One of the New Statesman's Best Books of 2022 so far

"A striking, brave and often lyrical book that defies easy interpretation ... Cunningham adroitly sidesteps much of the male-dominated narratives about whales and whaling, and clearly takes inspiration more from Inuit mythology than from Herman Melville. She and her son make for an unconventionally heroic pair ... Whale mothers and their calves, meanwhile, surface and dive alongside the pair, and Cunningham movingly describes their bonds of cooperation, which find pointed echoes and contrasts in her travelling companions and personal relationships. Her sensuous descriptions of grey whales and humpbacks provide some of the book’s richest passages; she looks at the whales and then looks at her son, looking at whales, which look back."
—The Guardian

"Cunningham is consistently forthcoming and self-aware, and she delivers an informed perspective on climate change and ecological damage ... A gorgeous, heartfelt coda brings the narrative to a close, and we can’t deny our own sympathies. An absorbing account that offers urgent warnings for humankind."
—Kirkus