely end, and he writes books based on their journals that are left behind and other witness accounts if there are any. Thus, he sets out on his own adventure to see the floe edge.
The book starts off slow at first, but then really picks up by Part 2. I did not want to put it down after that. It is written well, and is quite funny at times, but it definitely is a dark fiction type book. I never knew of Inuit mythology, so it was cool to learn about the sad and tragic story of Sedna, which is a major theme of the book. It does get graphic about dismemberment and hunting at times, so if this makes you queasy, I would not read it.
It was a great book, and made me laugh out loud. If you like dark fiction, learning about Inuit culture as an outsider, and Cast Away, I'd recommend this book.
June 24, 2022
Thoroughly enjoyable, though the bigger picture is rather harrowing Mr. Lee's focus on the mundane moments and interactions are hilarious. I laughed my way through our hero's pain as he flailed his way through a magical arctic misadventure. Highly recommended reading!
I recieved an ARC through PW's promotion and only wish to express my appreciation, as I am in no way affiliated with the publisher or author.
I recieved an ARC through PW's promotion and only wish to express my appreciation, as I am in no way affiliated with the publisher or author.
July 23, 2022
Thank you to Netgalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
So this book is comparing itself to Life of Pi. Which just happens to be a book I absolutely love. There are certainly superficial similarities to Life of Pi, but Compass is nowhere near as good as Life of Pi.
At the heart of this book is the type of character I find infuriating: entitled white men who go around bumbling through life, often causing some measure of harm to others (in this book some very substantial, real harm to others), oblivious to that harm, with few consequences to themselves. And that type of person drives me crazy. (Especially since I know people like that.)
I have mixed feelings about this book. The prologue was interesting and got me reading. Part 1 was deadly dull, very slow and made me want to quit. It did get a lot more interesting in Part 2 though, when Guy finds himself stranded on an ice floe in the Arctic trying to figure out how to survive.
We know up front he gets rescued (that's not a spoiler, it's literally in the prologue). So it's just a matter of us seeing how he manages to stay alive until that happens. But still, he does stupid things along the way, and frankly, he's responsible for being in this situation to begin with, his own stupidity is what gets him there. And the lack of real consequences, that's what is making me feel I didn't like this book as much as I could have.
Some of that is addressed in the Epilogue, but I found the Epilogue a bit mean spirited and it makes me wonder how the author feels about this character of his to begin with.
I think the writing was good (once in Part 2), and the story is almost compelling.
But mostly, this makes me want to revisit Life of Pi.
So this book is comparing itself to Life of Pi. Which just happens to be a book I absolutely love. There are certainly superficial similarities to Life of Pi, but Compass is nowhere near as good as Life of Pi.
At the heart of this book is the type of character I find infuriating: entitled white men who go around bumbling through life, often causing some measure of harm to others (in this book some very substantial, real harm to others), oblivious to that harm, with few consequences to themselves. And that type of person drives me crazy. (Especially since I know people like that.)
I have mixed feelings about this book. The prologue was interesting and got me reading. Part 1 was deadly dull, very slow and made me want to quit. It did get a lot more interesting in Part 2 though, when Guy finds himself stranded on an ice floe in the Arctic trying to figure out how to survive.
We know up front he gets rescued (that's not a spoiler, it's literally in the prologue). So it's just a matter of us seeing how he manages to stay alive until that happens. But still, he does stupid things along the way, and frankly, he's responsible for being in this situation to begin with, his own stupidity is what gets him there. And the lack of real consequences, that's what is making me feel I didn't like this book as much as I could have.
Some of that is addressed in the Epilogue, but I found the Epilogue a bit mean spirited and it makes me wonder how the author feels about this character of his to begin with.
I think the writing was good (once in Part 2), and the story is almost compelling.
But mostly, this makes me want to revisit Life of Pi.
July 17, 2022
A modern classic - absolutely superb in every way.
