The book under review lies at the intersection of three rapidly burgeoning research fields: environmental history (including climate history), Cold War history, and history of the polar regions. Environmental history of the Cold War is a relatively new field of research opened about a decade ago by the workshop and publication of German Historical Institute in Washington DC (Environmental Histories of the Cold War, Ed. J.R. McNeill, Corinna R. Unger, 2010). Major changes in Cold War studies preceded this sudden jolt of interest as the field turned from studying the history of international relations with a focus on the two superpowers to analyzing the global nature of the conflict (Odd Arne Westad, The Global Cold War, 2005). Polar history follows this trajectory: from a history of national heroism to a transnational, environmentally-driven history (Journal of Historical Geography, 2014, 44). All these tendencies are perfectly visible in this reviewed work that unites the narratives on Cold War science, politics, and culture of the cold regions, including but not limited to the circumpolar Arctic and Antarctic. The unique feature of this volume is that it goes beyond the polar regions and includes studies of the glaciers of Switzerland (Dania Achermann), management of avalanches in connection with the development of winter sport in Soviet Kazakhstan (Marc Elie), and even the Soviet passion for searching for the abominable snowman in the mountains of Pamir (Carolin F. Roeder and Gregory Afinogenov). Extreme environment, especially ice and snow, tie these stories to each other.

What kind of narratives can be told about ice and snow? There is no doubt that both substances were very important objects of study during the Cold War, especially militarily, as Janet Martin-Nielsen and Ingo Heidbrink point out. Learning where on the ice one could land heavy planes with nuclear bombs and where in the snowy landscape one could build a military station were crucial for Arctic expansion, which substantially relied upon technological control. Sebastian Vincent Grevsmühl, in his analysis of how the “natural laboratory” metaphor was employed in the Antarctic concluded that knowing how to survive there meant knowing how to survive in any geography of the Cold War, including military ones (226). This direction of research is continued by Pascal Schillings, who focuses on bodily practices in the Antarctic expedition and “exploration of the self.”

The novelty of the book, however, is that of its extension beyond the knowledge-centered narratives: in the introduction, the editors explain that they see ice and snow “not merely as natural but as social categories that are intrinsically linked to human society, history and politics” (4). Many authors of the various chapters continue that vision and focus on how “ice and snow were talked about and dealt with” (309). A strong feature of this collection is its detailed research, which serves as the basis for the narratives: several chapters use a microhistorical (as well as a micro-geographical) approach and tell us about largely unknown places, such as remote Inuit settlements near former military bases in Greenland (Sofie Elixhauser), or the Bouvet Island in the Southern Ocean where Norwegian and South African interests met (Peder Roberts and Lize-Marie van der Watt).

Quite obviously, an edited collection cannot be profound by its very nature. First, the book is almost fully terrestrial: sea ice, so essential for the overall condition of the Arctic, is only emphasized in the introductory chapter by Sverker Sorlin but is not central to any of the other chapters. Second, the cases examined are quite uneven in terms of what places and periods they are covering. The editors themselves emphasize that further studies are needed on the Cold War polar activities of such countries as India and China, as well as many European nations (5). I agree with this statement, and for this review, I focus on the chapters that cover the Soviet Union.

It is impossible to build a Cold War narrative without mentioning the Soviet Union, however. In too many studies it remains part of the context only. This book is very different: Soviet interests and actors appear in most of the chapters and three chapters out of eleven are fully devoted to Soviet cases. It is important to emphasize the role that both superpowers played in the creation of a global commons that included the high Arctic, the Antarctic, the oceans, and outer space. As shown by Roger D. Launius, a process of depoliticization of natural areas beyond national jurisdictions existed, and this became one of the main legacies of the Cold War that shaped future politics in the polar regions.

It is frustrating that there are no Soviet cases in the section devoted to sites of knowledge, despite the serious nature of Soviet academic studies in snow and ice (especially sea ice). Scientific institutes appear in other chapters in a less common cultural context. How could it be that the headquarters of Soviet science—the Academy of Sciences—led a program in search of the indomitable snowman? Was it a specificity of mountainous snowscapes or the international fame of the indomitable snowman affair that pushed Soviet academics in this pseudoscientific direction? Carolin Roeder and Gregory Afinogenov, exploring this set of questions, describe a snowman as “a Cold War creature,” a cultural phenomenon nurtured by the Cold War context. Local scientific institutions are central to Marc Elie's story on avalanches, including a brilliant analysis of the decision-making process of urban planning and environmental protection that went on quite independently from Moscow. Another regional story with broad significance is devoted to the military-industrial town Molotovsk-Severodvisnk, located several hundred kilometers south from the polar circle but for social-economical reasons included by the Soviet government in the area of the “Far North,” which gave its citizens special bonuses. Ekaterina Emaliantseva Koller names the process of negotiations between different local actors about status and hierarchies in the community “negotiation of coldness,” showing how the climate exceptionalism of the town established in the 1930s became in-demand through Cold War defense discourse.

Hopefully, this innovative book will invigorate other researchers, including those who study Russian and east European history to further develop a genre of “cryo-history” that is so relevant in today's world of accelerated Arctic melting.