by Emily Butler
Although Knut Fraenkel was several years older than Nils, Freya might be forgiven for mistaking him for the team’s youngest member. He was athletic and lively—as a student, his favorite class had been gymnastics! He had no Arctic experience, but he loved to climb mountains and was also a civil engineer. He kept such good meteorological records that we are able to reconstruct the men’s journey over the ice quite accurately.
Each human had his own reasons for attempting to reach the North Pole by balloon. We can only guess what those reasons were, but they surely included an ambition to set foot on an entirely unknown place, and the yearning for adventure. In other words, the men were not so different from Freya and Zoose!
You might wonder what sort of penguin Freya was, to be small enough to hide away in a basket so successfully. After all, these birds can grow to be four feet tall, as in the case of the mighty emperor penguin! Freya was of a completely different, and much smaller, species; she was a rockhopper penguin, and a short one at that. (If you’ve ever seen a rockhopper penguin, then you know all about their beautiful yellow feathers and orange beaks and bright red eyes.) Here’s another fact about “real” rockhoppers: they live in the Southern Hemisphere! You certainly won’t find many in Denmark, where Freya’s family was from. And would a polar bear really attack a penguin? It’s pretty unlikely, since polar bears live in the Northern Hemisphere!
Putting a penguin and a polar bear on the same ice floe is what we call artistic license. Zoose took artistic license when he made up some words for his poem. He and I both sidestepped a few facts in pursuit of a story (or in Zoose’s case, a limerick). Frankly, helping oneself to a little artistic license is one of the great perks of being an author. When Marguerite nicked her paw on an icicle, that was artistic license! The truth is that arctic foxes, amazingly, have thick fur on the bottom of their feet. They are well protected against snow and ice. (They are also every bit as gorgeous as Marguerite was—no artistic license there.)
Perhaps narwhals are less glamorous than arctic foxes, but they are awe-inspiring creatures. I admit that I didn’t know narwhals actually existed until I was in my twenties. I guess I thought they were as imaginary as the unicorns to whom they’re forever compared. But no—they’re real! Narwhals are wonderfully suited to life in the Arctic Ocean and can dive almost a mile below its icy surface. The tusk of a male narwhal can grow to be ten feet long (I suspect Aarne’s was even longer), and once in a very great while, they sprout two of them.
Unlike narwhals, who do best in the cold Arctic Circle, mice find a way to thrive almost everywhere on earth. They are terrific adapters, and in this sense, Zoose was a true mouse. I have no clue what species of mouse he was, and neither did he. All I know is that I’m glad he found a friend to help him on his journey. At the end of the day, that was probably more important than the right shoes, or coat, or even cheese.
There is another player in this cast of characters: the Arctic itself. This ice-covered region has held an enormous allure for explorers hungry to reach the North Pole. The late nineteenth century was awash in men who regarded the “polar dash” as the premier path to glory, both for themselves and their countries. Unfortunately (and dangerously), Arctic sea ice was an insurmountable problem—ships couldn’t get through it, and sledges couldn’t get across it. That’s why flying over the ice in a balloon seemed like a marvelous solution to Salomon Andrée! Our planet is warmer now than it was in 1897, and much of the sea ice is melting. Many scientists think that by 2040, it will be possible to sail over an ice-free North Pole.
I would be remiss if I failed to mention Lillias Campbell Davidson, a veritable patron saint of ladies who desired adventure at the turn of the century! Freya was not the only female to fall under the spell of her book Hints to Lady Travellers at Home and Abroad. We shall never know how many voyages were undertaken at Davidson’s (very opinionated) urging, nor how many foot warmers purchased, nor how many stern remonstrances given. Small wonder that Freya and Zoose followed her sound advice regarding comfortable cushions! Davidson also wrote an influential guidebook for “lady cyclists” at a time when women were routinely described as physically unfit to mount a bicycle.
Freya & Zoose is both an ode to friendship and a tribute to pioneers of every stripe who yearn for “one true adventure”!
To start at the very beginning, I’d like to thank Don and Ellen Holsinger, who happen to be my parents. They made sure there was a great abundance of books in all the houses we ever lived in, and bankrolled my book-buying sprees in grade school. That early pride of ownership went very deep, and I still feel it!
Thank you, also, to the librarians at Eagle Public Library in Idaho, where I used to take my young children. They placed their staff picks (covers facing outward) on the shelves by the entrance, and I invariably grabbed a few on my way into the building. One of these books was Alec Wilkinson’s The Ice Balloon, which I read fast and furiously. That week I conceived the idea of a small penguin hiding herself in the basket of a hot-air balloon, and thus Freya was born.
I am grateful to my agent, Steven Chudney. He got behind Freya, Zoose, and their accidental friendship in a big way. That meant quite a lot to me, and still does. In the same vein, Phoebe Yeh gave this book the kind of rigorous, intelligent attention that made it better and better and better. I’m deeply indebted to her and her team at Crown.
David, my husband, has a profound love of reading and writing. It would be ridiculous to try to do any of this without his unstinting support and example. Thank you, David.
Finally, to my own children, who were so interested in the adventures of Freya and Zoose, I write books that I think you will cherish. Everyone has reasons for doing what they do; you are mine.
Emily Butler is the eldest of seven children and grew up hiding behind the sofa so that she could read her books in peace and quiet. (It was never quiet.) She finished high school in Brazil, worked on a kibbutz in Israel, practiced law in New York City, catered weddings in London—and was never without a book in her backpack or briefcase. Emily recently moved to Utah with her husband. They live in an old house that is stuffed to the gills with three lovely but disobedient children, and every sort of book.
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