The Shaman’s Apprentice

The Shaman’s Apprentice is a tale set in an Inuit community of indeterminate time and place. Supijaq, a young woman, is the Shaman’s apprentice. Her grandmother, Qunguliq, is the Shaman. They are quietly occupying themselves when a young man enters their qarmaq or sod house requesting that the Shaman travel to his camp to heal a sick man there. Qunguliq instructs her apprentice on what to bring, and soon they are travelling by sled dog to the next camp. On their way, the qurvik or pot they brought on the journey falls off the sled. When they arrive, Qunguliq seeks to understand the cause of the sick man’s illness. She asks Supijaq to fetch the qurvik. When Supijaq informs Qunguliq that it’s missing, the apprentice is instructed to look again and finds it.

Because the Shaman’s medicine initially does not heal the man, Qunguliq declares they must travel underground to determine the cause of his illness; however, she warns Supijaq of the dangers of the mission. Using a magic song, Qunguliq creates an entrance to the underground that they will take. As they travel, they are physically transformed. At the bottom, they are blocked by a massive husky who guards a room. They must show no fear if they hope to pass the husky and enter the room; the entranceway is filled with the bones of those who had shown fear. Once inside the room, they encounter Kannaaluk, “the One Below”, who can reveal the source of the man’s illness. Kannaaluk reveals something that produces a vision for both Qunguliq and Supijaq, and this vision reveals the truth behind the man’s illness. The pair return from the underworld; Qunguliq heals the man; and they then return home.

The Shaman’s Apprentice is a lovely and engaging book, one which provides a window into traditional Inuit practice and relationships, situating the importance and centrality of the elder female in a position of knowledge and authority within the community. Despite both the dramatic and magical or supernatural elements of the story, it’s a surprisingly quiet and calm tale, complemented by the visual style of the artist. The use of many Inuit words adds to the richness of the atmosphere of the book. I found myself thinking about stories from other cultures that also explore healing journeys to the underworld and the figures and lessons to be learned there, and the ways in which this one was both similar and different.

The plot is rather compressed into a relatively short book. And that would be my main disappointment, that it is too short for the complex and detailed story it wants to tell. I feel the story, the characters, and the setting would all have been better served by a longer book. The title of the book is The Shaman’s Apprentice, and yet we don’t learn much about her or from her. There is more to be plumbed from this book than the scant 14 panels of text can provide. This story might have been better served as a longer book with more detail on the journey the apprentice must make and her transformation. As a shorter, fully illustrated book, it feels more like a book aimed at a younger audience, but I don’t think that’s the author’s goal. Although I can appreciate the tone of mystery and restraint the author is trying to convey, there’s perhaps too much left unexplained and unexplored, which is a shame.

The Shaman’s Apprentice is beautifully illustrated with warm tones of brown and grey. However, I have some editorial questions about the illustrations. First, the illustrations don’t always align with the action described on the facing page. This dissonance is partly a result of so much text packed being into each page. For example, when the missing pot is somehow restored, readers don’t see Supijaq discovering this incredible moment. Second, there are lines drawn on the faces of Supijaq and Qunguliq. They’re somewhat distracting. Are they markings of a healer in that community? (They’re not on the sick man’s face.) I would like to have known that or had that explained somehow. (In addition to the helpful “Glossary” at the back of the book, some other notes might have been helpful to a non-Inuit reader.) Third, the husky, although described as ferocious, does not appear to be particularly threatening as illustrated.

I have similar editorial issues with the text, itself. For example, the special pot that Qunguliq needs for her medicine is actually a bedpan. A check in the “Glossary” tells readers it’s a bedpan, but, in the story, it’s only referred to as a pot. Given that Qunguliq is a healer, readers may not think of that kind of pot, but rather of a pot containing healing potions. It then comes as a surprise when she’s using urine as her medicine. It’s not that it’s inappropriate; in fact, it’s interesting, but it’s surprising and unexpected to this western reader.

Younger, English-first readers might need assistance with some of the Inuit terms found in The Shaman’s Apprentice but the “Glossary” does include a pronunciation guide.