Tag Archives: A Dream in Polar Fog

Symbolic versus Literal: Stone Grave, Stone Demeanor in “A Dream in Polar Fog”

An interesting observation I made this week near the end of Chapter 30 of “A Dream in Polar Fog” by Yuri Rytkheu, occurs shortly after a ship hits the shoreline and John’s mother Mary MacLennan arrives to bring John home. In this scene, John returns back to his late daughter’s grave amidst an ongoing back-and-forth where his mother Mary attempts to convince John to “go pack,” and “not stay” in Enmyn “for a moment longer” (30). While debating about his impending decision—to stay with his wife Pyl’mau and his children, or to return to the shoreline of Lake Ontario— John makes the visit to Tynevirineu-Mary MacLennan’s grave. This visit functions as a very symbolic conquest to the Far Cape right before John’s impending decision the following day, mostly because right after visiting his daughter’s tomb (which is expeceted to have been constructed with stone), John “seems to turn to stone” (30)!

There is little clarification by the narrator as to what exactly this phrase entails, but with all future conversations between himself and Mary MacLennan, John seems to be very mechanical in his delivery: “John nods wordlessly,” “’Yes,’ John quietly manages” (30). It is almost as if the connection between John’s mother and John’s daughter is materialized when John visits his daughter’s tomb. This materialization amounts in the form of John’s sad and stony one-word responses to his mother. I find it interesting to examine these scenes not only literally, but also figuratively with respect to certain images such as the tombstone that houses John’s daughter. Perhaps, a greater symbolic connection is at play here: not only between the John’s mother and John’s daughter (who both share the same name), but also between John’s daughter’s current state (within stone), John’s subsequent demeanor (turned to stone), and the delivery of future interactions with his own mother (stony and cold). Does anyone else find a similar interaction between symbolic and literal subjects within this piece? Please let me know what you think!

A Threat to the Status Quo

In its essence, A Dream in Polar Fog is a rejection of attempts to define a single dominant way of life as the ideal society. It introduces the idea that there are other equally, if not more legitimate, ways to live life than the hegemony of Western civilization. It takes John, a Western man, and immerses him in a culture alien to him, a culture with values antithetical to his own. And yet, he finds meaning in this way of life and ends up eschewing the status quo of his former home. This idea, that there are other successful cultures and societies is exceptionally dangerous to the legitimacy of Western governments. If people realized that there were legitimate alternatives, perhaps there would be a revolution or at least a radical change in those societies.

Two specific examples of this occur in the final pages of the novel. First is the news of the Russian Revolution and the reign of the Bolsheviks reaching John’s ears. Carpenter is the one to inform John of the change, and when he asks John why he doesn’t leave after the Bolshevik’s have taken power, John responds that he is comforted by the fact that all of the people in Chukotka have forgotten that he doesn’t have hands and is crippled: “I feel like a full-fledged, valuable person. Valuable to my family, to my friends, to the little community that peoples Enmyn. Here, I’m a human being – do you understand? – a human being! I have no fear of the Bolshevik’s coming. Naturally, I find their doctrine alarming, their denial of any kind of personal property. But, just think Mr. Carpenter, what property do I have? And meanwhile, those among whom we live are, with rare exception, a trusting folk.” Here John is saying that even though the Chukchi way of life could be described as primitive compared to Western society, they have actually progressed past a lot the ailments that plague the more ‘advanced’ society. The themes of trust, acceptance, and human brotherhood can be found in John’s description of his community. And this is why Carpenter wants John to leave so badly. It is because John, a white man, living happily in a settlement like the one in which he does, is a crack in the foundation of Western ideals. If him living a content life means that the Western way of living can have legitimate alternatives, Carpenter’s life (and the system by which he has made himself wealthy) is delegitimized. This conflict between the two characters is an interesting parallel to the formation of the Soviet Union happening around them, as the Soviet Union was the first true superpower in the twentieth century to challenge the top-down, capitalist power structures of the world.

This interaction is similar to John’s final interaction with his mother. As she leaves, saying goodbye to him for the final time, and after seeing him fully immerse himself in the Chukchi life, she says, heartbreakingly: “Oh, John! My boy! It would have been easier for me see you dead than like this!” This extreme statement shows exactly how much John’s mother’s reality hinges on her idea of supremacy over the ‘savages’. Her whole society hinges on the supremacy of whiteness, and her status as a wealthy landowner in Canada hinges on values of greed and competition that would be alien to the Chukchi. And, so desperate to keep her place in that society, she would rather see her son dead, than see him live a life that threatens the status quo.

