by Zahra
What would happen if Literature, Anthropology and Scientific Endeavour met on a
severe barren glacial fjord? Perhaps they would greet one another as brothers
and huddle in their caribou hide furs to share an idea or two. It seems
entirely plausible after the talk at Trinity Hall last week entitled Language,
Literature and Medicine in Extremes of Latitude and Longitude where the
intriguing intersection of these disciplines was beautifully explored. Each
member of the panel attested to the power of extreme spaces (the Polar North,
the South Pole and the peak of Everest) to inspire incredible feats.
The work of linguistic anthropologist Stephen Leonard took place in NW
Greenland with a sub-group of Inuit called the Inugguit. Their language is
called Inuktun which translates to ‘language of here’ or ‘language of
people’...Unsurprising when we hear that until 1818 this community of 700
believed they were the only people in the world. It is an agglutinating
language of sighs and groans where words can be 56 letters long - (imagine the
price of binding an Inugguitian thesis!) It is a language still deeply
connected with the land, with over 24 words for wind, over 30 different ways to
describe snow and a spiritual connection with the hila (the Inuktun word for
weather but also consciousness and mind). As climate change brings drastic
changes to this community Leonard wanted to preserve the indigenous knowledge
bound within their stories. He documented the oral tradition of drum-songs and
life tales which convey the secrets to their particular way of life. As Leonard
so aptly conveys it, language is not merely about words but ‘how a group of
speakers know the world.’
After the talk I reflected upon how my own mother tongue is a dialect and one
which few of the peers in my community are able to speak. It saddens me that I
didn’t document my raconteur grandfather’s fantastic tales before he passed
away. I remember they heavily featured ambaa na jaar (mango trees) and popats
(parrots) but I can recall little else except the feeling of sitting on my
grandfather’s knee entirely rapt (wrapped even) within the story fabric he so
skilfully wove. This rich oral storytelling history of my childhood is lost
forevermore.
The other speakers were equally fascinating. Physiologist Andrew Murray' work
in Everest has attributed altitude acclimatization to the ability of skeletal
mitochondria to reversibly reduce their densities. They hope this will lead to
future application with ICU patients presenting with low oxygen levels. This
part of the talk certainly satisfied the scientist side of me. However as this
is a children’s literature blog (!) I return there for my final thoughts....
From the Narnian Winter of a Hundred Years to Van Allsburg’s Polar Express,
extreme spaces endure in children’s literature too. Even happy footed Mumble
and the March of those well narrated Penguins, point toward our collective
interest in the ‘otherness’ originating from a geography so unlike our own.
Where the the landscape of literature meets nature’s expanse of icy wilderness-
exists a margin where Iorek Byrnison roams and where undoubtedly magic happens.Labels: conference, storytelling
