Episode 161 – Wayfaring Stranger – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 161 Show Notes

Source: Inuit Mythology

This week on MYTH, we’re headed north of north to meet some very unusual husbands. You’ll learn that short kings make the best providers, that kayaks can be turned into submarines with a little know-how (and a lot of magic), and that you should be careful where you throw rocks. Then, in Gods and Monsters, handsome strangers are not always who they appear to be. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 161, “Wayfaring Stranger”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
I recently started watching North of North (a fun comedy if you’re looking for something to watch), which is why we’re heading north to the lands of the Inuit this week. The name actually refers to a wide-ranging group of culturally similar Indigenous peoples in North America, Greenland, and Russia, so as is so often the case, there are multiple versions of many stories. The version I’ll be using for our main tale comes from Mythology of the Inuit, collected by Evelyn Wolfson. It was first collected by Dr. Hinrich Johannes Rink in 1875.
Once, long ago, a young woman named Arouk lived with her elderly parents in a small sealskin tent close to the mouth of a great fjord (at least in the summertime). Arouk was a stunningly beautiful woman and so the hunters who frequently traveled up and down the fjord in the summer would stop and chat her up. Inevitably, Arouk’s father would chase these would-be suitors off since he believed that none of them were good enough for his baby girl. In truth, the old man basically thought that no man was good enough for her, which put her in something of a pickle. Arouk loved her father but she was lonely and wanted to get married sooner rather than later.
On this particular day, a fine afternoon in late summer, a handsome young man paddled his way up the fjord and over to shore where the family pitched their tent. “Arouk! Arouk! Come out and speak with me!” That caught the young woman’s attention. She straightened from whatever chore she had been occupied with and turned to the door flap. “He knows my name, father. How curious! I should like to speak with him.” She poked her head out around the caribou hide to get a look at the stranger. Of course her father refused to let this go on. He knew nothing about this man except that he was definitely not good enough for his little girl. Pushing her aside, the old man stalked out of the tent, yelling and waving his fist angrily. “Go away! There’s no one here by that name and there never has been.”
It wasn’t a particularly convincing lie, even without Arouk still peering curiously out the door, clearly visible to the young man. “With all due respect, sir, I know she’s in there – I saw her lovely face. I have heard tales of her beauty and her kind heart, and I would see for myself if they do her justice.” And with all the boldness of youth, the young man beached his kayak, got out, and strode directly for the tent. It was uncouth and brazen, and it made the old man furious. Never before had his threats been so soundly ignored.
“I said, go away, asshole!” he shouted, shoving the young man as hard as he could. There was still a great deal of wiry strength in his old arms, and he succeeded in knocking the younger man off balance so that he stumbled back towards the fjord. He caught himself and now it was his turn to be angry. He shoved the belligerent old man right back, knocking him on his ass in the dirt. This outrage had gone from impolite to downright insulting. The old man wasn’t about to take this offense sitting down (I mean, he literally was sitting down), so he scrambled to his feet. Hunting about, he found a nice, heavy rock and hurled it at the younger man. His aim was as good as it had ever been and it struck the young suitor right in the temple. The young man dropped bonelessly like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to do that. I wanted to hit him but not kill him!” He hurried towards the tent where his wife and daughter waited. “We need to get the fuck out of here right now! Pack up everything, take down the tent, and load it all up on the umiak” (an open boat made from animal hide, larger than a kayak and traditionally rowed by Inuit women). The two women scrambled to obey and had everything broken down and loaded up in record time. They were just pushing away from shore when the figure of the young man stirred in the mud. It turns out that the old man hadn’t actually checked his kill – he hadn’t been dead, just unconscious. He had a massive headache and a furious temper at being so poorly treated. Shaking his own fist at the retreating family, he shouted a curse at them. “You’ll be sorry, old man! Your daughter will never find a husband and you will never find food. You’ll starve before I or any other man shares our supplies with you. I’ll share the story of your shame far and wide!”
That wasn’t a good thing, but the little family hoped that he was more bluster than anything. They rowed for hours along the shore until they came to a small island that lay far off the coast. Surely no one on such an isolated spot would ever hear from the disgruntled suitor. They sailed out there and, to their happy surprise, they found a large stone house that had been abandoned for some time but was still in very good shape. It more than suited their needs and, in no time, they had it fixed up and all of their stuff moved in. With a fire going to ward off the evening chill, it was practically homey already.