An Emerging Leader?

One aspect that struck me while reading the last section of “A Dream in Polar Fog” is the great extent to which John integrates into the Chukchi community. Even more importantly than just integrating into the community, he becomes a leader of the people and also serves as their representative, especially when dealing with white people. By the end of the story, John promotes the interests and image of the Chukchi by ensuring that outsiders understand that “the people of the North… can be not only loyal and obedient guides, but also true heroes” (255). He aims to dispel the western notion of the Chukchi as savages by making it clear to outsiders, that the people should be respected for their understanding of the land and for living in unforgiving conditions. By taking pride in the Chukchi way of life, John make others (and the reader in particular) understand the Chukchi cultural tradition and how they thrive through what some would consider a primitive lifestyle.

As the story progresses, John takes on a greater role in the Chukchi community. While he initially completely depends on others’ help, he learns to provide for the tribe and subsequently plays a central role in their survival through his help on animal hunts. He also becomes a leader for the tribe through his further dealings with the white man. Upon John’s encounter with Captain Bartlett and discussion of national land ownership, the other Chukchi find it “strange… to see their own fellow-countryman Sson as someone in a position to discuss this unknown but evidently important business” (279). This marks a major change in John’s relationship with the tribe, as he now bears responsibility as a representative of the tribe’s interests. In the same scene with Captain Bartlett, John also requests the captain “not to use [his] engines,…make too much noise,… or shoot,” as this “frightens off the animals, [leaving us] without food or fuel” (280). The Captain respects John’s request, which underscores how John has the authority to defend the interests of the Chukchi. While John being a white man may have a role to play in the respect that Captain Bartlett gives him, John’s ardent support of the Chukchi interests nonetheless supports his emerged role as a leader for the tribe.

While John appears to have respect from the outside, one question I had at the end of the story is whether the Chukchi people consider him a leader. What intrigues me is how Orvo has few reservations about having John leave (and in fact encourages it), despite John becoming a key part of the community. I am eager to hear what others think about Orvo and John’s relationship and what role that plays at the story’s end.

Olenin vs. John

Comparing The Cossacks and A Dream in Polar Fog – this last section of Rytkheu’s A Dream in Polar Fog reminded me of Tolstoy’s The Cossacks in a couple of ways, but I will discuss two here. First is the way in which two different social classes think about themselves and “the other”. In The Cossacks, Olenin and his aristocratic fellows of Moscow are divided both physically and socioeconomically from the people of the Caucasus. Olenin, of course, has his own preconceived notions of the Cossack people, but nonetheless claims to go on this journey with an open mind and lofty goals for self-improvement. At the start of Chapter 21, John says, “The thing that divides us from one another is stereotypes about others and wrong ideas about ourselves… I think that the biggest mistake might be this: Each nation thinks that it’s the only one that lives in the right way… In itself, the idea is harmless. It even helps keep order in a society. But when a nation tries to change another’s way of life forcibly, that’s when things go wrong” (Rytkheu 222). I believe this to be true in the majority of cultures and societies, but do not feel this overlaps with how Olenin feels about the Cossack society. As the story goes on, we see Olenin purge himself of the wealthy values he’s adopted through high society Moscow in an attempt to integrate himself into this new village lifestyle he desires. He finds the simplistic lifestyles and values of the Cossack people beautiful and in this sense, does not appear to believe his aristocratic life is any better than that of the Cossack people. In fact, Olenin is sickened by the life he once led.

Second, the personification of nature appears in A Dream in Polar Fog as it does in The Cossacks. Also, in this same chapter, Orvo says, “…man starts to believe that he is the strongest and the smartest, and that he is the only master of the earth. And this is how it goes, for a time. But then, nature, Narginen, the Outer Forces, take away all the extraneous things… This is the kind of storm the Outer Forces use to clear away all that can lift man about them… It’s as though Narginen is reminding us: I’m master here, and it’s only on my sufferance that man lives here at all…” (Rytkheu 230). At the bottom of page 229, it is noted that *Narginen is defined as “the external forces that guide all life”. In The Cossacks, Olenin states, “Perhaps in her I love nature, the personification of all that is beautiful in nature; But I do not have a will of my own, and what loves her is some elemental force passing through me all of God’s world, all of nature presses this love into my soul and says: “Love” (Tolstoy 148). Olenin’s quote here shows that nature is stronger than him and therefore has control over him and his love for Maryanka. In this instance, the Narginen Orvo references, to me, seems relatable to the elemental forces Olenin mentions.