September 14, 2022
Did you ever read stories of the explorers of the 19th and 20th centuries, some maybe earlier, and thought "I'd like to do that"? Really, did you? I read the stories, and I have to admit I was very glad to be in my reading chair with my pole lamp, my hot tea, and my book. You won't get me out there in the wild, and this book is a very good reason why. I'm too much like the inept hero.
Our nameless narrator has, for many years, either written the stories for a diminishing audience or given lectures in the infotainment industry supported by museums and cruise ships. He's been doing this complete with props, pretending he's one of the explorers who's lives he talks about. He gets challenged to prove he's as adventurous as the men he lectures about. To show his bonafides, he decides to go to the EDGE, the place where ice and sea meet. A more ill-advised journey was never contemplated, nor attempted by one so ill-prepared.
The novel is written in a memoir style. We go step by step into disaster with our guide and his soon lost guide. Many points in time he could have stopped, but he was impelled to run headlong into his poor destiny. We go laughing along.
I was very glad, reading this book, to be safely at home. I think you will be also. Read this cautionary tale as the gift it is and be happy.
I received the copy of the book I read for this review from the publisher through a Goodreads contest.
Our nameless narrator has, for many years, either written the stories for a diminishing audience or given lectures in the infotainment industry supported by museums and cruise ships. He's been doing this complete with props, pretending he's one of the explorers who's lives he talks about. He gets challenged to prove he's as adventurous as the men he lectures about. To show his bonafides, he decides to go to the EDGE, the place where ice and sea meet. A more ill-advised journey was never contemplated, nor attempted by one so ill-prepared.
The novel is written in a memoir style. We go step by step into disaster with our guide and his soon lost guide. Many points in time he could have stopped, but he was impelled to run headlong into his poor destiny. We go laughing along.
I was very glad, reading this book, to be safely at home. I think you will be also. Read this cautionary tale as the gift it is and be happy.
I received the copy of the book I read for this review from the publisher through a Goodreads contest.
June 8, 2022
Compass is a hilarious story about an "adventurer" and what happens when he stops making things up and actually ends up on an adventure. It is nuts. The description says that it follows an ill-advised and poorly planned trip to the Arctic floe edge under the disorienting twenty-four-hour summer sun. When the ice breaks and his guide disappears, the narrator ends up alone and adrift in the hostile northern sea. He draws on his knowledge of historic expeditions to craft his own, inept, attempt at survival. In the beginning, he is kind of forced to go on this trip when a person he works with catches on to his scam. She knows he has not been to the place he was lecturing about and tells him he needs to go. She names a guide friend of hers that would help him on his journey. So whatever can go wrong, does go wrong. The main character is insufferable but also one of the funniest I have come across in some time. This book is a great adventure from the get-go and well worth a place on your shelf.
June 24, 2022
This book is one that definitely challenges my typical go to when it comes to genres or books that I choose to read. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this book. I really liked the author's writing style and personally felt it was quite different and unique from other books I've read. One of my favorite things about this book is the character development and how much I fell in love with the character. I also thought that the cover to this book was quite unique and interesting. I thought it was also an interesting decision to just use "Guy" instead of an actual name.
As much as I enjoyed the book, I did think it started off a little slow for me. I typically like to be hooked from the beginning but this one took me a bit to start to feel engaged and hooked. However, after getting into a bit I really enjoyed it and am glad that I took the time to read this book.
As much as I enjoyed the book, I did think it started off a little slow for me. I typically like to be hooked from the beginning but this one took me a bit to start to feel engaged and hooked. However, after getting into a bit I really enjoyed it and am glad that I took the time to read this book.
November 27, 2024
This is one of the best books I've read all year. To be fair, that may just be because it ticks a lot of boxes for me personally, but this was SO GOOD.
Our unnamed narrator, known only as Guy, is a divorced former academic who writes pop history books and gives lectures on cruise ships that travel Arctic waters. When it comes to light that he's never seen The Edge, the place with the ice meets the open sea, he feels he has to see it to maintain his cred. He travels to a tiny town in Nunavut and hires a guide to take him out on the ice, an ill advised trip to be completed at high summer.