This new life suited the little family. At first, anyway. Some time went by and then the father began to have visions. “It’s the strangest thing – I swear I saw a little man wandering around our home this morning, but of course that’s ridiculous. There’s only us on this island.” Arouk kept her face carefully neutral and continued cutting up seal meat for the evening meal without comment. But the next morning, it happened again. This time, he saw the little man reaching up towards Arouk’s lamp to warm his tiny hands by its flame. By the time the old man climbed down from his sleeping platform to head over and check, no one was there. He poked his head into Arouk’s room. “I swear I just saw that little man again, standing right here just a minute ago.”
With a heavy sigh, Arouk stood. “Okay dad, I guess there’s something I should tell you. You’re not hallucinating – the guy you keep seeing is real. I met an atliarusek (a tiny man, similar to a gnome, who live among the rocks of the seashore) here on the island. We fell in love and got married, but I was afraid you would be angry so I have been asking him not to hang around the house very much.” Her father mulled this news over. He didn’t much like the thought of some inhuman creature with his beloved daughter but, on the other hand, this neatly solved the problem of charming cads trying to woo her all the damn time. “It would be a shame not to have your husband around the home. I’m okay with this. Tell him to come and live with us, Arouk.”
Surprised but gratified, she hurried to do so. The next morning, Arouk’s father awoke to find the atliarusek sitting on the sleeping platform beside her. He seemed to be a very kind, charming soul, even if he was very tiny, so the old man was pleased with his new son-in-law. Things only got better that evening, when the little man came home with a stack of freshly killed seals. Arouk took a few of them from him with a pleased smile then turned to her father. “My husband has brought us meat, but now he has to take the rest to his relatives. It’s a long journey, so we won’t see him around for a while.”
Sure enough, her father didn’t see his diminutive son-in-law for some time. But then, very early one morning like any other, he awoke to see the atliarusek lying beside Arouk on her sleeping platform again, both of them sound asleep. Smiling contentedly, the old man lay back down beneath his caribou fur blanket and went back to sleep. For many months, their days passed like this. Arouk’s husband would sleep beside jher and sit with her in the morning, but the stout little guy always vanished before the family got up for the day. He wasn’t hiding or anything, he just had a strong work ethic and would head out early to get his chores done.
One day, Arouk’s father was surprised to see the atliarusek hanging around the house at breakfast, not having vanished as usual. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have you eat with us for once but aren’t you usually gone by now? Is everything okay?” “Yeah, dad, everything’s fine. I’m resting up today. Tomorrow, I’m heading to the mainland to visit my people, which is an exhausting trip.” “Tomorrow, eh? You know, we’d love to meet your family. How about we go with you to the mainland?” The husky creature shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’s a long, difficult trip. I have to travel a long ways up one of the fjords, a trip that takes many days each way.” At that, Arouk paused in her mending of a caribou-skin anorak (a heavy jacket) for her father. “Husband mine, I too would like to go with you to see your family. We are a hale and hearty people, so let’s do it. We’ll all head to the mainland tomorrow.”
He still wasn’t entirely sanguine about it, but the atliarusek loved his wife and didn’t like denying her something that was so clearly important to her. After a little more protesting, he agreed to the group excursion. He would travel by kayak and the family would follow along in their umiak. They set out early the next morning and it became a challenge right away. The family had to row very hard to keep up with the tiny husband’s equally tiny kayak as it skimmed expertly across the waves. He was clearly at home on the water in a way that mere humans simply are not. He is a supernatural creature, after all.
They stopped to rest and camp that night. As they were setting up their tent, a large group of tiny kayaks all carrying their own atliaruseks joined them on the shore. Each day thereafter, they would spend the day putting all their effort into keeping up and then be joined by a growing collection of atliarusek kayaks each night. One afternoon, Arouk’s husband pulled up beside his in-laws’ umiak as they were traveling. “This is the bit where it gets tricky. We’re going to disappear so that the people on land do not see us. We’re going to bring you with us, but it’s going to be unpleasant since you’re not used to it. Stay close enough to see the wakes of our boats and follow along. Be very careful to keep up.” The atliarusek gestured ahead where, one by one, the assembled kayaks were vanishing beneath the ocean’s surface.
