A Journey to the Mother of the Sea
A Journey to the Mother of the Sea
On a bench sat an enormous woman with a thick mass of long, tangled hair draped over her body. This had to be the Mother of the Sea. She glared angrily at her uninvited guest, and the old woman became a little anxious.
In this retelling of a Greenlandic legend, an old shaman woman braves excruciating trials in order to save her village’s livelihood. When hunters can no longer find breaks in the ice, they come to an old shaman couple in desperation. The old man and woman are frail and doubt that they can help, but they agree to try. Soon the old woman travels to the bottom of the ocean (by being eaten by animals and then falling down through the water as droppings) and encounters the Mother of the Sea. It turns out that the Mother of the Sea has blocked access to the water in retaliation for humans’ mistreatment of the ocean. Will the old woman be able to placate her?
Reviewer’s Note: Before beginning this review, I must state that I am not familiar with the Greenlandic Inuit oral storytelling tradition. This means that I have undoubtedly missed important facets of this title’s narrative and illustrations and may, in fact, have critiqued elements of the story that are integral to its origin culture.
As with many traditional stories turned into picture books, the narrative style found in A Journey to the Mother of the Sea is matter-of-fact. Unfortunately, this is taken to the extreme. Little time is spent on describing the environment or internal thoughts and feelings of the characters, thereby diminishing engagement and suspense. Readers of the macabre will enjoy the visceral idea of the old woman being eaten and then digested, but so little time is spent on the event that readers’ imaginations will have little time to ignite.
Repetition is found frequently in the text, to mixed effect. Often, it feels like needless reiterations of information that the reader has already absorbed. At other times, it provides a reassuring cadence to the story. There are a few instances of needless explanation which may irritate readers who would rather be trusted to make the simple leaps of logic themselves. These devices may be better suited to oral storytelling as they do ensure that no listener is left behind.
The unofficial forward in the book feels somewhat unnecessary as, again, most of its information can be easily gleaned from the story. A foreword or afterword that provided historical and geographical context would have nicely rounded out the title as few people are more than passingly familiar with Greenland and its people.
Despite the previously discussed concerns surrounding the text, it cannot be disputed that the story immerses the reader into a time and place in history. While the legend is fantastical, the everyday life of historic people in Greenland shines through, from their dependence on the ocean, to the treatment of elders, to the harsh environment in which they lived.
The art that accompanies this tale does an excellent job of providing an atmospheric setting. The full-bleed illustrations, which appear to be done in watercolor, are dark and brooding where appropriate and feature an increasingly brighter tone as the story progresses. While the illustrations do not usually add to the narrative itself, they pair well with the text and play an important role both in recreating the setting and bringing the legend to life.
Despite some violent elements in the story, none of the illustrations are graphic in any way. In fact, red barely enters the colour palette at all. The Mother of the Sea is depicted topless, a state of dress which is appropriate given the context of the story.
Despite some shortcomings in A Journey to the Mother of the Sea, this rare glimpse into Greenlandic Inuit lore will interest school-age readers. Those who like stories with grisly elements will be particularly enthusiastic.
Sadie Tucker is a children’s librarian at the Vancouver Public Library in Vancouver, British Columbia.