Dr Murray Lee has spent 20 years as a fly in physician in Canada's North, and knows whereof he speaks in terms of being an outside in the Arctic, and what the landscape is like. I haven't been to Nunavut, but I have been to other parts of the North, far enough to have spent a few weeks in the unending sun of summer. Lee does a perfect job capturing what it's like to be in a world where it's never too dark to read a book, and does a masterful job of creating an outsider character. I won't tell you too much about Guy or what happens to him, because discovering that is part of the fun, but this was excellent, and the plotting, character and atmosphere are all top notch here.
My only regret is that I didn't pick this for book club, because I think there would have been A LOT to talk about here. If any of this sounds even remotely appealing to you, do yourself a favour and pick this up.
Our unnamed narrator, known only as Guy, is a divorced former academic who writes pop history books and gives lectures on cruise ships that travel Arctic waters. When it comes to light that he's never seen The Edge, the place with the ice meets the open sea, he feels he has to see it to maintain his cred. He travels to a tiny town in Nunavut and hires a guide to take him out on the ice, an ill advised trip to be completed at high summer.
Dr Murray Lee has spent 20 years as a fly in physician in Canada's North, and knows whereof he speaks in terms of being an outside in the Arctic, and what the landscape is like. I haven't been to Nunavut, but I have been to other parts of the North, far enough to have spent a few weeks in the unending sun of summer. Lee does a perfect job capturing what it's like to be in a world where it's never too dark to read a book, and does a masterful job of creating an outsider character. I won't tell you too much about Guy or what happens to him, because discovering that is part of the fun, but this was excellent, and the plotting, character and atmosphere are all top notch here.
My only regret is that I didn't pick this for book club, because I think there would have been A LOT to talk about here. If any of this sounds even remotely appealing to you, do yourself a favour and pick this up.
September 22, 2022
Pub Date 9/27/22
An ARC of this book was provided to me by Publerati. The opinions are my own and freely given.
I have a minor infatuation, or you could say obsession with Canada, although I am cold all the time, so I don't think I would last very long. However, when I got this book, I was intrigued. I have a fear of water, but the fear of being trapped under the ice is right up there. "Guy" ventures to The Floe, known as The Edge, in the Arctic with nothing but ice and water around, the sun never setting and nothing but seals for company.
He has been left all alone with limited supplies and limited wilderness skills (when it comes to the Arctic.) With no track of time, not being able to tell day from night, he makes the most of the situation he has, hoping that a rescue crew is on the way. There is a point when frustration gets to him. He is worried about snow blindness, and various injuries have occurred. He has conversations with many animals.
Trigger warning, there is a part in which he tries to work up the courage to commit suicide. When the desperation gets to be too much for him. There is also a graphic scene with a polar bear, in which Guy has to defend himself.
The village in Nunavut is very descriptive. I appreciated reading about the culture and beliefs of the native people. This was not a very fast-paced book, but it held my attention. Unfortunately, I felt like the end fell just a little flat. Without giving away too much, the epilogue speaks to his mental health, so I feel like that should have been addressed more. It ws only the last chapter that I found lacking. Because of this, my true rating is 3.5
Thank you to Murray Lee and Publerati.
An ARC of this book was provided to me by Publerati. The opinions are my own and freely given.
I have a minor infatuation, or you could say obsession with Canada, although I am cold all the time, so I don't think I would last very long. However, when I got this book, I was intrigued. I have a fear of water, but the fear of being trapped under the ice is right up there. "Guy" ventures to The Floe, known as The Edge, in the Arctic with nothing but ice and water around, the sun never setting and nothing but seals for company.
He has been left all alone with limited supplies and limited wilderness skills (when it comes to the Arctic.) With no track of time, not being able to tell day from night, he makes the most of the situation he has, hoping that a rescue crew is on the way. There is a point when frustration gets to him. He is worried about snow blindness, and various injuries have occurred. He has conversations with many animals.