At that, the old man turned to his daughter with naked fear on his face. “Okay, I’m beginning to think I fucked up. This one’s on coach. Maybe we should have listened to your atliarusek husband’s warning and not come along on this journey.” Of course, it was far too late for regret now, so there was nothing for it but to ride it out. Before anyone could respond, their umiak dipped down, sliding cleanly beneath the water. They traveled that way for an unknowable distance and resurfaced in a completely different spot far beyond where anyone on the shore could have seen them. If anyone was watching, the group had just vanished.
The worst seemed to be over, so the family paddled on, their umiak following in the wake of the many kayaks up a narrow fjord. When the convoy finally stopped, they had to tie up their boats to large boulders sticking out of the water beneath a steep cliff. From below, one could spot the natural steps worn into the rock, making it easier for the atliaruseks (and now the human family as well) to climb up from this makeshift dock. It was far from easy going even so. The steps were large and uneven, forcing the small supernatural ones to reach up over their heads and pull themselves up onto each individual step. It was slow, laborious going and was only a little easier for the larger humans to follow after.
Arouk and her parents followed the convoy up the cliff and then far inland until they came to the Valley of the Caribou. You can probably guess why it’s called that. If you guessed because at least a thousand caribou lived in the valley, feeding on the clumps of tough grass and stubby willow trees growing where the snow had melted, then you’re a good guesser. “Here’s where we’ll be staying for this trip. You can set up your tent wherever you like for the summer. Tomorrow, we’ll go hunting together.” And so they did.
The little family got to know their atliarusek extended family while they hunted together, ate together, and relaxed at night together. They also filled their umiak with meat and furs to take home with them at the end of the season. Everyone had a grand time, more than making up for the harrowing undersea journey to get here. When it was eventually time to leave, they bade their new friends goodbye and set out on their heavily laden umiak. It was still a long trek down the fjord and back to the sea but, with all this meat, they wouldn’t go hungry even if the seal stayed away the following winter. It was very nice to have such a healthy stockpile going into the bitterly cold season.
The trip back was uneventful and the family unloaded their haul into their stone house. Not long after they had settled back in, a hunter from their old village came to visit. It had taken time but their old peers had finally figured out where they had all vanished to so abruptly. Arouk’s family was happy to see a familiar face but also trepidatious that the old man’s impulsive violence was about to catch up to them. It turned out to be nothing of the sort. “Hey old friends, you’re looking well. The fishing here at your new digs must be better than at our village. Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s real fucking bad actually. Full on famine. We’re all starving. I was hoping you might still have some goodwill for your old neighbors and help us out.”
The old man grew grim and silent as he heard the terrible news. His heart ached to hear of such hardship falling on good people. He knew that his family had enjoyed an especially prosperous summer, so the only proper thing was of course to share. He promptly loaded up his umiak with a large portion of meat and hides and journeyed back to his old village. I presume that they let the messenger stay with them a while to eat his fill and rest up.
When he pulled in to shore with his loaded up boat, the villagers came out to see who had come with such abundance. The men saw Arouk’s father and, having heard the scorned suitor’s story with no one there to provide any kind of explanation, they thought the worst of the fled family. To be fair, the worst isn’t far off from the truth. The young man himself stepped forward, electing himself the village spokesman. “So you crawled back here with your meat and furs to try to bribe us into forgetting what you did? Fat fucking chance, asshole. You really expect us to believe you acquired all of that by yourself? Bullshit. You refused to let your daughter marry anyone in the village, thinking yourself too high and mighty for the lowly likes of us. No one would have helped you hunt all of that, so you clearly must have stolen it from somewhere.”
The old man swallowed his anger. It wasn’t fair but he also knew that he had earned some measure of their ire by throwing that rock at the young man, nearly braining him to death, and then fleeing like a thief in the night. Silently, he unloaded the meat and fur from his umiak, distributed it through the village, and then climbed back on board to paddle home. It wasn’t long after the old man returned to their island that Arouk’s atliarusek husband returned from his family gathering in the Valley of the Caribou. He could sense the heavy mood of the house as he entered and soon coaxed the whole story out of his father-in-law.