 

The Parable of the White Woman a Parable of Colonization

The cultural tensions are incredibly high in A Dream of Polar Fog, for as our protagonist John becomes more and more accepting and immersed in the local culture around him, we are reminded that other Westerns with the damaging biases John first had remain. In the parable of the White Woman, Toko presents a story about killing your brother that can be read as an allegory towards the white men’s mistreatment of native populations and the white men’s inability to see the native populations as their fellow brothers.

The text asks for a parabolic reading. Right before telling the story John is surprised but catches himself, “Stunned, John was about to inform Toko it was nonsense, but then the absurdities of the Bible came to mind…” (104) This is a great moment of John stepping into the shoes of the native people and realizing their possible viewpoint of the white man’s culture. Through inhabiting another cultural viewpoint, John is able to see the similarities between the two culture and, instead of dismissing the other culture for being different, appreciate and learn from people unlike him. Because John is viewing the culture through his Christian lens, the text is asking us to also view the story of the White Woman through that similar lens which renders the story near a biblical parable.

The parable of the White Woman shows a man, out of greed, killing his whale brother who is different than him. This parable teaches the lesson of not killing your fellow kind even if they do not look like you or do not know them. It preaches a common connection between species regardless of greed or possible gain.

Keeping in mind the context of the Canadians and the native Arctic people, this story begins to show the terribleness of the mistreatment of fellow human beings. Just as the whales are the brothers of the Arctic people and should not be harmed or exploited, so are the seemingly different humans who have different languages and customs. The parable of the White Woman reminds to treat fellow humans kindly regardless of difference.

If I had more space, I would do further close readings on the great and dense parable.

 

Edit: Okay I finished more of the reading and have to add on, sorry for the length.

Of course Johns writing corroborates what is listed above, in that eh also feels that this parable like story is one that applies to humanity wider, and more specifically to race relations between the people.  Something that I am confused about is John’s specific species within this parable? A striking line within this section is when John’s sin is described to be equal of that of native people: “Within a few days, all of John’s exposed flesh became so tanned that in color it was hardly different from Toko’s skin” (92). It seems that John can oscillate between his two identities, in some instances he acts as the whale, and in others the human. I wonder how this mixed identity will play out, and what the further come of this in relations to both the natives and the white men. More so, I’m curious what other people think of the stakes and problems of Johns exploitations but also adoptions of this culture? Thoughts?

On Cultural Assimilation

I think after reading The Cossacks, a question on many of our minds (or mine, at least) is how can someone assimilate into another culture? Maybe not a step-by-step process, but is it possible to completely adopt customs and ways of life former alien to you? A Dream in Polar Fog certainly addresses these questions and presents a view quite different from the one presented by Tolstoy. I’d like to explore this idea more, while keeping in mind that just by reading someone else’s words, I am bringing my own biases and former understandings to this discussion, which is just something I think is worthy of being aware of.

To start, after this portion of reading, it appears that for all intents and purposes, John has assimilated into the Chukchi community: he marries a Chukchi woman (both in his conceptualization of marriage and in the Chukchi understanding), he hunts with the other Chukchi men, he shares his gifts and supplies with the other members of the community (unprompted and even unexpectedly), and even supports the ideas of communal living and common good to a further extent than Armol’ in the case of purchasing a whale boat individually versus as a collective. Recognizing these facts of how John acts does not place a moral judgement on them. It is not objectively “good” or “bad” that he adopts values and behaviors of another group of people. But it is a marked change in how John thinks and acts that should be acknowledged for his personal adaptation, and growth in understanding and ability to learn new things. I am personally impressed and would judge his change and rationale for that change as overall “good” (in simplest terms). He makes informed, rational decisions, “Stay here forever?…These people had been so good to him, and had shown the kind of magnanimity he would not have expected in the world he came from” which stem from a choice to realign his values with those of a community to whom he owes a debt of gratitude and his life in many ways (129).