Trigger warning, there is a part in which he tries to work up the courage to commit suicide. When the desperation gets to be too much for him. There is also a graphic scene with a polar bear, in which Guy has to defend himself.
The village in Nunavut is very descriptive. I appreciated reading about the culture and beliefs of the native people. This was not a very fast-paced book, but it held my attention. Unfortunately, I felt like the end fell just a little flat. Without giving away too much, the epilogue speaks to his mental health, so I feel like that should have been addressed more. It ws only the last chapter that I found lacking. Because of this, my true rating is 3.5
Thank you to Murray Lee and Publerati.
October 12, 2022
Compass is a book told by an unreliable unlikeable white narrator “Guy” who is a former academic (likely a failed academic) who has become an author writing the tales of other white explorers. You know Guy isn’t his real name and he is meant to show all the white hubris of explorers who have made similar stumbles into the polar regions.
The Inuit town and various townspeople are the most developed in the book and are definitely set as a foil to one dimensional Guy. He is determined to see the Edge where land, ice, and ocean all meet in the Arctic. Unsurprisingly the trip goes astray and it becomes a novel of survival.
I enjoyed it as a love story to the Arctic circle and to the Inuit people and their lifestyle. For me, it failed as capturing all the harm white man has done to both. Several elements of the story didn’t seem to tie in to the story arc and added to it not landing right.
The Inuit town and various townspeople are the most developed in the book and are definitely set as a foil to one dimensional Guy. He is determined to see the Edge where land, ice, and ocean all meet in the Arctic. Unsurprisingly the trip goes astray and it becomes a novel of survival.
I enjoyed it as a love story to the Arctic circle and to the Inuit people and their lifestyle. For me, it failed as capturing all the harm white man has done to both. Several elements of the story didn’t seem to tie in to the story arc and added to it not landing right.
September 21, 2022
It's hard to believe that Compass is Murray Lee's debut novel. Even so, it's obvious from page one that we are in the hands of an adept storyteller.
The unnamed protagonist -- dubbed "Guy" by his laconic guide Simeonie -- is a professional lecturer regaling audiences with tales of historic explorers and adventurers aboard luxury cruise ships. When he was called out by a colleague as somewhat of an imposter, he decides to undertake a very ill-fated trip to see the arctic floe edge where the ice ends and the sea begins. What ensues is a deadly serious misadventure rendered somewhat hilarious by the sheer force of Murray Lee's excellent writing. This book will appeal to fans of books like Life of Pi and Andrew Sean Greer's Less.
Let's hope we see more of Murray Lee's writing in the future!
The unnamed protagonist -- dubbed "Guy" by his laconic guide Simeonie -- is a professional lecturer regaling audiences with tales of historic explorers and adventurers aboard luxury cruise ships. When he was called out by a colleague as somewhat of an imposter, he decides to undertake a very ill-fated trip to see the arctic floe edge where the ice ends and the sea begins. What ensues is a deadly serious misadventure rendered somewhat hilarious by the sheer force of Murray Lee's excellent writing. This book will appeal to fans of books like Life of Pi and Andrew Sean Greer's Less.
Let's hope we see more of Murray Lee's writing in the future!
January 19, 2024
4.5 stars
September 15, 2022
The First Look of this book that I read was interesting, but the actual book was better. The book was layered with so many lessons that weren't overt. I also loved how the book was written, however I was at times confused about the fact that I was reading a journal rather than the story as it was happening.
I think that Guy is the main character that you want in all books. He is a bit aloof and just focused on himself alone. That can be seen in how his academic colleague identified him at the end of the book. But I would like to believe that outside of him not being able to stay one dry land, that he did actually learn something while he was at The Edge, but the way that the ending was written it was very hard to tell if that happened. And that was the main thing that was missing for me overall. I like a book that has a clear ending and it doesn't leave you to wonder if it all worked out for the best in the end.
