This is okay
Being Caribou: Five Months on Foot with an Arctic Herd by Karsten Heuer
Dear Readers,
Since 2015, I have been working on a novel about a woman who climbs a mountain.
Or, more accurately, since 2015, I’ve been failing to write a novel about a woman who climbs a mountain
While I have written at least three drafts, maybe five. I don’t like it. For a long time, I haven’t known why.
Then, I went skiing near Banff over the holidays. And guess what happened? While looking at this view, I heard a voice.
When I say a voice, I mean a narrator started talking in my head. She had a strong point of view that wasn’t mine. I could see things through her eyes.
In the distance in the photo above, for example, is Mount Assiniboine—her favourite peak, the highest in the Canadian Rockies. She climbed it when she was 16 years old.
Everywhere I looked, I knew what she thought, the routes she would climb, the snow conditions, and who she would bring along. She loves sharp mustard and hates sardines. She has boots with red laces. She smokes in bed.
That evening, I pulled out my computer. Her opinions flowed out the ends of my fingers. Her name is Deirdre, but she wants you to call her Dee.
Before hearing Dee’s voice, I had put years of research into this book. I had made trips to archives, consulted experts, thought about gear, logistics, and food. I have memorized the route they climb up the mountain. I wrote character sketches that didn’t ring true. After all that, I was still stuck. At some point, I gave up.
I didn’t go looking for this voice on purpose. It was slightly exasperating, then, to be at an elevation of 8,954 ft and hear it so clearly.
After 10 years, she was waiting right here.
The experience reminded me of how much the landscape can shape a mindset. No book speaks to this more than Being Caribou by Karsten Heuer.
It’s a favourite, the true story of the author, Karsten Heuer and his wife, filmmaker Leanne Allison, joining 123,00 caribou on a five month trek through the northern part of the Yukon and Alaska.
They followed the caribou to learn about their migration to the Arctic Refuge. The book was published in 2006 and, at the time, the refuge was slated for drilling by oil companies. This would disrupt the herd and potentially destroy their calving grounds.
As of as week, the area is in grave danger again. Trump has signed orders to expand drilling in the Arctic.
In the book, Heuer and Allison’s journey is shaped by the path of the migrating caribou. By moving through the landscape, they come to understand how intimately every thing is connected:
“Our movements were being dictated by the caribou whose movements were being dictated by the bugs whose movements were being dictated by the shifting winds.”
By this, he means—a cloud of mosquitos helped write this book.
Following the caribou is gruelling and the couple have many unexpected adventures with bears, tent poles, wolves, cold weather, and swift rivers. They watch a female caribou, a cow, die from an infestation of nose bot flies. The description of suffering is gut wrenching, but it helps Heuer understand the “extraordinary acceptance” required to exist in the wild.
This was a lesson Heuer extended to the end. After being diagnosed with a neurological condition, he chose to end his life this past November. As he said to Drew Anderson, “I was like, ‘This is okay.’ ”
This is okay.
These are words to live and die by.
As humans, especially those like me of European Ancestry, we sometimes think and act as if the world is ours to shape. It’s not. Whether in the Arctic, the Rockies, following a caribou, or sitting in my office at a computer, the landscape shapes us. We exist because of it, not the other way around.
So, I went to the mountains. And as I stood in the thin air, the dry snow underfoot, with the wind pushing against me—finally, I found the woman who would climb a mountain in my story. I understood how it gave her shape.
It took ten years. This is okay.
Yours in reading,
Claire
P.S.
Priyanka Mattoo of The Multitude writes about being in Los Angeles during the fires and how the, “relationship to objects and the feeling of home is forever changed.” She has many suggestions for how you can support people there.
Have you watched the second season of Severance? We did a rewatch of the first season as preparation. I’d forgotten many details. Also, I hope more cast members will spend time in public places. This is the kind of public theatre we need.
January, long nights, and T.V., I finished Say Nothing, which was well-acted, incredibly interesting, and I found this article in The Baffler essential for working through my feelings (thank you, Michelle). Who gets to keep silent? “The state does not get weepy and commit to tape what they have done.”
“I don’t have a family doctor,” I wrote about the experience of many Canadians in the weekend The Globe and Mail [gift link].
My next book, How to Survive a Bear Attack, will be out March 25th. Heather O’Neill, one of my favourite authors, wrote about reading an advance copy on Instagram, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in the head of a bear and weighed 300 lbs before, and it was excellent. What a swim I had!” Pre-orders are much appreciated, if you can swing it.
This letter is about books I love, it’s monthly, and free. Thank you for reading!
It really is okay.
Thanks for this post. I've been working on a novel for six years now and feel the same way--it'll come together when it comes together.
"So, I went to the mountains. And as I stood in the thin air, the dry snow underfoot, with the wind pushing against me—finally, I found the woman who would climb a mountain in my story" - Already can't wait to read!