After listening to the tale of these ungrateful friends and former neighbors, the atliarusek considered for a moment. “You should invite them out to our island. We can show them our prosperity and hospitality firsthand. Kill them with kindness, as it were.” The old man saw the wisdom in this advice and agreed. The next day, he returned to his old village to extend the invitation to come out for a feast. People may have had their misgivings about the character of the overprotective old man, but hunger had a way of overriding those objections. Soon enough, a long line of kayaks streamed out from the mainland to the island, many carrying Arouk’s old suitors (who were still a bit bitter about their harsh treatment by her father).
Arouk and her family greeted everyone warmly and invited them in by name. They had spent the day preparing vast amounts of caribou meat and seal blubber for dinner. After everyone had eaten better than they had in a long time, the old man stood up to speak to his assembled guests. “I presume that you all remember how, not that long ago, many of you sought to make my daughter your wife. I also presume that you remember equally vividly how my family and I had to flee our home in the village because one of your number was too insistent about wooing Arouk. He would not take no for an answer, deciding that it was his right to intrude against our wishes and got very aggressive. I tried to push him away, but he didn’t take that hint either and escalated the violence. I threw a rock at him because I feared that he might kill us, but I never meant to do more than discourage him.
“As we fled this dishonor, that same brash young suitor prophesied that my daughter would never find a clever man to be her husband. As luck would have it, she found someone better – this charming, diligent, and kind young atliarusek who has become part of our family. He’s also one hell of a hunter.” The old man gestured warmly to his son-in-law. The others in the village hadn’t heard this part of the story. Surprise surprise, the brash young man hadn’t said anything about his cruel words since they would make him look bad. They hung their heads in shame.
The old man wasn’t done yet. “What’s more, he also swore that no one in the village would lift a finger to aid us if we were starving. He vowed that we would be left entirely on our own, assuming that we would be unable to survive without the village. As you can see, we’ve found a new community to join with and are thriving.” The assembled villagers tried to hang their heads even lower in shame, especially the suitor who had made the threat. Hearing his own words thrown back at him so calmly, especially by someone who had just opened his home to them, made him reflect on just how much of an asshole he’d been.
“A father has an instinct about who is a good match for his daughter. I refused each of your advances because none of you were the right man. That isn’t meant as an insult – you’re perfectly good men and will make good husbands for someone else, just not for Arouk. I didn’t know it then, but we were waiting for her to meet my new son-in-law, the atliarusek. Look around now and tell me that I didn’t make the right decision.” His expression softened and his voice grew gentler. “But clearly we’re not here to hold that against you. You acted rashly, but that’s no reason to let friends and neighbors suffer. Eat as much as you like. You’re welcome here.”
As a bit of context, it was common in Inuit culture for villages to gather together on the shore in places where seal, whale, fish, and other sea life were plentiful. During the summers, the men would go inland to follow the caribou herds and hunt meat for the lean winters. Villagers – many of whom were related by blood or marriage – would often share meat and pelts amongst themselves, sharing from those who had much with those who had less. When famines came, this communal mindset was crucial for the survival of the entire village. This story is meant as a reminder of how critical it is to be generous with your wealth, even with those who might have wronged you. The village is only as strong as the bonds of community that hold it together, and Arouk’s family share their hard-won caribou meat with the village that exiled them not once, but twice. They also acknowledge that some of the blame is theirs and so extend forgiveness to those around them along with the meat. This is a reminder that when things get bad (and they’re bad and getting worse right now), the bonds of local community are more important than ever. And so, with the village once more a welcoming place, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s goddess is Sedna.
In a lot of Inuit cultures, Sedna (or some variation thereof) is the goddess of the sea and its aquatic inhabitants. Known by a number of different names including Arnakuagsak or Nuliajuk, she also has a number of titles such as Mistress of the Sea, Mother of the Deep, and Big Bad Woman. In many traditions, she is the ruler of Adlivun, the icy underworld that lies beneath the bottom of the sea. It is a frozen wasteland where departed souls purify themselves in preparation for their journey to Quidlivun, the Land of the Moon, where they find their eternal peace. As is often the case, with so many different versions of her amongst different but related peoples, there are also a number of different stories associated with her, often similar but not the same. I’ll start with the version given in Evelyn Wolfson’s book.