I think that Guy is the main character that you want in all books. He is a bit aloof and just focused on himself alone. That can be seen in how his academic colleague identified him at the end of the book. But I would like to believe that outside of him not being able to stay one dry land, that he did actually learn something while he was at The Edge, but the way that the ending was written it was very hard to tell if that happened. And that was the main thing that was missing for me overall. I like a book that has a clear ending and it doesn't leave you to wonder if it all worked out for the best in the end.
September 2, 2022
In Murray Lee’s debut novel, Compass, the author takes us on a journey to the Arctic we are not soon to forget. It’s a first-person recount of a harrowing trip to a place called the edge where the ice meets the open ocean. Our protagonist, historian and fading teller of adventurers’ tales, is thirsty for adventure after years of posing as a sort of Indiana Jones on the blue hair speaking tour. His reluctant Inuit guide Simeonie signs on to deliver him to his destination and back and we are brought along on the quest as the pair go off the rails and Lee shifts the bounds of time, space and reality. It’s a descent into madness as two men face their own mortality in the stripped down conditions of a land where people’s lives are tightly woven into the lives of animals. Lee keeps us highly entertained and on edge throughout wondering what’s real, and what’s not, and whether one man’s arrogance will be the end of him.
September 13, 2022
COMPASS is the best book I've read in at least a decade.
The story follows an unnamed professional raconteur who has been making a living by telling stories about brave white explorers to audiences on cruise ships, affecting personal experience he does not in fact have, and cashing in on histories heavily edited to be inspiring tales of heroism rather than the often foolhardy, poorly planned, catastrophic expeditions they actually were. When a colleague calls him on the lie that he's been to the Arctic Floe Edge, the line where the ice—an extension of the land—stops and the sea begins, he sets out on his own expedition, as ill-conceived as anything in history.
What ensues as "Guy" (so called by his Inuit guide, Simeonie) travels from the village of Iviliiq to the Edge is both fascinating and hilarious, and at the same time terrifying, since Guy's purely theoretical knowledge of the Arctic almost immediately begins to cause problems, some of which escalate quickly into disaster and tragedy. Almost before he realizes it, Guy's struggling for his very life.
One of the things that makes COMPASS work so well on so many levels is its multilayered self-awareness. Guy has just enough understanding of himself to make him the perfect narrator. He's only semi-reliable, as adept at lying to himself as to his audiences. We can’t help but like him, though, because his intentions aren't evil or wicked. He's just a well-intentioned, well-educated, middle-aged white guy. But if there's anything Guy should have learned from the "heroic" tales he peddled, it's that well-intentioned, well-educated, middle-aged white guys tend to do a lot of damage, and it's obvious that author Murray Lee understands that, even while his protagonist is careening naively and catastrophically around the Arctic.
Another thing that makes the novel a delight is the humor. It's seriously, laugh-out-loud funny throughout. We're not talking easy laughs, either, but the genuine "didn't see that coming" juxtapositions that make you bark like a seal.
Which leads me to my favorite thing about the book, which is Murray Lee's writing. It is, in a word, gorgeous. Not in a self-conscious, overly stylistic way that screams "look at me, I'm a fancy writer!" but in a masterful way that uses word choice, rhythm, flow, balance, and grace to convey nuances and subtleties of meaning, and quite often make you stop to savor them. It's vivid, clever, and elegant.
COMPASS is that rara avis, a novel that's beautifully written and page-turningly suspenseful. It's insightful, informative, hilarious, and surprisingly poignant. I cannot recommend it enough.
(Full disclosure: the author very kindly mentions me in the acknowledgements because I was fortunate enough to be able to provide him with some early feedback and support. However, I want to state emphatically that I did very little. The drafts I read of COMPASS years ago were substantially identical to the published version, so though I have a policy of not reviewing the books of authors I've worked with, I don't feel like it's an ethical violation in this case.)
