Little Moar and the Moon

Written by Roselynn Akulukjuk

Illustrated by Jazmine Gubbe

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-299-4

28 pp.

Ages 4-7

October 2021

 

Unless you've lived in a far northern community, you can't imagine the impact of day length on daily activities, especially around the summer and winter equinoxes.  But for little Moar, the fall is particularly concerning with the earlier onset of the night after a summer of full days.

Like most kids after school, little Moar and his friends like to play. But little Moar is always wary of being out too late, cognizant of the ever-darkening sky. You see, while many children are afraid of the dark, little Moar is afraid of the moon.

Whenever he looked at the moon, he saw a face. The face looked like it was giving him a half-smile, and that scared him.

From Little Moar and the Moon by Roselynn Akulukjuk, illus. by Jazmine Gubbe

So with the sky getting a little darker, he says goodbye to his friends and heads home. But another group of friends invite him to play a game of tag and he decides he can sneak in a game before it's too late. However, having so much fun, he loses track of time and, seeing the sky even darker, decides he must head home right then.

From Little Moar and the Moon by Roselynn Akulukjuk, illus. by Jazmine Gubbe

But on the way home, he encounters his cousin feeding his uncle's ten sled dogs. When he asks for little Moar's help, the boy relents, wanting to be helpful. Still the darkness comes as it does and little Moar runs into his uncle's house for shelter. How will the little boy make it home safely if the moon is always watching him?

From Little Moar and the Moon by Roselynn Akulukjuk, illus. by Jazmine Gubbe

Roselynn Akulukjuk, who gave young readers The Owl and the Lemming (2016), again takes us into Nunavut, not for a legend but instead for a quintessential experience for children: dealing with the impact of day length. Many kids love to play outside after school and most don't stay outside so long that they have to worry about the impending darkness. But when the darkness comes early as it does in the far north, making it home before the sun has set is crucial, especially for young who might be fearful of the darkness. Still little Moar isn't afraid of the darkness as much as he's apprehensive about the moon and the face his imagination perceives in its contours. Many cultures have lore associated with the pareidolic image of a face in the moon so little Moar's fear of this entity is not atypical. Many see a pair of eyes and a mouth in that natural satellite. Thankfully Moar's mother can reassure him that what he's seeing are contours and shadows but will he believe her?

Darkness can be frightening but Jazmine Gubbe, an illustrator, concept artist and animator, gives a warmth to that twilight and dusk, using the softness of pinks, greens and purples to transition to rich darker blues of the night. Her colours evoke place and time, bringing us to a Nunavut community in the fall, cool in temperature and vibrant in its activity of play and people. 

Fears are fears, whether in the short days of Nunavut or an urban setting in southern Canada. But for little Moar, his fear is based in his natural environment, not created from frightening graphics on visual media or elsewhere. His fear may not dissipate immediately with the wise words of his mother–fears are unfailingly stubborn–but knowing that he could outplay the moon with some careful maneuvers will surely go a long way to putting that moon in its place, far, far away from Moar.

The Owl and the Lemming

by Roselynn Akulukjuk

Illustrated by Amanda Sandland

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-120-1

32 pp.

Ages 5-7

November 2016

Like Aesop’s Fables, The Owl and the Lemming is a tale with a moral but it is more than just a morality story. Through the words of Nunavut-born filmmaker Roselynn Akulukjuk and illustrator Amanda Sandland, this fable is an Inuit legend with a lesson based on a local predator-prey relationship amidst that Arctic ambience of mossy and rocky tundra.  The Owl and the Lemming is as elegant in its story-telling and art as it is wise in its teaching.

A young lemming makes her way out of the den in the spring to partake in some much-needed feeding on tasty moss.  So engrossed in her eating, she fails to notice a snowy owl land directly in front of the entrance to the lemming’s den.   The young lemming tries to trick the snowy owl with some juvenile ploys based on distraction but, though young, the owl is wise to her intentions. Finally the lemming invites the owl to play a jumping game with the lemming’s fate as a meal the prize.  The owl is only too happy to show his prowess at jumping, sadly for him allowing the lemming to scurry back into her den.  Though his father cautions him, “Next time, don’t play with your food” (pg. 25), the little owl knows it was his pride that cost him his meal.

That old adage of pride going before a fall is ever so true in this Inuit tale, told with humour by Roselynn Akulukjuk who directed a puppet-based film of the story for Taqqut Productions, just winning Best Animation at the 41st annual American Indian Film Institute Festival.  It’s an auspicious recognition of the talent of Roselynn Akulukjuk to tell such a legend with both clarity and richness, staying true to her Nunavut roots while extending herself into her new pathways for story-telling.  Similarly, Amanda Sandland uses her artwork to combine the whimsical with the realistic, creating composite images of drawings with photographic backgrounds.  With only a few touches of comic design, like the den’s doorway and fencing, added to the true tundra landscape, Amanda Sandland puts all her efforts in creating a lemming and an owl worthy of the legend’s title.

From The Owl and the Lemming 

by Roselynn Akulukjuk, 

illus. by Amanda Sandland

Readers should look for the release of Taqqut Productions’s film of this story, but indulge in this literary version from Inhabit Media for teaching and learning an important moral about pride and survival from a very northern perspective.