As if some armchair wild water swimming with Roger Deakin wasn't enough to chill me to the bone, I can't quite fathom a sudden need to go to the Arctic, so I will have to blame Robert Macfarlane, who mentions the life-changing impact of reading Arctic Dreams by Barry Lopez, in his forthcoming book Landmarks. I'd better not say any more, or quote anything pre-embargo had I... but suffice to say I was convinced enough to order a copy of Barry Lopez's book from You-Know-Where, and from whence I have 'borrowed' this description...
'Lopez offers a thorough examination of this obscure world-its terrain, its wildlife, its history of Eskimo natives and intrepid explorers who have arrived on their icy shores. But what turns this marvelous work of natural history into a breathtaking study of profound originality is his unique meditation on how the landscape can shape our imagination, desires, and dreams. Its prose as hauntingly pure as the land it describes, Arctic Dreams is nothing less than an indelible classic of modern literature.'
The Kindle free sample of the latest UK version of Arctic Dreams did at least allow me to read Robert Macfarlane's introduction before deciding to take a chance on a US paperback that just might be on of those lovely floppy editions that I love reading. Tactile, soft to handle and pages that just fall open thanks to the reader-compliant non-combative spine, so I was thrilled when my copy arrived to find it was exactly right.
I always like to examine how much I think I know before I embark on a journey like this ...bit of remote stuff about tundra and permafrost comes to mind, white-out, ice floes, icebergs being 9/10 under the water, the Northern Lights, Eskimos, igloos ...that sort of thing, really not a lot beyond children's encyclopaedia level. And nor do I know why I was suddenly interested now other than it seemed like an interesting far off place to go.
I am about half-way through and I am mesmerised both by the landscape and the writing. I can also vouch for a book like this having a real calming effect in stressful times. Breathing somehow unwittingly synchronises with the rhythm and pace of the land and I can almost hear my feet crunching on the snow...
'You can sit here for a long time with the history of man like a stone in your hand. The stillness, the pure light, encourage it...'
...suggests Barry Lopez and he makes it very easy to do exactly that.
Not only am I entranced by the sheer depth of a landscape that I had always thought was surely a tiny bit monotonous, but also for all the wealth supplementary information and observation and reflection that is woven in. History, both natural and the usual sort means that I am now feeling well versed on everything from Polar bears to muskox via whales and maybe most fascinating of all the narwhal.
Did I know what a narwhal was??
A bit of a mystery, that's what.
The unicorn of the ocean, about which not a lot was known when this classic of the Far North was published back in 1986, and I wonder how much more may be known now. The horn for which no real purpose can be discovered (me, I'd have assumed for pronging a fish, but then how do you get it off the end) attached to a sensitive creature that occupies a three-dimensional acoustic space, and with a highly refined auditory system. It is hard now to imagine sea life not being driven crazy by underwater drilling, and I doubt I had ever considered that before.
Nor did I really give much consideration to the Inuit
Communities, frequently decimated by disease brought in by the 19th century whaling ships, have had to recover and survive in a landscape that presents unique challenges, and Barry Lopez explores some of the unique words that say so much about their essential spirit. Landmarks and Robert Macfarlane have really opened my eyes to the possibilities of single words that can convey a sentence, so I was swooping on them as I read..
Nuannaarpoq ~ of taking extravagent pleasure in being alive and the delight in finding the same in others
or how about this for a version of Sad Syndrome...
Perlerorneq ~ extreme winter depression; to feel the 'weight of life'; to look ahead to all that must be accomplished and to retreat to the present feeling defeated, weary before starting, a core of anger, a miserable sadness...
And the Inuit treatment for any family member suffering from this is compassion and sleep.
What could be better.
I have a better understanding of the Aurora Borealis having not realised this is all about an electrical discharge with some energy being released as light (that is the gist...several pages condensed into one line there) and with the power to draw a viewer emotionally out of themselves... the appeal, Barry Lopez suggests, is to the imagination of something spiritual...
It all triggered a very early stargazing memory too... a picture of the Aurora. 1956 and the first set of cards I can recall collecting from Brooke Bond tea was Out Into Space, and this card (in the loft now probably) one of my favourites...
Now I am sure plenty of you have witnessed the Northern Lights, I would love to know your thoughts on the experience...
How does it make you feel to see those rippling curtains of colour?
Likewise something called the fata morgana...the trick of the Arctic light that suggests mountain ranges in the distance, but which is in fact distorting the scale and depth of perception to create a mirage...
Has anyone experienced that?
It was astonishing to be reading the Ice and Light chapter whilst seeing those stunning pictures of a frozen Niagara Falls on the news, and then to reach a chapter entitled The Country of the Mind on good old Baden Powell's Thinking Day, but the trouble now is that I really really don't want this book, or this Arctic journey to end and there will be more about it here I am sure. I have already ordered The Frozen Planet DVD to keep the magic going.
Meanwhile, should I read more by Barry Lopez or is Arctic Dreams his best work..
And can anyone suggest some possible reading routes for my next Arctic connection once I reluctantly alight from this one...
Oh yes, and do you like my Arctic Dreams bookmark...
The scrimshaw in Stromness Museum on Orkney.
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