At about ten o’clock Sunday morning, February 11, 1979, Scott Moorman and some buddies left the east coast of Maui in their motorboat Sarah Joe. It was a fine, sunny day for fishing until the wind kicked up just before noon and turned into a hurricane by evening. At five o’clock, the Sarah Joe was reported missing. Searches began yet not a trace of the boat and the men were found. Then, nine-and-a-half years later, the wrecked boat and Moorman’s bones were found on the beach of Taongi, the northernmost and driest atoll of the Marshall Islands 3,750 km from Hawaii.
That atoll is what you see here in a page spread from Judith Schalansky’s Atlas of Remote Islands, which features 50 isolated islands around the globe. The majority are uninhabited, and those that have residents tend to be inhabited for research or military purposes. This is a gorgeous book, first published in German, translated by Christine Lo, and sub-titled Fifty Islands I Have Never Set Foot On and Never Will.
I, too, will never set foot on these remote places. Seeing their dots on the book’s world maps, however, was like suddenly seeing the birds in my backyard, small components of the universe typically overlooked and dismissed because they don’t figure into world news or our own remote islands of self. One wouldn’t vacation on Semisopochnoi, which may very well be the westernmost part of the United States. No one has lived there — ever, Schalansky tells us. While mainstream atlases tend to treat remote islands, such as Semisopochnoi, as “footnotes to the mainland, expendable to an extent,” they are “disproportionately more interesting.” I second that.
In her introduction, Schalansky writes: “It is high time for cartography to take its place among the arts, and for the atlas to be recognized as literature, for it is more than worthy of its original name: theatrum orbis terrarum, the theatre of the world.”
4 thoughts on “So very far from the madding crowd”
I gave this book to a friend for Christmas, secretly wanting it for myself. With your further prompt, I might just go out and get it! The descriptions of the islands are almost like prose poems.
I bought it as a Christmas gift for a friend, also secretly wanting it myself, and then when it arrived, I couldn’t part with it. (!)
I spotted “Atlas” in the store today after reading your post — not the flash of a book that I was expecting. Then I opened the cover and was intrigued enough to bring it home. This evening I was so rapt that I read it in one sitting. It’s a rare treat to be carried INTO AND THROUGH a book by its unique font and design. Truly delicious to have a reading experience full of such TEXTURE. Thank you for bringing this to our attention — another great find via TLC.
Many atlases are filled with colorful detail and illustration, which is what you think you’ll get. These remotes are quite the opposite, yet quite the surprising wonder.
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