> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://thedreampedlar.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # books you may love: Taaqtumi compiled by Neil Christopher (part 2) - URL: https://thedreampedlar.com/taaqtumi-part-2/ - Published: 2026-11-11T01:00:36.000Z - Updated: 2026-11-11T01:00:36.000Z - Description: On the power of stories to make a reader feel seen, understood and accepted. - Author: Anitha Krishnan - Tags: books you may love, a year of reading indigenous fiction Having sauntered down memory lane in my [previous](https://thedreampedlar.com/taaqtumi-part-1/) post on *Taaqtumi*, I spoke to my mom about the stories my Paati (grandmother) used to tell me. My mom confirmed that it was indeed Paati's grandfather who was rumoured to have the ability to see ghosts and was said to have driven away two phantoms that had attempted to rob some family jewellery! Exciting times! Amma reminded me that back in those days, toilets were not inside homes. Instead, people had outhouses they had to go to, sometimes in the dead of the night. So was it shadows or the swaying branches of trees in the middle of the night that created a fertile ground for imagination? Or was there more than a kernel of truth in those stories? No one can tell now. But it gave me a sense of connection to my ancestors when Amma said that her own grandmother (whose father was the ghostbuster) used to tell these stories to her. Amazing how stories have a way of living after the people they're about are long gone! Amma also reminded me that the fire-breathing ghost I had mentioned was called a *Kolli-vaayi-peyi* (in Tamil). kolli (kol-lee) = fire/flame vaayi (vaa-yee) = mouth peyi (pay-yee) = ghost --- Coming back to *Taaqtumi*, the short story, *Revenge*, by Thomas Anguti Johnston led me to the first Inuktitut word I tried to say out loud. nanurluk (na-NUR-look) = giant polar bear (from the Glossary at the back of the book) *Nanurluk*. How it rolls on the tongue! What a beautiful sounding word! It's a heart-wrenching tale. It begins with a lone man hunting a seal and leaving it as bait for something/someone he is looking to lure ... for reasons we understand as the story unfolds. > I am the man who is alone. That which preyed on boats from time to time took away my mother and father. When my parents were gone, it was many years before I felt any kind of love again. But I was already different by then. A child who grows without love doesn't grow into a peaceful or rational person. It was too late for me. The love that came too late brought up other feelings. Jealousy. Paranoia. Cowardice. Distrust. > \~ An excerpt from *Revenge* by Thomas Anguti Johnston, from *Taaqtumi* This reminds me of something D and I recently came across in our reading of the *Wings Of Fire* series by Tui T. Sutherland. The [last](https://thedreampedlar.com/the-everlasting-delights-of-reading-amazing-books/) I wrote about our bedtime reading of this amazing series of books is shortly after we had finished reading Book #10\. Book #11 begins with a completely different arc altogether in the continent of Pantala and introduces new tribes — LeafWings, SilkWings, and HiveWings. We're currently on Book #15, [*The Flames Of Hope*](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57468679-the-flames-of-hope). It took me a while to start enjoying this story arc that runs through Books 11—15, especially because I was missing one of my favourite-st characters from the earlier books, a brave SandWing named Qibli. Without giving any of the juicy details away, let's just say that the dragons of Pyrrhia are not completely forgotten in this set. In fact, they come to play some key roles. But here's the passage that the above excerpt from *Revenge* reminded me of. A dialogue between two dragons. > "Why *would* he give you his memories?" Luna asked. > "Because I want them!" Lizard exploded. "And I am the most miserable dragon who ever lived, and then died, and then had to half-live, half-be-dead forever all stuck together with a hateful human and a desperate weed, so I should get to have anything I want! Give them!" > \~ An excerpt from *The Flames Of Hope*, Book #15 in the *Wings Of Fire* series, by Tui T. Sutherland Do you too feel that? That sense of desperation that comes from living a life of deprivation for so long that the characters come to believe that they *'deserve'* some good too. *'Deserve'* is such a loaded word to use. It smacks of *'entitlement'*. But that's not the sense in which I'm using it here. You know how we can look at someone in a difficult situation and tend to think, "You *deserve* to be happy." > If someone deserves to be happy, and they're not, does that imply they were wronged? That life has been unjust or unkind to them? > *'Unkind?'* I suppose, yes. > But *'unjust?'* Isn't that a stretch? Because life never comes with a promise of being just or rational. > It's only natural, then, that humans (and dragons) too are not always just or rational. I have gone down that path several times, especially when I was flailing about for a period of several years I now like to think of as the dark night of the soul. I was so miserable back then that I couldn't stomach the (apparent) ease with which others seemed to go about their lives. I was convinced that I ought to have some good in my life, and that I *'deserved'* to have it. Or that my terrible behaviour arising from my misery was entirely justified and had a perfectly convincing explanation. Sigh! I was definitely not an easy person to live with in those times. It took a lot of time and effort to truly embody the principle of choosing my attitude no matter the circumstances. It was gratifying to see characters in two different stories voice the same sentiment. That makes it a whole lot easier for me to validate my feelings from that dark period of time without excusing my behaviour. So thank you, Johnston and Sutherland, for writing such amazing tales! --- Another Inuktitut word that stayed with me was 'sila', meaning sky. It's the title of a short story by K.C. Carthew. sila (SI-la) = sky (from the Glossary at the back of the book) Two syllables. Like two musical notes. *Si*. *La*. *Sila* is another tale that begins with the sweetness of a mother caring for her infant and morphs into a tragedy that couldn't have been foreseen. As the author writes at the beginning of the story ... > Drastic changes in climate are evident by the appearances of animal species that have never before been seen in the Northwest Territories roaming throughout its various regions. In recent years, mountain lions have been spotted at the Arctic Circle. While some animals venture further north, others head south ... > \~ An excerpt from *Sila* by K.C. Carthew, from *Taaqtumi* The story ends in a way that requires the reader to fill in the blank. I love stories like these, which don't care to tie loose ends precisely. It leaves the reader with a lingering sense of *'What if?'* and gives us the opportunity to either accept the most likely tragic ending or be brave enough to assume a more hopeful, optimistic outcome. Entirely up to us! It's funny how my younger self used to hate loose endings. Life was unpredictable enough, and I wanted the fiction I read to provide comfort and satisfactory resolutions, deliver justice where required, and ensure that the world in which the story was set was a just and trustworthy place. Now, life is still very unpredictable. In fact, my days feel meaningless at times, and happiness and meaning have become things that I often have to deliberately seek out. Which is probably why when it comes to neatly resolved tales, while they do provide comfort, it's hard to overlook the fact that this is fiction, after all. On the contrary, fiction that is unpredictable and a little wild and irrational seems to resonate so much more. It mirrors real life far more than neatly wrapped tales seem to do. I suppose that's a good thing. Perhaps it means that I no longer want to read fiction with an intent to *escape* my life. Maybe I primarily read to be seen and to find a sense of validation that my life is not bizarre, that the fact that reality has failed to live up to my fantasies of it is not symbolic of any wrongdoing or shortcoming on my part, and that this is how it is, this is how things are, and that's perfectly alright.