The story follows an unnamed professional raconteur who has been making a living by telling stories about brave white explorers to audiences on cruise ships, affecting personal experience he does not in fact have, and cashing in on histories heavily edited to be inspiring tales of heroism rather than the often foolhardy, poorly planned, catastrophic expeditions they actually were. When a colleague calls him on the lie that he's been to the Arctic Floe Edge, the line where the ice—an extension of the land—stops and the sea begins, he sets out on his own expedition, as ill-conceived as anything in history.
What ensues as "Guy" (so called by his Inuit guide, Simeonie) travels from the village of Iviliiq to the Edge is both fascinating and hilarious, and at the same time terrifying, since Guy's purely theoretical knowledge of the Arctic almost immediately begins to cause problems, some of which escalate quickly into disaster and tragedy. Almost before he realizes it, Guy's struggling for his very life.
One of the things that makes COMPASS work so well on so many levels is its multilayered self-awareness. Guy has just enough understanding of himself to make him the perfect narrator. He's only semi-reliable, as adept at lying to himself as to his audiences. We can’t help but like him, though, because his intentions aren't evil or wicked. He's just a well-intentioned, well-educated, middle-aged white guy. But if there's anything Guy should have learned from the "heroic" tales he peddled, it's that well-intentioned, well-educated, middle-aged white guys tend to do a lot of damage, and it's obvious that author Murray Lee understands that, even while his protagonist is careening naively and catastrophically around the Arctic.
Another thing that makes the novel a delight is the humor. It's seriously, laugh-out-loud funny throughout. We're not talking easy laughs, either, but the genuine "didn't see that coming" juxtapositions that make you bark like a seal.
Which leads me to my favorite thing about the book, which is Murray Lee's writing. It is, in a word, gorgeous. Not in a self-conscious, overly stylistic way that screams "look at me, I'm a fancy writer!" but in a masterful way that uses word choice, rhythm, flow, balance, and grace to convey nuances and subtleties of meaning, and quite often make you stop to savor them. It's vivid, clever, and elegant.
COMPASS is that rara avis, a novel that's beautifully written and page-turningly suspenseful. It's insightful, informative, hilarious, and surprisingly poignant. I cannot recommend it enough.
(Full disclosure: the author very kindly mentions me in the acknowledgements because I was fortunate enough to be able to provide him with some early feedback and support. However, I want to state emphatically that I did very little. The drafts I read of COMPASS years ago were substantially identical to the published version, so though I have a policy of not reviewing the books of authors I've worked with, I don't feel like it's an ethical violation in this case.)
August 12, 2022
I love this book. Just check out that cover! What's inside is just as humorous, surreal and colorful as it is possible to be in a first novel set in an impossible landscape. As a fan of both nonfiction and fiction set in high places and cold places, I was immediately drawn into this heady mix of geography, myth, animal life and human stupidity. Our antihero is a type seen more and more often in public life where a little knowledge is a very dangerous thing.
June 1, 2022
Where to start with this one...
I liked the adventure aspect of the story. It reminded me a little of Jack London, with the cold, isolated setting and a lone man trying to survive. I loved the character of the Inuit guide, Simoenie (Sim) Angalaarjuk. He was intelligent and brought some humor to the story. The main character is "Guy" as in white guy. He is never given an actual name. The locals (and the animals on the ice floe) just call him Guy as a generic name. This makes the isolation even more pronounced for us, the readers. There was a fair amount of the Inuit language throughout the book. There is a glossary, but I struggled with pronunciations. I think an audio version would be useful in this respect. The author also liked to throw in some SAT-level vocabulary words that I had to look up. I guess they were appropriate to the story since "Guy" was an academic for a period of time before undertaking this trip.
Guy is absolutely an unreliable narrator. The epilogue poses many questions that may or may not have been answered during the narrative. Was he mentally unstable before the trip? Did the trip cause his instability? Who knows? This is never satisfactorily answered, but a lot of speculation is given by other characters during the epilogue. (Almost everyone in the epilogue are ONLY in the epilogue. Only one was a character in earlier chapters.)
