The most recommended books about the Inuit

In our fast-paced world of today one has to really trust an author to make a big commitment of time to surrender oneself as a reader to the enormity of a novel such as this of nearly six hundred pages. But it pays to persevere as one is sucked into its narrative as young Danish priest Morten Falck, with a fondness for Rousseau, sets out for Greenland in 1787 to attempt to convert the Inuit to the Danish church.

Vividly translated by Martin Aitken, Leine’s descriptions are brilliant and insightful as Falck undergoes a crisis of faith and draws us into the visceral world of Eternal Fjord. It is a great, original novel with a rich polyphony of memorable places and events and resonating characters. A work that will endure.

Marie Herbert’s book is exceptional as it documents a period of time in the life of an Arctic explorer’s wife. Marie didn’t stay at home when her husband Wally Herbert travelled to the far north of Greenland to live with the Inuit. She went with him. In addition to the incredible insights Marie records about Inuit life in the harsh Arctic during her time on Herbert Island, The Snow People is a very personal book for me. Marie Herbert wrote the acknowledgments for the book in May 1973. I was born in August of the same year, and thirty-seven years later I would stare at the same island from my kitchen window when I lived in Greenland. A truly magical and, for me, prophetic read.

I love poetry but have been extremely allergic to a lot of popular contemporary poetry due to the influence of Rupi Kaur and other Instagram poets. Fournier’s recently published collection, however, reminded me of the poetry I loved and reminded me of how I felt when I picked up Dionne Brand’s Ossuaries over ten years ago and was mesmerized by its meter.

The thematic arrangement of the poems, the parallel translation into Inuk, and the way the book has been textured and shaded make Elements an aesthetic object.

I tracked down a 1973 hardback edition of this book because I fell in love with it. The publication date, the year of my birth, was an added bonus. I borrowed Lowenstein’s translation of material collected by Knud Rasmussen, the famous polar explorer, from the library. As soon as I read the preface, I knew I had to own it. It’s an owning kind of book. Inuit poems are raw like the environment they are birthed in – the words and the people. Some might call the poems simplistic, but having lived in the Arctic, I know that even the simplest things can be challenging, and often life-threatening. The poems in this book capture another world that is so very far removed from our own and yet startlingly vibrant and important. 

This is a great survivalist book about a guy who actually lived with the [then] Eskimos and began a journey of eating that was very different for the time. He also proved that it was possible to eat like them and be his "healthiest" self. It's biographical in nature and written almost 100-years ago so some formatting gaffs must be overlooked. Highly recommend if you're interested in science, theory and historical exploration and insights.

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.  

This book by a distinguished Canadian archaeologist is the finest overview of the human history of the circumpolar region. Its twin concerns are the indigenous peoples of the Arctic and the impact of intruders from the south. It is unusual in its coverage of the Russian and Scandinavian Arctic. The excellent account of the Norse colonies in Greenland feeds into a compelling analysis (through the prism of trade goods) of Norse penetration into the territories of the Dorset and Thule peoples. 

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. 

I first saw this book about an Inuit newborn on a list of LGBTQ-friendly books because it welcomes a baby into the world without focusing on their gender. This is just one of many things I love about this bedtime poem. Kulu is a term of endearment for babies and young children in Inuktitut and the poem introduces Baby Kulu to the arctic summer. The animals and land share gifts such as love, patience, respect for animals, gentleness, and kindness. The beautiful illustrations in soft hues, convey the same gentle tone as the words, and lead the reader to feel embraced, adored, comforted, and ready to dream. The book is available in English, French, and Inuktitut. 

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.