Long and long ago, a young girl named Sedna dwelt with her widowed father in a small sealskin tent on the coast (in this version, she lived on Baffin Island – the largest in Canada). Sedna was beautiful, smart, independent, and head-strong and so she wanted a husband who was strong enough to match her. She didn’t intend to diminish herself to make a man feel better about himself (and good for her for knowing her worth). Alas, none of the men in the area were up to the task. All of the suitors who sought Sedna’s hand were turned away as wanting. Luckily, Sedna’s father Kinuk didn’t relish the thought of losing her, so he was happy to let her be as particular as she felt necessary.
One day, a long, sleek-looking kayak pulled up to the shores of Baffin Island carrying an especially handsome young man. Sedna watched him land through the gap of the tent flap. His face was beautiful but his attire was strange. “Father, do you recognize the style of his clothing? I’ve never seen such striking, beautiful black and white stripes on an anorak before.” Old Kinuk shook his head. “I do not, daughter. It is most unusual, as is his spear. Look at it – I think it’s carved from solid ivory.” Both were incredibly curious about the visiting stranger, but they were also cautious, so they remained safely tucked away inside their tent.
The handsome stranger sat up straight in his kayak, looking up towards the tent (a respectful move compared to what we saw in the main tale). “Sedna, are you home? Come out and speak with me, if you please. I seek your hand and I promise that you will never be hungry with me. You will live in a tent made of the finest, most beautiful skins and sleep each night on the softest bearskin rugs. Your lamp will always be filled with oil and your pot will always overflow with meat.” It was a very strong and appealing proposal, so Sedna poked her head out of the flap for a better look. He was even more dreamy when not being spied on through a small slit in a caribou hide but Sedna was very aware of her reputation in the village. It simply wouldn’t do for her to rush out to greet this stranger, all giggles and doe eyes. She had to make a show of being choosy, so she forced herself back inside the tent to sit and wait. Never accept the first offer.
The young man was not deterred. He climbed out of his kayak and, using the tip of his ivory spear, drew a picture in the sand. He sketched out a beautiful landscape, all rolling hills with lots of fat, contented animals and large, comfortable-looking houses. “This is the land that I will take you to if you come with me as my wife, Sedna. I have many furs to give you as a gift, and many ivory necklaces to place around your lovely throat as well.” By Inuit customs, this was the absolute peak of romance and Sedna was feeling a little weak in the knees. Stepping slowly out of the tent, she faced her suitor, shyly avoiding his gaze. “Am I the only young woman in the territory without a husband? Are there no other women for you to pursue instead of one who has no need of a husband?”
The young man smiled, keenly aware of the courting dance they were engaged in now. “There are many women who would be glad to marry a rich man such as myself. For me though, there is only you, Sedna.” His honeyed words sealed the deal. She had been wooed by many handsome men, but never by one with poetry dripping from his tongue like this. She headed back inside the tent to pack her small sealskin bag with her best needles and some other essentials, then walked slowly down to the beach to meet the man who had won her heart. Kinuk watched them go with a fond sadness. He hated to see his beloved daughter go but he couldn’t imagine a better match for her than this incredible stranger. The old man smiled and waved goodbye to them both.
Of course, this is a myth and not a romance story, so you know that things can’t simply go smoothly for Sedna. He lifted her into his kayak with a smile and they set out for the open ocean. They traveled the rest of the day and, that night, they pulled up onto a rocky beach beneath the promised rolling hills. That was the only part of the young man’s promises that were real – there were no fat animals and no comfortable houses, only empty hills and countless loons (an aquatic bird).
Unsure just what was happening, Sedna stepped hesitantly out of the kayak. She turned around to ask her handsome new husband just where exactly this beautiful home he had promised her was. Only, her husband wasn’t there anymore. Standing in his place was an enormous loon, regal and elegant with black feathers on his back and white on his breast. “Oh fuck. I’ve run away with the spirit bird!” For context, in Inuit tradition, all creatures have a spirit, not just humans. Thus there was relatively little difference functionally between killing an animal and killing a human – after death, their spirit was free to seek revenge unless placated by the proper customs, rituals and taboos.
The bird cocked its head at Sedna. “I am sorry for the deception, wife. I have watched you from on high as I soared on the winds and I fell in love with you. I used my powers to transform into a human to carry you away with me since I knew that you would never marry me and come away to my home otherwise.” Which isn’t great, but you can’t exactly expect a spirit bird to abide by human morals or customs. Sedna burst into terrified tears at this confirmation of her worst fears. She couldn’t imagine living out the rest of her days amongst a flock of noisy, filthy birds who waddled around on their webbed feet and shit on every available surface. She begged the loon to take her back home and forget about marrying her. “Please if you truly care for me at all, take me back! I will give you all of my best sewing needles if you just take me home. I’ll give you anything I own – anything!” Her bird husband ignored her pleas and busied himself instead with fluffing the nest he had built out of loose plants.