Overall, I really liked this one. A few scenes were kind of gross . Trigger warning for thoughts of suicide.
Thank you to Publerati for providing me with an ARC. The book is due to be released on September 27, 2022.
I liked the adventure aspect of the story. It reminded me a little of Jack London, with the cold, isolated setting and a lone man trying to survive. I loved the character of the Inuit guide, Simoenie (Sim) Angalaarjuk. He was intelligent and brought some humor to the story. The main character is "Guy" as in white guy. He is never given an actual name. The locals (and the animals on the ice floe) just call him Guy as a generic name. This makes the isolation even more pronounced for us, the readers. There was a fair amount of the Inuit language throughout the book. There is a glossary, but I struggled with pronunciations. I think an audio version would be useful in this respect. The author also liked to throw in some SAT-level vocabulary words that I had to look up. I guess they were appropriate to the story since "Guy" was an academic for a period of time before undertaking this trip.
Guy is absolutely an unreliable narrator. The epilogue poses many questions that may or may not have been answered during the narrative. Was he mentally unstable before the trip? Did the trip cause his instability? Who knows? This is never satisfactorily answered, but a lot of speculation is given by other characters during the epilogue. (Almost everyone in the epilogue are ONLY in the epilogue. Only one was a character in earlier chapters.)
Overall, I really liked this one. A few scenes were kind of gross . Trigger warning for thoughts of suicide.
Thank you to Publerati for providing me with an ARC. The book is due to be released on September 27, 2022.
August 12, 2022
"We can't all be heroes. Some try and succeed. Others posture and pretend. And a few―just a few―set off on their hero's quest only to discover that failure was within them all along."
I have to say, in a sea of white-male-saviors, Compass by Murray Lee is a refreshing divergence. The story is darkly humorous, and I found the various challenges and pitfalls that the main character, well, FELL into very entertaining. I enjoyed the bits of Inuit myth sprinkled in too. The pacing and plot were well done as well, though there were a few times I doubted the direction the story was going in, the author was able to weave a cohesive story that kept me reading even though this isn't a book I would normally pause to read while walking down shelves of books. Don't let the frankly sub-par cover fool you, and to be frank, it almost fooled me. I guess the old saying is true, don't judge a book by it's cover.
I have to say, in a sea of white-male-saviors, Compass by Murray Lee is a refreshing divergence. The story is darkly humorous, and I found the various challenges and pitfalls that the main character, well, FELL into very entertaining. I enjoyed the bits of Inuit myth sprinkled in too. The pacing and plot were well done as well, though there were a few times I doubted the direction the story was going in, the author was able to weave a cohesive story that kept me reading even though this isn't a book I would normally pause to read while walking down shelves of books. Don't let the frankly sub-par cover fool you, and to be frank, it almost fooled me. I guess the old saying is true, don't judge a book by it's cover.
May 22, 2022
We can’t all be heroes. Some try and succeed. Others posture and pretend. And a few—just a few—set off on their hero’s quest only to discover that failure was within them all along.
Guy has made a career out of shilling stories. Under the employ of a pre-eminent international geography magazine, he has traveled the world dressed up like Indiana Jones and recounted the puffed-up exploits of long-dead explorers to auditoriums full of armchair adventurers. “They are good stories,” he tells us. “They are all lies.”
Called out on his dishonesty, Guy makes the impulsive decision to mount an adventure of his own. He flies due north, into a land of rotting ice and endless sun, and sets off by snowmobile for the Arctic floe edge, the mystical place where the ice shelf ends at the open polar sea. Accompanied by Simeonie, his wry and well-liked local guide, Guy knows just enough to draw both men into mortal danger.
When an ice floe breaks free and Simeonie disappears, the narrator ends up alone and adrift in the hostile northern sea. He draws on his knowledge of historic expeditions to craft his own, inept, attempt at survival. As time passes and he becomes increasingly disoriented, his obsession with Sedna, the Inuit goddess of the sea, becomes terrifyingly real.
