Split Tooth

In her debut, Inuit throat singer Tagaq turns from sounds that evoke the North to writing stories that recall the often harsh realities of life in Nunavut in the 1970s. The book combines short fiction and poetry to weave together a coming-of-age story that sometimes reads like an exceptional young girl’s journal. The deceptively simple vignettes mix dreams, myth, and the quotidian occurrences of Nunavut life. Through the nameless teenage girl protagonist, the book covers the impact of the residential school system; the roles of family, ancestors, and elders; high school jockeying for social position; experimentation with drugs and alcohol; and teenage pregnancy. Perhaps the best encapsulation of the twin themes of beauty and danger in the work is the depiction of the land itself: “The land has no manners; you only obey and enjoy what is afforded to you by her greatness.” With lines such as “As peaceful as I wish to be, it certainly feels good to get drunk on violence” and “No one has taught us how to do this, but the ritual is old and living in our bones,” Tagaq’s genre-defying work establishes her as a careful, gifted wordsmith. [em](Sept.) [/em]