Race to
the Polar Sea: The Heroic Adventures of Elisha Kent Kane
Ken McGoogan
Berkeley, CA: Counterpoint, 2009
ISBN: 978-1582434407
This is the fourth of Ken McGoogan’s Arctic
biographies. Like his earlier studies of John Rae and Samuel Hearne, Race to the Polar Sea shows the author portraying his subject in heroic terms. Although his
book on Jane Franklin, Lady Franklin’s Revenge, showed that his biographical range could
extend to subjects about whom he had very mixed feelings (she is something of a
dark presence in the pages of his Rae biography, Fatal Passage), McGoogan is clearly more
at home when able to give full admiration to his subject.
Nothing unusual about that, you might think. But
the emphasis on heroism can become somewhat wearing, and McGoogan’s continual
cross-referencing of phases in Kane’s life to the archetypal stages of the “hero’s
journey”, as laid out by Joseph Campbell in The Hero With a Thousand Faces, turns what
might have been an intriguing aside into a somewhat heavy-handedly prescriptive
exercise. More happily, in Race to the Polar Sea McGoogan abandons the unfortunate experiment
with invented dialogue that marred his Hearne biography, Ancient Mariner.
The main new information in the book comes from
the newly discovered manuscript of part of Kane’s journal from his second
expedition (or at least, it is newly available to researchers, having been
sequestered in a private family archive until recently), which McGoogan is the
first writer on Kane to make use of, and this fact alone should make the book
worth reading for all with an interest in the explorer. The background of
jealously guarded family privacy is an important factor in Kane studies, since
Elisha’s father John Kane was an overbearing paterfamilias obsessed with family
honour—someone who, as a judge with high political connections, was even
willing to jail his own son Thomas for writing a letter critical of his father’s
conciliatory stance on slavery. In light of this, and Elisha’s long agonizing
over what would happen if his parents discovered his liaison with his lover
Maggie Fox, McGoogan seems justified in assuming that the manuscript journals
and correspondence that survive today have been heavily redacted, since no
papers preserved by the family mention Fox, and Elisha’s letters to her survive
only because she published them herself (in an effort to gain some income after
the family had shamelessly reneged on the clear instructions in Elisha’s will
that royalties from his last book should go to her). Yet the author seems to
overlook a simpler explanation for the lack of references to Maggie in the new
manuscript journal: that Kane probably assumed that at some point ill-health
would oblige him to seek his family’s help in working on the manuscript journal
to produce the published version (as they had with his earlier book), and he
had thus decided from the start to avoid all reference to Maggie.
McGoogan does his job with efficiency and verve,
and Kane’s life story is one that any biographer would relish. Raised in the
upper echelons of patrician Philadelphia, his lifelong struggle with rheumatic
fever seemed to spur him to live life to the full, taking risks that a man with
better chances of a long life might have sensibly shied away from. In the
Philippines he climbed down into a volcanic caldera, and during the Mexican–American
War he helped overcome a Mexican unit his detachment had stumbled on, then
prevented its officers from being slaughtered, and treated their wounds. Add in
two Arctic expeditions, and it seems like a life scripted by Hollywood. Perhaps
“scripted” is not far off, since Kane’s fiercely driven ambition to become
famous seems to have led him to seek out such situations precisely so that they
might make exciting copy in the mass media of his own time—newspapers and
magazines, and above all in books (naturally enough written by himself). In an
ironic twist of fate, the financial independence from his family’s sometimes
suffocating grip that his last book would have given him arrived just too late,
as he finally succumbed to his rheumatic fever in Havana. But his stately
progression by train from New Orleans to Philadelphia, mourned by thousands at
every stop, would surely have pleased him.
His family’s grip might have been suffocating, but
it was a suffocation he embraced more often than he rebelled against it. Right
up until his death at the age of 37, and long after he had become a respected
national figure, he lived in thrall to a father whose presumed disapproval of
his relationship with Maggie Fox seemed to infantilize him. His extreme
reluctance to jeopardize his position within the family—always justified
to himself as a reluctance to jeopardize his family’s position within polite
society—is at such stark odds with his reckless spirit of adventure in
every other respect that there is a strong sense of the precocious adolescent
in his personality, even at the end of his life. Despite his taste for
derring-do, a simple adult independence seemed to be lacking, the privileged
upbringing taking away with one hand the taste for adventure and talent for
leadership it had given with the other. McGoogan is perhaps guilty of
rationalizing his subject’s behaviour towards Fox too readily, and too willing
to accept the eminently plausible reasons that Kane himself advanced (Fox’s
humble rural origins, rudimentary education, and spirit-rapping livelihood put
her beyond the pale of Philadelphia’s polite society). David Chapin, in his Exploring Other
Worlds (2004), has a less star-struck view of the relationship, and it is
worth reading him to sense the contrast. Even if Kane had survived longer, the
odds of him acknowledging Fox publicly while his father was still alive do not,
on a sober view, look good.
But Kane the serious scientist and polar explorer
is a subject worthy of anyone’s admiration, most of all for his energy and
exceptional leadership in maintaining by sheer force of personality a semblance
of order among the dysfunctional crew of the Advance, and then leading them to safety
when a third, and probably fatal, winter lay ahead of them. It is a matter of
regret that he gave his unwavering belief, as did so many others, to a
seductive idea that would, much later, prove false—the theory of the Open
Polar Sea, hidden behind an encircling band of ice, on whose shores he imagined
survivors from the Franklin expedition encamping as they awaited rescue. Yet
ironically it was the belief in such a sea that gave impetus to Kane’s and
other expeditions towards the North Pole, while if the truth had been known
from the start—that it would be a 470-mile slog on foot across hummocky,
shifting ice with neither land nor open water in sight—the dispiriting
knowledge might have put anyone off attempting it in the first place. So much
for the title’s “open sea”. What about the “race”? In fact there was no race to
get there except, for a few days, in Kane’s head, when he thought Edward
Inglefield was attempting to sail north into Smith Sound ahead of him (in fact
Inglefield was headed for Lancaster Sound). So there was no race, and no open
sea, but what the title does convey is the breathlessly aspirational trajectory
that Kane mapped out both towards the North and in his life—an aspiration
that finds its enthusiastic chronicler in Ken McGoogan.