The Origin of Day and Night

Written by Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt

Illustrated by Lenny Lishchenko

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-180-5

36 pp.

Ages 4-8

September 2018

In these days of daylight savings, the story of The Origin of Day and Night feels all the more relevant. For those of us in southern Ontario, complaining about how early it gets dark seems like an annual event–though, of course, this would be accentuated in the north–but what of animals who prefer only daylight or only nighttime for their activities?

At the very beginning of time, there was no light on earth. Darkness surrounded everything. Only nocturnal animals, those who could see in the dark, could easily hunt for food. (pg. 2)

From The Origin of Day and Night by Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt, illus. by Lenny Lishchenko

Tiri, the Arctic fox, was one of those nocturnal creatures, hunting those and from those that slept. When Tiri celebrated the darkness by calling out, "Taaq, taaq, taaq! Darkness, darkness, darkness!" the darkness remained because things that were spoken aloud could become real.

From The Origin of Day and Night by Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt, illus. by Lenny Lishchenko

But Ukaliq, the Arctic hare, who could not see in the dark, wondered what would happen if she called out, "Ubluq, ubluq, ubluq! Day, day, day!" And there was light in the world.  Tiri was not pleased. In a dance of light and day, the two animals call forth their preferred illumination so they might hunt or nap, finally agreeing on giving each other sufficient time to find food before the other changed the light in the sky.

And so, Tiri and Ukaliq used the power of their words to bring the sun up into the sky and then to make it set. Taaq brought darkness and ubluq brought day. (pg. 28)

Nunavut author Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt continues to share her Inuit history and culture through her storytelling just as she did in The Legend of Lightning and Thunder (Inhabit Media, 2013) which was shortlisted for the Canadian Library Association's Book of the Year for Children. Likewise, she wraps the origin story in The Origin of Day and Night in a mesmerizing story of conflict and resolution between Arctic animals.  But, by bringing to light the natural history of the Arctic, specifically the feeding and behaviour of the Arctic fox and Arctic hare, as well as the activities of the humans who hunt and store their meat to keep it safe from those such as the fox, Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt encourages learning of different cultures and environments, honouring the traditional Inuit belief embedded in The Origin of Day and Night beyond the tale itself.

Because of the nature of the story, Lenny Lishchenko's illustrations are far different from those in Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt's first picture book. Ukrainian-born Toronto artist Lenny Lishchenko plays up the dark vs. light conflict and balance with powerful images, always focusing on the animals and their need for light or dark. By juxtaposing the two, at play as the animals call forth the sky light they require, her illustrations are playful yet resolute and always revealing of their Arctic home.

From The Origin of Day and Night by Paula Ikuutaq Rumbolt, illus. by Lenny Lishchenko

A simple story told with mighty text and illustrations, The Origin of Day and Night enlightens about beginnings, people and place.

Sukaq and the Raven

by Roy Goose and Kerry McCluskey

Artwork by Soyeon Kim

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-139-3

36 pp.

Ages 5-7

October 2017

Little Sukaq who lives in Apex, Nunavut is sweet and fast and loves hearing stories from his anaana as he drifts off to sleep.  His favourite story is an Inuit tale of the raven creating the universe.

From Sukaq and the Raven 

by Roy Goose and Kerry McCluskey 

illus. by Soyeon Kim

In the best of storytelling traditions, his anaana (mother) tells him that she'd "heard from a friend of mine, who heard it from his grandmother, who also heard it from someone else. This story is very, very old." (pg. 7)  As she tells him of the biggest raven that ever existed, Sukaq closes his eyes and imagines himself on the back of the raven, flying through the night sky.  As the raven glides through the cold sky, snow gathering on his wings, he flings a giant snowball off and creates a place upon which he can rest. And so Earth is made.

From Sukaq and the Raven 

by Roy Goose and Kerry McCluskey

 illus. by Soyeon Kim

Then the raven, seeking light, pecks at the ground whereupon a plant begins to grow. From this plant, the raven grabs something bright and tosses it into the air for warmth and light.  When that sun sets, the raven wants light in the dark so he pecks at the ground again and from a new emerging plant derives a shiny object which, when flung into the sky, becomes the moon.

Finally, the raven seeks a partner. Pecking at the ground one last time, he reveals a new plant emerging with a woman inside. But before he can be a true partner, he must transform from raven to man in blue parka, expertly depicted by artist Soyeon Kim.

Inuit storyteller Roy Goose shared this story with writer Kerry McCluskey when she researched her first book Tulugaq: An Oral History of Ravens (Inhabit Media, 2013) and now the story has new wings to share with others beyond the Arctic. By telling an origin story with a little boy dreaming of accompanying the giant raven as it creates the universe brings the story from legend to something more personal and even bigger.  But it's Soyeon Kim's dioramic illustrations that propel Sukaq and the Raven into even greater depths of storytelling.  Though the art may appear to be collages, Soyeon Kim actually crafts three-dimensional dioramas of scenes for the picture books she illustrates.  You can appreciate the true complexity of her dioramas on her website www.kimsoyeonart.com.  From Sukaq's home landscape of northern lights, colourful houses and flying ravens to the cold of a dark sky and the emerging plants that bring forth elements of the universe, Soyeon Kim breathes life into the story, taking it from just text to a full-bodied story as might have been heard from Roy Goose himself.

From Sukaq and the Raven 

by Roy Goose and Kerry McCluskey 

illus. by Soyeon Kim

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.

Painted Skies

by Carolyn Mallory

Illustrated by Amei Zhao

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-004-4

36 pp.

Ages 5-7

June 2015

In different parts of our country right now, Canadians are enduring record high temperatures and repressive fires, but Painted Skies will easily transport them to the cold of an Arctic October during which a new girl, Leslie, learns first-hand the wonder of the northern lights from her Inuit friend, Oolipika.

When the two girls go out to play in the evening snow, they bear witness to the wonder of colours dancing across the sky.  Oolipika teaches Leslie of the Inuit legend in which the lights are anirniit or spirits of those who've passed and now play a running game, chasing a ball of a walrus skull.  Moreover, Oolipika instructs Leslie how to safely keep the spirits away with noisy finger play.

Immersing her characters in the true Arctic experience, making their actions analogous to those of the caribou, ptarmigan, raven and snowy owl, Carolyn Mallory similarly embeds the reader in the cold and clear night of a snow-packed landscape and the consuming quiet of a northern evening.  Her text may recount how a seasoned Arctic resident shares the marvel of her world with a newcomer, including the telling of an Inuit tale, but her descriptions of the dancing lights bring the curiosity of the skyscape to life.

Sometimes green, sometimes red,
the night sky dances.
Stars peek through satin pink with
a wink and a flicker.
A wisp of yellow gauze
as the sky
breathes with light
Splashes of purple and silver-grey,
a sail, a sheet, a streak–
with one great gust, gone. (pg. 31)

I don't know much about artist Amei Zhao except that she works in visual development and production design for animation but Painted Skies demonstrates to me that she has a future in emotive illustration.  While the northern lights are a visually evocative inspiration no matter what the medium, Ameo Zhao finds it within herself to enrich that brilliance and meld it with the innocence of the girls and complement Carolyn Mallory's text so splendidly.  Painted Skies not only finds a way to demonstrate the richness of the northern lights but also convey the Inuit tale of its origins while tagging it all with an addendum about the science behind them.  It is a story worthy of ancient storytellers of the north and proudly of Inhabit Media.