100 books like North of Normal

A true story of myth, madness, and greed, The Golden Spruce is one of those books that has hauntingly stuck with me since I read it. It’s the story of a forestry worker named Grant Hadwin who committed a bizarre act of environmental violence in Haida Gwaii and then mysteriously disappeared under suspicious circumstances. The book traces the life and career of Hadwin in an attempt to explain what possessed him to cut down a 300-year-old mystic golden Sitka Spruce known as Kiid K’iiyas, which has been a sacred part of the Haida People’s oral history for generations. John Vaillant’s description of the psychology of the man and the beauty of the wilderness in which Hadwin spent his life left such an impact on me that when I visited Haida Gwaii I hiked the trail to the now fallen sacred tree.

The gentle pacing of this story is so powerful. As his dying wish, Eldon Starlight, a war vet who has a fractured relationship with his soft-spoken 16-year-old son, Franklin, sends for his boy to take him to the mountains so he can be buried sitting up and facing east, in the Ojibway warrior way. I felt as if I too was moving step by step through the complex emotions as the estranged father and son navigated their way through the Canadian wilderness on the journey to heal past traumas and their relationship. The fact that such subtle writing can be so profound is something I think all readers will appreciate in this Canadian gem.

I randomly found The Break in a bookstore and was drawn in by the cover, which features a light-skinned Indigenous woman wearing a black dress covered in florals. It immediately reminded me of a ceremonial dress that was taken from White Earth long ago and now sits in a museum in Washington DC.

There is grief in the many removals and losses Indigenous people have endured through the years, and real human consequences that echo down the generations. But I feel fuller and wiser when I get to explore this through other’s perspectives.

There are many characters to keep track of in this book, but it is gratifying to get lost in their journeys, gleaning insights and teachings from their stories.

Xatsu’ll chief Bev Sellars spent much of her childhood in a Canadian Indian residential school called St. Joseph’s Mission and in a hospital to treat the tuberculosis she contracted while at the school. This is her first-person account of how the trauma of being taken from her family and community impacted not only her, but every member of her family for three generations. It also discusses her path to healing. The title refers to the fact that in an attempt to strip the children from all sense of their culture and identity, they were referred to by a number rather than their names. I studied the impact of the Canadian Indian Residential School system as part of my social work degree and read many books on the subject but this personal account resonated most profoundly for me.

I liked that this book was specifically aimed at the Canadian market. It shows compassion for children, framing their rights as an important value and their advancement as a valid goal for Canadian society.

I am pleased that, unlike many others, the authors show some agreement with the premise that children should be able to have choices and participate in the decisions that affect their lives. I think this is a perspective that is lacking in many publications on the subject of children’s rights, which often focus more on the protectionist aspect of the issue than on the autonomy aspects.

Maybe, this book seems tangential to put on the list. It’s about the struggle to maintain legal authority over ancestral land in a part of what is today called eastern “Canada”. The scare quotes are there because older nations still live on this land and have not ceded their authority. The book shows how the very same problems Gardiner detailed are actually the result of the colonial order that has shaped our international politics and its capitalist system. The book also suggests a way out through an “ontology of care” for the land.

Ken Dryden is a lawyer, a politician, and a gifted writer. He also happens to be one of the most important goaltenders in Canadian hockey history.

Armed with such lived experience and trained in a variety of disciplines as he has been, Dryden provided hockey with its central and perhaps most enduring literary work. Unlike some of our other choices, The Game is less about larger socio-cultural trends (though there is some of this, especially when he recounts his crucial role in the famous Summit Series against the Soviets in 1972), but rather more about the inner dynamics of a team and what it means to win or lose together in professional sport.

Dryden’s work is, yes, historical, but also highly philosophical; his unique position in goal gave him an ice-level perspective that few enjoy (his iconic stance, gloves atop stick, ever-observing play at the opposite end has already… show more.

We love Euell Gibbons, the man and book that began it all a lifetime ago! Stalking the Wild Asparagus spurred the rise of foraging and ecological awareness in sixties America, and remains relevant today.

The book is folksy, personal, and inspirational but also remains scientifically accurate, and as a born teacher Euell is careful to define the limits of which foods you can gather and safely eat. It’s a miracle it was published, and we should be immensely grateful to David Mackay Co. of New York for going for it back in 1962–and giving themselves a bestseller.

Bill Mason was a legend in the world of paddling. He was old-school: red and black plaid wool shirt, wood-and-canvas canoe, canvas lean-to-style tent. His sojourns in the North Woods inspired me in my own explorations of the Deep South. When he paddled Lake Superior, I thought of Louisiana's Atchafalaya Swamp. When he canoed the Hood River, I thought of Mississippi's Pascagoula.

This book combines in-depth advice on wilderness travel with accounts of some of Bill's own journeys. He was also an artist and filmmaker. His documentary, Waterwalker, is a must-see classic for anyone who loves adventure on the water. 

George Manuel was once asked by a white coworker, “Does Indians have feelings?” Refusing dehumanization, Manuel reveals the ongoing colonial relations between First Nations and the Canadian settler state. He charts his political journey from Secwepemcúl̓ecw to the National Indian Brotherhood to the World Council of Indigenous Peoples.

Manuel argues that the victories of the anti-colonial independence movements of the twentieth century did not end colonial domination of Indigenous Peoples—what he calls the Fourth World. The Fourth World is not a destination but the right to travel on your own road in your own way.

With a new insightful introduction, foreword, and afterword, the book's latest edition shows how Manuel’s analysis of colonialism and vision for solidarity continue to be relevant to contemporary struggles for decolonization.