Days passed this way. Sedna begged her husband to take her home and let her go and he ignored her. He brought her plenty of fish to eat, so she wasn’t hungry but she was still utterly miserable. When she didn’t come back to visit and tell tales of her new home, Kinuk began to worry about his daughter. He knew only the rough direction they had set out in, so he headed the same way, checking every island one by one. On none of them did he find any sign of his vanished daughter. At last, after many days of travel, Kinuk finally spotted the unique kayak pulled up on a distant rocky shore. Excited, he paddled over as fast as he could but the closer he got the more puzzled he became. There was no sign of human habitation and certainly none of the large houses the young man had promised Sedna. In fact, all he could see on the island at all were hundreds and hundreds of loons.
Climbing out of his kayak, Kinuk walked up the beach calling his daughter’s name. Only the cry of the loon answered him. He walked further until, in the distance, he saw his daughter sitting on a loon’s nest and sobbing uncontrollably. Asking her what had gone wrong could wait until later. For now, Kinuk focused on wrapping Sedna into a comforting hug and leading her down to his kayak. “Don’t worry, my child. I’ll take you back home with me. You’re safe now.”
When the spirit loon returned from his daily fishing that night, he was concerned to find his wife nowhere around. That wasn’t like her. He turned to the other birds swarming on the beach. “Where has my lovely human wife gone?” “Her father came and took her away,” they replied in a raucous chorus. Enraged, the loon-husband turned back into his human form, jumped into his own kayak, and paddled out in pursuit. It probably would have been faster for him to fly but I don’t think his webbed feet could have carried her back with him, so he needed the kayak.
They had a head start but the transformed young man was stronger and faster. It wasn’t long before Kinuk spied his kayak on the horizon. He urged Sedna to hide, slipping down into the bottom of the kayak beneath a pile of furs. It wasn’t much longer after that when the loon caught up to the fleeing humans. “Where is my wife? I demand to see her!” Kinuk ignored him, paddling on without missing a beat. This disrespect enraged the loon. Whirling his paddle through the air in a tight arc, he slapped the water in vicious strokes on one side of his boat and then the other. The water sprayed violently about him, obscuring his form as he transformed back into his enormous loon shape. With a great beat of his wings, the spirit loon took to the skies above Kinuk and the hidden Sedna.
As he did so, the cloud of sea spray he had raised with his furious paddle strokes grew into towering thunderheads, dark with the promise of violence. Thunder rang out in a deafening peal, rattling the very waves. The previously smooth ocean began to writhe as the waves grew rougher under the storm winds. Kinak’s little kayak was tossed by the stormy sea, already in danger of being swamped and dooming both its inhabitants to a watery death. The old man was terrified. He had attempted to defy a spirit and now he was paying the price. He truly wanted to save his daughter but now he realized that he simply couldn’t. The spirit loon demanded his daughter’s life and if he didn’t offer it up, both of them would die. The only way to calm the raging storm was to dump Sedna overboard into the wild ocean.
His daughter cowered beneath the furs, uncertain what was happening but knowing that she was in danger. It caught her by complete surprise when her father scooped her up in his strong arms and then dumped her unceremoniously into the frigid waves. Fighting her way free of the entangling furs, Sedna kicked for the surface and came out of the water next to Kinak’s kayak. With the desperation of someone who was literally clawing at their only lifeline, she reached out and grabbed hold of the kayak, clinging to the gunwales. Kinak looked down at his beloved daughter with pity and icy determination in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sedna, but it’s either you or both of us. The spirit loon has raised the very sea against us. If I don’t sacrifice you to him, he’ll kill us both.” Not wanting to hear her plead for her life, Kinak reached for his knife and hacked off Sedna’s half-frozen fingers. Unable to hold on with her butchered hands, Sedna fell into the bloody froth and sank into the frigid water.
