Friday, January 3, 2014

Sanaaq



The writer and Inuit historian Mitiarjuk Attasie Nappaaluk (1931-2007) lived in the Nunavik, Québec community of Kangiqsujuaq and wrote the first novel published in Inuttitut, the Inuktitut dialect spoken in Nunavik.  Her Sanaaq: An Inuit Novel was first written in syllabics in 1935 but not published until 1984.  It appeared in French in 2002, translated by Bernard Saladin d’Anglure, and it has just now been translated into English by Peter Frost and published by the University of Manitoba Press, released on January 1, 2014.  The novel concerns an Inuit family trying to negotiate the social, technological, and spiritual changes brought into their lives by the coming of the white people.
Nappaaluk was a member of Nunavik's Inuttitut Language Commission and a longtime consultant with the Kativik School Board.  She became a member of the Order of Canada in 2004.  

 Although she incorporated the Blind Man and the Loon tale into her novel, she undoubtedly came by the tale through oral tradition in her Native community.  In my own book I write a lot about semi-literary variants of the tale, in which non-Natives have taken published texts from oral tradition and redacted them to suit their own ideas of how the story should be told, usually for a children’s audience, but Nappaaluk’s work clearly represents a true literary adaptation aimed at adults.

Chapter 24 is titled The Legend of Lumaajuq and contains a warning about getting ill or dying from eating certain old belugas that carry the Lumaajuq, often seen as a dark object in the water behind the beluga.  The dark object resembles an avataq or drag float but is believed to be the blind man’s wicked mother.  This account adds some interesting new details to the story that may well have come out of oral tradition, so that I wonder if this part of the novel or récit really deserves to be classified as “fiction.”  Folktales themselves are too often regarded as fiction, when indeed they are something else entirely.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

The Original Social Network



Wikipedia says “The social network is a theoretical construct useful in the social sciences to study relationships between individuals, groups, organizations, or even entire societies.” It recently occurred to me that the wide distribution of the Blind Man and the Loon story across Greenland and North America represents a late prehistoric and early historic social network,  probably one of the first ever documented.  All of the Native communities where the story is now found are nodes on that network, and interactions between individual storytellers are its strands.  This ancient folk tale and others like it stand as remarkable precursors to Facebook and Twitter, sharing values and beliefs across time and space.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Connecting the Dots



Through more persistent Googling, I came across four more art works, all miniature sculptures, by Canadian Inuits, that should be added to Chapter 5 in the book.
For starters, you can find a miniature brown streaked light grey-stone sculpture by Bob Barnabus of Ikpiarjuk (Arctic Bay), created in 1993-1994, and entitled “Lumak (Scene from the Legend of the Blind Boy and the Loon)” at the following link:

The second and third works are Mattiusi Iyaituk’s “Legend of Lumaaq” (from the late 1980s) and also his “Lumaaq and Her Adopted Whale Baby” (n.d.).  Both are abstract pieces made from stone with wood and/or ivory inserts.  Iyaituk, born in 1950, is a Nunavik Eskimo artist from the community of Ivujivik.  The two pieces may be viewed by clicking on the following links:


The fourth work I just discovered was created by the late Thomassie Kudluk (1910-1989) of Kangirsuk/Payne Bay, on the east coast of Nunavik.  “Lumak” is held by the Art Gallery of Ontario and can be seen at:


Geographics-- I hope sometime soon to update my Map 2 (p. 98) showing where Inuit art inspired by the Blind Man and the Loon story is found, but really, adding these three communities just allows further confirmation of the story’s diasporic expansion into northeastern Canada.  Since oral variants of the Blind Man and the Loon have not yet been collected in these communities, they should be added to the list of other places with “invisible variants” (p. 96).

The Ivujivik and Kangirsuk-Payne Bay sculptures stem from logical connections between other nearby Nunavik peninsula artistic communities and increase its density and popularity there.

Even more interesting is the Barnabus piece.  Barnabus’s village of Ikpiarjuk is located on the northern end of Baffin Island, helps us see a pathway between Iglulik and Anjuittuq-Grise Fiord and thereby plots out the tale’s hypothetical dramatic northward expansion towards Greenland in Map 1 (p. 9).  This all goes back to my perspective in the book that storytelling can be understood as cartography (p. 154).

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Three More Variants Located



More exciting news!  While attending the Dene Languages Conference in Calgary this month, I made a short announcement about my research and book and learned about three more storytellers who actively tell the tale of the Blind Man and the Loon.  One lives in Tetlin, Alaska (where it was recently collected in the Upper Tanana language by linguist Olga Lovick), a second is told in Dene Sųłiné (Chipewyan) in Cold Lake, Alberta, and the third is told by a woman in Dakelh (Carrier) or Sekani in Fort St. James, B.C.  Perhaps these texts or audio recordings will emerge soon, so they may be shared.  The recent Dakelh or Sekani variant shows that the tale has been circulating in the Fort St. James area for at least 121 years!  It was first collected there at Stuart Lake by Father A.G. Morice in 1892.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Chehtsi' (Water Bugs)



May 9, 2013
Kenneth and Caroline Frank say that the name of the water bugs given to the blind man by his wife, chehtsi’, is a common metaphor used for someone who is always slow.  In the BM&L story the wife goes down to the lake to fetch him a cup of water and is gone for a very long time.  Kenneth and Caroline think that the metaphor for someone who is “slow” may have entered the Gwich’in language through this story.  See in the book, Maggie Gilbert’s text, lines 137-155, p. 75 and p. 81.