Burying the Moon

Written by Andrée Poulin

Illustrated by Sonali Zohra

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-604-2

112 pp.

Ages 9-12

October 2021

Every night

in the field 

     of Shame

Latika has only

     one thought

     one wish:

     to bury the moon. (pg. 14)

That's because Latika and the girls and women of her Indian village always head to the field on the outskirts to crouch and do their business in the night as there are no toilet facilities available to them. They are silent, they are ashamed and they are fearful. And Latika resents that moon shining down on them and revealing them in the shame of their bodily functions.

From Burying the Moon by Andrée Poulin, illus. by Sonali Zohra

At home, Latika's grandmother is bedridden, her Aunt Nita sobs for the loss of her young son, and her older sister Ranjini, once the brightest student at school, rages at everything now that she has turned twelve and been forced, as a young woman, to stop attending school.

When a very-important-government-official, Mister Samir, comes to Padaram to see how the government could help the village, Latika is desperate to ask about "you know what" but she is dissuaded by her mother.

It's so hard

to stay silent

when you have

important things

          to say.

Important things

  that everyone

      stays silent

          about. (pg. 41)

When Mister Samir brings an engineer to the village to install a well, Latika tries to speak with Mister Samir, whose smiling eyes encourage her. But when the sarpanch–village leader–and Mister Samir have a disagreement, Latika is terrified to approach him. Still Latika finds a way to engineer something that will work before she is able to share their need for sanitation with Mister Samir and change minds, including her own about burying that moon.

From Burying the Moon by Andrée Poulin, illus. by Sonali Zohra

Today, November 19, is World Toilet Day and Burying the Moon makes a significant contribution in recognizing the great number of people globally who do not have access to toilets and sanitation. Worse yet is the gender inequality and discrimination that accompanies this deficiency. With girls prohibited from going to school once they turn twelve in anticipation of them getting their menstrual periods, the stigma of expelling their bodies' waste is compounded. But Andrée Poulin does more than just indicate how inconvenient the lack of toilets are for women. She recognizes that the Shame, always capitalized in Burying the Moon, is a greater burden for them. It robs them of their pride, their voices and their education. 

 

Telling Latika's story in free verse is inspiring. The text is heavy with meaning and emotion but short on filler. The depth of Latika's loathing for the moon, her jealousy at what boys are allowed to do, and her anger at the harm their village's unsanitary conditions have done is so palpable that readers will feel all that. Even though most who read this book will know nothing of these conditions, whether sanitation or gender discrimination, they will sympathize and hopefully learn more. (Andrée Poulin who previously worked in international development assistance offers further reading to help inform readers.)

 

With India's Sonali Zohra's digitally-rendered illustrations, rich in purples, roses and blues with lines of vitality, providing the context for Andrée Poulin's story, Burying the Moon is both a story to inform about a global issue and one of empowerment as Latika steps up to find a solution while discovering her own voice.

The Shaman's Apprentice

Written by Zacharias Kunuk

Illustrated by Megan Kyak-Monteith

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-268-0

32 pp.

Ages 9-12

May 2021

In this picture book based on his animated short film Angakuksajaujuq: The Shaman's Apprentice, Inuk director Zacharias Kunuk delivers a powerful story about a young girl facing her fears as she learns from her grandmother, a shaman, in finding healing help from the underworld.

From The Shaman's Apprentice by Zacharias Kunuk, illus. by Megan Kyak-Monteith

Qunguliq and her granddaughter Supijaq are summoned by a young man to provide healing for an ill man at his camp. Packing up their qamutiik (sled), they head to the nearby camp, unaware that the qurvik (bed pan) has fallen off in their travels.

Though Qunguliq questions the ill man about why he is sick and what he may have done wrong, he refuses to answer her. Qunguliq requests Supijaq retrieve the qurvik which the girl cannot locate but, sent out again to the qamutiik, the pot has reappeared. Using the pot for its intended purpose, Qunguliq smears the urine on the ill man's face but without any of the expected healing.

Qunguliq decides they must travel underground and, with a magic song, opens a deep hole leading there. Cautioning her granddaughter that she must not be fearful if their journey underground is to be successful, Qunguliq leads them down a slope deep into the earth. But as they travel down, Supijaq realizes that their bodies have changed, becoming limp and soft as if their bones had left their bodies.

From The Shaman's Apprentice by Zacharias Kunuk, illus. by Megan Kyak-Monteith

At the bottom, they face a giant husky protecting a doorway. Again, Supijaq is warned not to show fear, and the two proceed into a darkened room of tormented human spirits and Kannaaluk, also known as The One Below.

Kannaaluk reveals something to them which triggers a vision for the shamans of what the man had done, exposing a selfishness as the cause of his own illness. Returning to the sick man's qarmaq (sod house), Qunguliq confronts the man about breaking a taboo before he is healed.

From The Shaman's Apprentice by Zacharias Kunuk, illus. by Megan Kyak-Monteith

This traditional Inuit story is rich with culture, language and an inter-generational relationship blended with subtle lessons about facing fears and karma. From the qarmaq with its qulliq (seal oil lamp) to healing practices and the presence of Kannaaluk (the legendary spirit, also known as Takannaaluk and Nuliajuk, who controls the sea mammals), Zacharias Kunuk embeds us in a traditional setting of the Inuit and honours this story with its messages of customs and beliefs. Born in a qarmaq on Baffin Island, Zacharias Kunuk tells this story with authenticity and insight and with the eye of a filmmaker. Qunguliq, whose voice is the only one given words, brings the wisdom and affection while her granddaughter listens and learns through her silence and actions. But with the artwork of Megan Kyak-Monteith, also born in Nunavut, The Shaman's Apprentice is radiant, whether in the qarmaq lit by the qulliq, or across the tundra of glowing blue snow, or even in the depths of the underworld. Though her palette is limited, Megan Kyak-Monteith evokes warmth and cold, comfort and tension with the profoundness of her technique. 

As with all traditional storytelling that is destined to teach and carry forward culture, The Shaman's Apprentice does so admirably in words and art, informing those outside of the culture and preserving it for those within.