Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube: Chasing Fear and Finding Home in the Great White North

This book develops three themes in Braverman’s life so far. The first is how she became a dogsledder, first at a folkskol in Norway, then taking tourists on dogsled tours on an Alaskan glacier, and finally in her own right in northern Wisconsin. The second theme is the story of her relationship with a community, and several key people, in Morgenhals, in northern Norway. The third theme is the story of her relationships, which include a number of #MeToo moments along the way.As you can tell from that capsule description, those three themes don’t entirely go well together. Overcoming histories of sexual harassment has been part of her personal growth, giving her confidence as a dogsledder. Though she had to deal with considerable sexism in northern Norway, that issue is discordant in developing relationships with her close friends in the community. Harassment was central to her experience as a high school exchange student in Lillehammer, in southern Norway, where her host father was simply horrible – but that has nothing to do with dogsledding. Braverman was also in an emotionally abusive relationship in Alaska, and I would classify her as having regularly experienced domestic partner rape (she does not attach this word to her relationship, however). That’s connected to sexism in the dogsledding community, but has nothing to do with northern Norway.Braverman doesn’t quite pull it all together. The first half of the book is a great read, and develops the themes effectively. The final quarter or so is also very good, and I would have liked to read more about the successes of her current life. (Find her on Twitter to learn more.) Unfortunately, the late-middle part dragged, as the story got pulled in different directions along the lines of my comments in my previous paragraph.Braverman is a strong writer, who generally shows us rather than telling us. That’s frustrating at times, especially when I wanted her to share her feelings at being the object of unwelcome male “behavior” (and worse). She does slowly reveals herself, but in a reserved, Norwegian way. (She is of Norwegian and non-Norwegian Jewish heritage, FWIW.) Her style makes use of certain colloquial Norwegianisms, effectively and without comment, when she is in Norway.I very much appreciate her story and her voice, and will follow her work, despite some weak points.

I am an avid reader of adventure books and memoirs and I found this one to be a bit of a drab for me. The writing style is good but the content isn't the best.

Braverman is an excellent writer, but reading this book reminded me of the scene in Bergman's The Seventh Seal when the knight rides over to a solitary figure in the distance to ask directions, finding instead that the figure is a corpse hanging in a metal cage. When his companion asks what the man said, he shakes his head. When asked if the man refused to say anything, the knight replies that the man was quite eloquent, but his message was bleak!3/4 through the book, impatient for it to start making sense, I realized that it reminded me quite strongly of Paul Bowles' novel, The Sheltering Sky, another expressive depiction of alienation and existential despair.Braverman, from a privileged background, keeps inserting herself into hypermasculine, "frozen north" type settings where she is mistreated by a series of louts whose bad behavior runs the gamut of offensive jokes, groping, and unwelcome sexual congress. However, at no time does Braverman object or put any limits on their unwanted behavior, which was totally confusing and inexplicable. It was almost as if she was in a fairytale and a cruel editor, or a demonic anthropology advisor had insisted on her offering herself as a sacrifice, and that she would not get her book deal, or complete her master's thesis, unless she was a passive, accepting audience for atavistic, predatory male behavior. Of course, this is ridiculous, she is not imprisoned in a fairy tale, but I found the content deeply unsatisfying, as her attitude and behavior really was never explained. It was clear that objectionable male behavior is a large part of the book's content, but this had no resolution. It would have made sense if at some point Braverman learns to keep herself out of harm's way, and perhaps an analysis of how our culture, or Norwegian culture, or a combination of family factors, etc. lead to her need for male attention and affirmation, her inability to discriminate between safe people, and dangerous people, and her concurrent powerlessness over her own body.

After learning on Twitter that Braverman is a professional dog-sledder, I thought this was going to be about how she got into that, and her adventures learning and doing that.While a good deal of the book is indeed about that, the bulk of the book is somewhat of a coming-of-age story about her trips to Norway -- both to Lillehammer as an exchange student, and to small-town far north rural Norway in the Arctic circle. In all of these varying experiences, she grows in awareness and in relationship with certain unlikely characters. I think the highlights of the book are (1) the thrills of dog-sledding and (2) her growing trusted friendship with a small-town shop owner. As these two experiences occur in different locales, the book switches back and forth between them, while also detailing her personal relationship(s) back home in the U.S.Braverman was blessed to be able to pick up the Norwegian language and to speak it with accentless fluency from her teens onward. Life out on the remotest fjords of far-north arctic-circle Norway is quirky and somewhat backward, if not chauvinistic, but she soon fits right in and becomes part of the rural small-town scene. We are thus treated to a you-are-there viewpoint on these odd lives and stories, and on her life there both as an insider and an outsider. Although the narrative is occasionally repetitive, with the same characters sometimes running in the same grooves (as rural small-towners are often wont to do), by the end of the book the reader is greatly rewarded with a substantial emotional payoff for sticking with the story of this outlandish and unusual place. Do check it out ... and if it veers into unexpected territory, stick with it -- it's worth it.

First off, let me say I don't read a lot of non-fiction, as I tend to gravitate more to the genre fictions of the world. However, as a feminist and a Norwegian, the theme of this book intrigued me and I wanted to more about Blair's journey. This book was eye-opening for me in many ways. Overt sexism and sexual violence has not been commonplace in my own experience of my home country. Norway is a country that likes to boast of its commitment to equality among the sexes and for a long time I was convinced I was from one of those countries that had its s**t together. That Norway was a country that could walk the walk and talk the talk. I was completely wrong. The sexism and violence Blair experiences isn't loud and in your face, but subtle and hidden. Which makes it so hard to catch and to openly criticise. It's of the kind that make people look at the women who experience it and tell them to "let it go" because it's not "that bad". Blair speaks about the kind of sexism that persist in most "developed" countries today and it's such an important conversation. I truly applaud her for putting it into words.Her description of northern Norwegian life, their mannerisms and linguistic peculiarities are spot on. I loved her occasional Norwegian words cropping up here and there. It added a real layer of authenticity that I really appreciated.I thought the pacing started wonderfully, jumping back and forth from her growing up and moving to Norway during high school, her year at the Norwegian folk school and moving to Alaska to be a dog sledder and the "present" day of staying in Malangen. However, as we kept getting closer and closer to the present day I found myself getting bored of life in Malangen. It got a bit same-y towards the end.Nonetheless, this is a beautifully written and important book, and I highly recommend it.

I have to confess I rarely pick up non-fiction these days, but I made an exception for this book because I've heard such good things. I'm so glad that I did! Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube brims with courage, friendship, and some of the most beautiful writing I've ever come across. Braverman so deftly turns her own fears and weaknesses out for the reader, exploring where they've come from and how she's tackled them, and this combined with her triumphs and the relationships she forges paint an exquisite picture of her time in Norway, Alaska and the US. Frankly I can't wait for another book from Blair - I will have that one on preorder before I can blink!

I loved this book! To be honest, I bought it because I love Blair's very puppy-focused twitter feed, and already knew she was a great story teller from that. However, this book was not what I expected - in a good way! I was expecting tales about dogs and mushing, and there were some lovely bits about that, but what I most enjoyed about this book was Blair's moving and honest account of what it's like to exist in a cis-female body in a man's world. She talks about violence, bravery, sex and sport in relation to embodiment in a way I had never thought about before.Buy this book. It will make you better, braver, Blair-er.

Loved this book, very much worth a read. Honest and brave and ultimately uplifting. So glad I finally read it.

Love this book so so much