69 Books Like The Fat of the Land

I appreciate the genuine Inuit voice of this story of creation, so I researched the author.

Rumolt is active in the Inuit community and teaches elementary school there, but her education was started by her grandmother’s traditional tales. The book is in spare text in the tradition of the storyteller. The art is primarily black and white with touches of color, all the more welcome as a surprise.

In the end the story is about compromise and friendship and a beautiful introduction to a unit or theme of creation, seasons, or mythology. 

Inuit leader Sheila Watt-Cloutier speaks with such authenticity as she calls for environmental justice that one can’t help but be moved. I found her story of growing up on the land in northern Quebec (Nunavik), raised by strong women, finding her voice, and becoming president of the Inuit Circumpolar Council (ICC) and later chair of the International Council deeply inspirational.

In those capacities, she focused on addressing both persistent organic pollutants (POPs) that become concentrated in the Arctic and global warming that threatens Inuit lives and lifeways by melting the ice. I also admire her use of her leadership role to call upon her people to reclaim their lives and destinies by drawing upon their traditional values to address the social problems that are threatening individual and community health.

This book is a history of American polar expeditions and their relationship with the Inuit who helped them survive the Arctic.

It is vividly written and balances both outsider and insider views of the Arctic, showing how different they can be, in an incredibly authentic way. It’s a sad book that stays with you for a long time.

What struck me most was the use of simple language to portray powerful intimacy and connection between human and animal, and by extension, environment. Murphy’s humorous dialogue, together with sparing, often ironic, descriptions, struck deep into my heart. The play starts in 1535 on an ice shelf up north—when an Inuk widow risks her life to save a lost one-eared polar bear cub on an ice floe, and adopts him. In the last scene five hundred years later in the oily waters of the Northwest Passage, the same bear—starving and cruelly injured by eco-tourists on a cruise ship—struggles to keep from drowning. No one on the ship cares. No one weeps for him. But I did. I wept for him and for his world destroyed by apathy. 

This is an unusual crime story set in Copenhagen, Denmark. It caused a sensation when it was published in 1992. The main character Smilla Jaspersen is a half Inuit scientist from Greenland, lonely and homesick in the big city. The death of an Inuit boy pulls her into a complex web of crime exposing Denmark’s complicated relationship with its protectorate Greenland. The title refers to the Inuit people’s understanding of their wintry habitat, and is a reminder of the threat to traditional lifestyles of many indigenous people. A thriller, but so much more. 

Unlike so many books that address the topic of abandonment, the messages of this audiobook grabbed my heart and pulled my mind along for the ride. I personally found that listening to the author’s incredibly powerful stories and metaphors led me to be highly engaged in her follow-up explanations of the underlying dynamics. She elucidated how they illustrated the difficulties of people who feel a chronic sense of being alone and abandoned and who yearn for mothering.

Based on sharing this book with my patients, I suggest that if you want to listen to it, you will benefit from doing this at a time when you are ready to delve into your personal journey. Also, be sure to give yourself the time to absorb and process its messages.

Perseverance, and an unwitting courage against all odds; that’s the essence of Farley Mowat’s People of the Deer.

Mowat’s book immortalizes a small band of Inuit as they traverse the barrens of Canada’s eastern Arctic, enduring starvation, punishing winter conditions, and a sociopolitical system bent on eradicating their five-thousand-year-old culture. This book shattered my perception about how I see myself as a Canadian, and injustices inflicted on indigenous peoples.

Written over seventy years ago, People of the Deer is testament to Mowat’s insight into a travesty that continues to this today, and tells me we still have a long way to go. 

I wrote my own book inspired by this charming little encyclopedia of emotions.

Smith has collected 156 emotion words in English and other languages, along with delightful discussions of them. Stuff like David Foster Wallace’s ambiguphobia: “feeling uncomfortable about leaving things open to interpretation,” and l’appel du vide, French for “the call of the void,” that unnerving impulse to leap when perched on a high steep cliff. I love the Inuit word, iktsuarpok: the fidgety and restless feeling we get right before guests arrive.

Smith thinks that instead of trying to come up with a reductive list of basic and universal emotions, we should be looking for more–more words in more languages to get at the textures of what we can feel.

First published in 1991, this book draws on Inuit oral history to challenge the “standard reconstruction” of how the Franklin expedition played out, presenting a more complex narrative. A master mariner, Woodman not only repeatedly searched King William Island for relics and bones but was the first to do an in-depth analysis of the unpublished Inuit testimony gathered by Charles Francis Hall with the help of Tookoolito. 

Woodman deduced that after the abandonment, some of Franklin’s men returned to the ice-locked vessels. Intensely focused and detailed, this book speaks to aspiring experts–and, for me, drew attention to the need for a broad, accessible survey of Arctic exploration highlighting the Indigenous contribution.  

Inuit and Danish in heritage, Knud Rasmussen is one of the major stars of Arctic research. He led one of the most famous explorations of northern Canada, The Fifth Thule Expedition, and documented the lives and culture of the people who lived there.

This modern biography doesn’t have the drama and excitement of firsthand accounts, but it’s comprehensive and well-written. It has many interesting details of the lives of both Rasmussen and Peter Freuchen. Additionally, it gives readers a look at the larger context of politics and exploration in the first half of the 20th century.