This book was kind of boring and wasn’t the genre I like so I think that’s why.
Guy has made a career out of shilling stories. Under the employ of a pre-eminent international geography magazine, he has traveled the world dressed up like Indiana Jones and recounted the puffed-up exploits of long-dead explorers to auditoriums full of armchair adventurers. “They are good stories,” he tells us. “They are all lies.”
Called out on his dishonesty, Guy makes the impulsive decision to mount an adventure of his own. He flies due north, into a land of rotting ice and endless sun, and sets off by snowmobile for the Arctic floe edge, the mystical place where the ice shelf ends at the open polar sea. Accompanied by Simeonie, his wry and well-liked local guide, Guy knows just enough to draw both men into mortal danger.
When an ice floe breaks free and Simeonie disappears, the narrator ends up alone and adrift in the hostile northern sea. He draws on his knowledge of historic expeditions to craft his own, inept, attempt at survival. As time passes and he becomes increasingly disoriented, his obsession with Sedna, the Inuit goddess of the sea, becomes terrifyingly real.
This book was kind of boring and wasn’t the genre I like so I think that’s why.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 3, 2022
Won Paperback ARC from BookishFirst.com!
Compass by Murray Lee. What can I say about this book? I accidentally won it. I didn't want it. I left a so-so excerpt review and passed it along. A week later, I got an email saying I'd won! Oh damn. Did not uncheck the box. So I received it and put it aside. I won it in May and it didn't publish until September. Plenty of time to read a book I didn't want to read to begin with.
Fast forward to the end of September and I still had not read the book. I finally buckled down. It was as I suspected. A mediocre, dull book. There were a couple of chuckle moments but all in all, this is not a book for me. General fiction is not a go-to for me. I find it tedious. This book was 330 pages long and each page dragged. I grew to tolerate the insufferable, self-centered main character whose name I don't even remember, a day after finishing the book. I just didn't jive with this "search for meaning," I don't even know what to call it book. Not for me.
Compass by Murray Lee. What can I say about this book? I accidentally won it. I didn't want it. I left a so-so excerpt review and passed it along. A week later, I got an email saying I'd won! Oh damn. Did not uncheck the box. So I received it and put it aside. I won it in May and it didn't publish until September. Plenty of time to read a book I didn't want to read to begin with.
Fast forward to the end of September and I still had not read the book. I finally buckled down. It was as I suspected. A mediocre, dull book. There were a couple of chuckle moments but all in all, this is not a book for me. General fiction is not a go-to for me. I find it tedious. This book was 330 pages long and each page dragged. I grew to tolerate the insufferable, self-centered main character whose name I don't even remember, a day after finishing the book. I just didn't jive with this "search for meaning," I don't even know what to call it book. Not for me.
July 21, 2022
Early in his career he was a marine biologist and turned into a historian storyteller. He would read old notes from deceased adventurers and add his own additional info to make it more interesting. He was a speaker at many different places. When he got called out on not seeing The Edge in the Canadian artic, he decided to go there and see it for himself.
He hires a ranger guide to take him to go see it. The trip is a little rough and they had to go a different way but finally got there. The main part of the story is how he was stranded on a floating berg. With the sun always up, he had a hard time keeping track of how long he was on there. He talked to seals, walruses, and a bear. He thought he was stranded for a few weeks and it turned out to be four days.
It was an interesting read on how he tried to survive and plan but even though it was only four days, he seemed to have gone a little crazy and never got it back.
He hires a ranger guide to take him to go see it. The trip is a little rough and they had to go a different way but finally got there. The main part of the story is how he was stranded on a floating berg. With the sun always up, he had a hard time keeping track of how long he was on there. He talked to seals, walruses, and a bear. He thought he was stranded for a few weeks and it turned out to be four days.
It was an interesting read on how he tried to survive and plan but even though it was only four days, he seemed to have gone a little crazy and never got it back.
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