Book review: "Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube"

It takes some audacity to write an autobiography at the age of 27, as Blair Braverman did with her 2016 book "Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube." 

You're saying to the reading world: In my short life, I have gathered so many unique experiences that you should stop what you're doing and listen to me.

So should we? 

Yes, up to a point. 

"Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube" is a coming-of-age story. Braverman, though raised in California, spent much of her late teens and early 20s in Norway and Alaska, reveling in the cold, snow and stark beauty. She freely shares her doubts, anxieties and insecurities. 

Chapter three — the best part of the book — is a fun, insightful and entertaining description of Braverman's time learning to pilot dogsleds in northern Norway. Definitely worth a read.

Also good is Braverman's tale of working as a dogsled guide at an Alaskan tourist stop. Not only does she have a good story about a large party of tourists being stranded on the glacier for a night, she spices things up with an sometimes-boyfriend who is controlling to a disturbing extent. She doesn't hold back details, even when it comes to sex. 

Braverman is a good writer capable of painting evocative pictures, as in one dogsledding scene; "I ventured back outside into the pink twilit hours of midday to find the dogs all howling at once, a sonorous and overwhelming howl that rose as a single voice. In the distance slid the black dot of a snowmobile, above the horizon shone the dim sparks of miltary rocket tests."

Still, if ever there was a book that deserved a mixed review, it's this one. For all the golden prose and the great dogsledding stories, there are also parts that make you go, "What was the point of that?"

She devotes two lengthy sections to gatherings of young people — one time on a fishing boat, another around campfire. Some of the youths are drunk, some boisterous, some shy, and there's a lot of half-flirting and weak jokes. It is all aimless, pointless and dull. 

Other parts of the book have enough to hook you, but overstay their welcome. Her time as exchange student focuses on the creepy father of the household. You can sympathize with Braverman's angst, but the story goes too long.

The book's main thread is about Braverman's time in a small Norwegian town helping the aging shopkeeper. Not a whole lot happens — there are a lot of scenes with older Norwegians idly chatting — but you do see a tender bond grow between Braverman and the shopkeeper. 

All in all, Braverman might have been better off taking the best stories from this book and writing two or three magazine stories. There's not enough here for a whole book.