For the first 9 years of her life, Judith Schalansky grew up behind the Iron Curtain, in East Germany. "East Germans," she writes, "could not travel, only the Olympic team were allowed beyond our borders." Nonetheless, after watching a documentary about the Galapagos Islands at the age of 8, she would spend hours with her head buried in an atlas, voyaging around the world in her imagination. A year later, her country disappeared from the map altogether, when the Berlin Wall fell and Germany was re-unified.
Schalanksy's second book, Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I Have Not Visited and Never Will, was just published in English translation. In it, she illustrates and annotates 50 of the world's most remote islands, moving ocean by ocean from the Arctic to the Antarctic. Her introduction describes the attraction of these isolated places:
Many islands lie so far from their mother countries that they no longer fit on the maps of that country. [...] Every connection to the mainland has been lost. There is no mention of the rest of the world.
Of course, she notes, an island is not necessarily remote if it is your home. The people of Easter Island, which is more than 2000 miles from the nearest continent, call their homeland Te Pito Te Henua, which translates as "the navel of the world."
But for explorers, naturalists, pirates, and dreamers, islands exert an irresistable fascination, as Schalansky's miniature histories demonstrate:
In the nineteenth century, seven clans lived in micro-communist harmony under the patriarchal rule of the Scot William Glass on the island of Tristan da Cunha in the South Atlantic. Dr. Ritter, a Berlin dentist tired of civilization and the global economic crisis, set up a retreat on the island of Floreana in the Galapagos in 1929, where he aimed to renounce all that was superfluous, including clothing.
A remote island's very insignificance makes it all the more potent as myth. "The absurdity of reality is lost on the large land masses," writes Schalansky, but "an island offers a stage: everything that happens on it is practically forced to turn into a story."
When it first came out, in German, in 2009, The Atlas of Remote Islands won the German Arts Foundation Prize for the most beautiful book of the year. It is not hard to see why. Each island is shown at the same scale but on its own page, delicately etched onto a blue-gray sea. Next to it lies a short paragraph, which blurs the line between encyclopedic and poetic, recounting geographic fact, origin fables, and excerpts from sailors' diaries in the same breath.
Most of us will never visit these islands, Schalansky seems to be saying, and yet we also already have. The islands of our imagination are more powerful than their reality could ever be.
This slideshow excerpts a mere 10 of Schalansky's 50 islands—if you still need to buy a last-minute stocking stuffer for someone who loves maps, mysteries, and gorgeous design, I can't recommend the book too highly.
Say goodbye or make amends.Image via Canva - Photo by Inna Postnikova
Friends recording on a camcorder.Image via Canva - Photo by capturenow
This is an AI-generated image using the language "A beautiful woman with long eyelashes and red lips surrounded by swirls of colorful makeup." AI/Canva/Elyssa Goodman 
Wiman hiding her face behind a bunch of cashCanva
A mansion and its reflection in the swimming poolCanva
Salzburg at nightCanva
Fancy homeCanva
Happy volunteersCanva
Parents of young children get more time with them if they work from home.Photo credit: Canva
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.