Kinak grieved her loss the whole way back to his village, but the storm did indeed die away and allow him to go. He finally reached his own shore and stumbled out of his kayak. Laying down in the thick pile of caribou hides that he and his daughter had shared for so many years, he curled up and wept bitter tears of regret. As if summoned by his aching sobs, another storm rose up that night. Towering waves crashed against the beach, each one reaching farther up the shore than the last. Finally, one truly enormous wave swamped the beach and then retreated to the ocean. The storm passed afterwards and silence fell on the empty landscape. The tent and a sleeping Kinak with it were gone, dragged into the ocean that he had consigned his daughter to.
Beneath the chilly waves, Sedna glared at her father with her one hollow eye – the other had been lost in the violence of the storm. Kinak drifted out of his tent to see her floating above him and recognized the thick black braids that hung down to his daughter’s waist. It was the only part of her he recognized: the youthful beauty he had known was gone, replaced with the immortal visage of the sea spirit goddess. The severed joints of Sedna’s fingers became the great sea animals that the Inuit hunted thereafter. The smallest joints were seals; the second were the great whales, and the third were the walruses. When Sedna was pleased with the people, these animals were plentiful, ensuring that no one went hungry. When she was angry, she spirited them away and only careful rituals could convince her to release them again.
Ever since then, Sedna has reigned over her underwater kingdom (as well as the icy underworld even deeper beneath), protecting the animals that sprang from her own severed flesh. The souls of the dead come through her realm, including that of the father that betrayed and abandoned her in her most desperate hour. In some versions, the animals actually get tangled up in her long, flowing locks. She needs to be summoned to the surface so that they can be freed from her hair since, having no fingers, she can’t comb them out herself. In some stories, she has a fish tail like an arctic mermaid. In others, her father cut off not just her fingers but her hands or even her forearms.
Sometimes she was born of the god Anguta and the goddess Isarrataisoq. In that version, she once again rejected all human suitors only to be won over by a magical dog, giving birth to freakish half-canine offspring that were said to be the white people and the southern indigenous tribes that the Inuit were often at war with. She also became a cannibal in this story, devouring her mother’s arms and one of her father’s before he was finally able to subdue her and drag her out to sea in his canoe. It’s a much darker interpretation of Sedna, one that leans into the taboo of cannibalism that could be a very real concern when the winters were especially cold and the food especially scarce. After having her fingers cut off and sinking into the sea, they transformed into flippers which she used to summon a tidal wave and wash her dis-armed parents into the sea to serve her in her underworld kingdom of Adlivun.
Like I mentioned earlier, since the animals were believed to have spirits that were essentially identical to human ones, they also went to the same underworld to undergo the same reincarnation process at Sedna’s fingerless hands. They all pass through her home, built of whalebone and decorated with the clothing of people who have drowned at sea and furnished with the flotsam and jetsam of sunken ships as well as woven from the bones of the dead. Her father Anguta oversees punishment of souls for the taboos violated in life, cleansing them until they are ready to ascend to the kingdom of the moon, Udlormiut. Sedna is said to have married the giant sea-scorpion god Kanajuk. The great god Sila uses Sedna to enforce taboos in life by having a new filthy knot or tangle appear in her hair each time one is violated by an Inuit. When she can no longer stand it, she rounds up all the sea game, causing a scarcity for the Inuit (or, as mentioned previously, the game just gradually gets caught in the knots that appear). Only a shaman using the proper rituals to ascend to Adlivun in their astral form can comb the knots from her hair and appease her, freeing the game.
I mentioned North of North in the intro, and in the first episode (not a spoiler) the Nuliajuk version of the goddess makes a brief appearance in the story, which is what inspired this episode. It’s a really incredible visual that does a great job of bringing this interesting goddess to life. So if you find yourself in the waters of the Arctic for some reason, keep an eye out for a fingerless mermaid with sea life trapped in her long hair. Of course, if you do see her, you may already be dead but you can always try appeasing her and see what happens.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Instagram as MythsYourTeacherHatedPod, on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated, on Bluesky as MythsPodcast, and on Mastodon as MythsYourTeacherHated. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, we’ll head to the southern end of Turtle Island for two tales of the Cherokee. You’ll learn that the thunder is kind of a fuck boy, that cheaters never prosper (at least when demigods get involved), and that you should always have an escape route. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a deadly ogress with a terrifying natural weapon prefers her human livers without chianti or fava beans. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.