TO IMAGINE a character like Orphan Ahwak, I needed first to do some reading. I started reading biographies about extraordinary Inuit women such as Ada Blackjack and Anauta. I also read histories of the Arctic, of exploration and of the early fur trade as it reached Manitoba and Saskatchewan. As I discovered my lead character and her unique adventure, the story took me into other reading: books on animals, plants, geography, archaeology, anthropology. My notes show one checklist after another, scribbled down as I wrote the story. The lists were full of questions such as: Would Mother keep her children if forced to marry Watonbee? Were kayaks likely made from driftwood and bone? How are beaver dams constructed? All were questions to be answered online or at the library, if possible.
I decided that Orphan Ahwak, or more correctly Aneze, came from a people who traveled the northern edges of the boreal forest of what is now known as western Canada. I imagined that Aneze’s people, based on my reading on the Dene and the Chippewa, had not yet encountered European traders. I imagined the people to the south, based on my reading on the Woodland Cree, had also not yet begun significant trading, as evidenced by Aneze’s “enemies’ ” lack of firearms.
Especially helpful was the Dene elders’ project They Will Have Our Words, edited by Lynda Holland and Mary Ann Kkailther. A great source of historical color and inspiration was explorer Samuel Hearne’s journal entries (as selected by Farley Mowat in Coppermine Journey, and appearing in Ken McGoogan’s Ancient Mariner). In 1770, Dene leader Matonabbee led Samuel Hearne on more than 3,500 miles of hard overland travel to find the Northwest Passage.
The old man’s culture is based mostly on my reading of Asen Balikci’s book The Netsilik Eskimo. The Netsilingmiut inhabit the region around Boothia Peninsula and King William Island, Nunavut.
However, I did take liberties with the historical record. The old man’s kayak-roll technique is taken from the Greenlander kayak roll. Similar kayak rolls are practiced in Alaska. There is no record of such in-kayak rolls being performed along the Canadian Arctic coast. But it could be presumed that the technique migrated from West to East, along with early Inuit peoples. And even if kayak rolling was no longer practiced among the old man’s people, I decided that a hunter as wise and cultivated as the old man would surely be aware of it (through his travels, or his dreams perhaps). I imagined he would teach it to his sons, and to Aneze, as an intelligent (and enjoyable) safety precaution.
Any nomadic group that was familiar with the Barren Grounds (of what is now Nunavut and the Northwest Territories) would have likely had encounters with Inuit people. But these Inuit would have been inland tundra dwellers, not coastal people like the old man. For the sake of the story, Aneze had to experience an entirely different world, where little would seem ordinary or recognizable. To do this, I transported her what would be a superhuman distance in record time. Whether she covered this distance herself, whether the old man happened to be traveling far from his territory, or whether he learned of her and went to collect her by magic, I leave for you to decide. Myself, I’d say the magic theory is the most plausible.
When necessary, I referred to individual animals as “he.” I did this for clarity only, since Aneze was a “she.” If only our English language had a personal pronoun that didn’t refer to gender, but also had a personal ring to it. Aneze would never consider calling an animal “it.”
Obviously Orphan Ahwak is written from imagination, not experience. People, wildlife and landscapes have been dreamed up and then made as true as possible through research at the McGill University libraries, Concordia libraries and the Bibliotheque Nationale. At times I had to synthesize what I thought to be a plausible scenario, based on a variety of sources. And since the book is set three hundred-odd years ago, it was not always possible to find definitive answers. Also, because I was trying to engage today’s readers, there were moments when I consciously colored my portrait of Aneze and her story with a contemporary slant. (As opposed to all the unconscious times I’ve no doubt done it.) Aneze’s treatment of Ketch’s wound is one example; when she refers to her heart as the seat of her feelings is another.
Having said all that, I sincerely hope I’ve written no egregious errors into the book. No reader deserves to be yanked harshly out of the world of a story just because the author allowed her ignorance to show.
My hope was to write a gripping story about a courageous young spirit in an astoundingly challenging environment—a spirit who is much like other young spirits I’m lucky to know, even if their challenging environments are very different today. If reading Orphan Ahwak is even half as enjoyable as writing it was, then its work is done.
Thanks for reading.
Raquel Rivera