But I especially appreciate Rytkheu’s manners and methods of highlighting the complexity of ideas of inclusion, assimilation and what it means to “belong.” Orvo, in particular, provides a counter-opinion to (primarily Armol’s and even John’s) doubts about the efficacy of cultural conversion. Instead of calling the other person’s views wrong, Orvo questions them, “[if we drive John off] what about Pyl’mau?…What danger is there in a cripple? You’re not afraid of him, are you?” (161). In so doing, he and so Rytkheu, question the premises for these gut reactions of “white people are bad for the natives, they ruin everything they touch, they will cause the native’s demise and never truly be able to understand them.” (Also see Orvo’s thoughts on page 139—very interesting.) Ply’mau also voices doubts about John’s assimilation, “You’re a white man, and you need these things more” (159) but also acts as John’s foil in accepting John, his way of life, and teaching him Chukchi ways (as opposed to John accepting her way of life) in mixed actions from washing her face (page 131) to questioning how their daughter could possibly not be ‘real’, “As you see, this baby is real enough, and I’m sure that Tynevirineu-Mary will fly” (211).

This reflection only touches on a variety of events/themes that could be explored much more in depth (the significance of Tynevirineu-Mary, especially her name, how Rytkheu may or may not present his own opinion in Orvo’s point of view, Armol’s jealousy and what that means, Ply’mau’s role her own questioning of cultural assumptions), but I was very interested in how it all works together, and especially the idea of judgement (having just read a multitude of The Orient opinion articles in response to “I am Brett Kavanaugh”). There are also a lot of other ideas I had, from comparing Mr. Carpenter to John (notable page 146-149) and views on religion, and questions of “who benefits” from these interactions. Anyway, looking forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts on these topics and others.

One question I had, that I would like to put out there before I forget, is on page 169, are they talking about children killing their parents because the parents are no longer self-sufficient and so are a drain on resources? Or am I misreading this?

Imagery of Fire, Imagery of Ice: Rytkheu’s Portrayal of John’s Crew versus the Chukchi People

This week’s reading of Yuri Rytkheu’s A Dream in Polar Fog opens with a quick developing narrative about John MacLennan, a Canadian university dropout, and his near death boating accident in the Russian arctic sea off the coast of Chukotka. In order to develop the scene within the first few chapters, MacLennan utilizes imagery such as “blasts of icy wind” and “frosty air” that “surge” through the “ice strip,” a description of the ever-freezing waters that surround the boat (Rytkheu’s chap. 1,2). Rytkheu’s utilization of cold and unforgiving diction about climate and topography suggests that the coast of Chukotka is strong, frigid, and even isolating. As for the MacLennan and his fellow sailors, Rytkheu’s utilizes imagery of fire and warmth, which ultimately differentiates these Canadians from the region they newly inhabit. For example, beginning chapter two, Rytkheu describes crew-members “Hugh and John” as “on fire for explorers’ glory” (2). Then again after John’s accident, he is referenced as a body that “suffused with fire,” with a “hot stream pulsating in his wrists” (2). Rytkheu continues to reference John’s state of “fiery pain” for the duration of this chapter, which directly precedes John’s introduction to the three Chukchi that agree to bring him to Anadyr after learning of his physical state. Up to this point, Rytkheu’s utilization of hot and uncomfortable imagery distinguishes John and his crewmen from the frozen regions that surround them.

 

With all this said, I do find an interesting divergence in Rytkheu’s use of imagery in describing the Canadian crew versus the Russian environment. At the beginning of chapter three while Grover notifies the “three Chukchi” of their task: to “deliver John MacLennan to Anadyr’, wait there until he is recovered, and then bring him back here,” one of the Chukchi named Toko “looks over” at John and notices his “icy, cold eyes” (3). Rytkheu emphasizes this moment, harping on the fact that “Toko could feel John’s star pierce him through, giving rise to a strange chill in the pit of his stomach” (3). Note Rytkheu’s in-depth description of John’s frigid stare. John no longer represents a hot, fiery force; instead, he is now cold and somber in relation to those around him, giving off a chill that “not even the fiery run could chase away” (3). I find it very interesting that while there is a complete transition in John’s nature from warm to frigid, there also exists a reference to something “fiery,” but this time “fiery” describes the rum offered by The Chukchi. It is interesting to think of not only the purpose of this change in Rytkheu’s differentiation between John’s crew and the people Chukotka, but also the implications that this transition has on John’s placement in and among the Chukchi. Could this adoption of regional characteristics, i.e. ice-cold features, be a form of foreshadowing John’s budding relationship alongside his Chukchi acquaintances? Or perhaps that both peoples are on track to connect with each other more connectively as they set out to begin this month-long trek. I would love to hear your thoughts and comments!

“Melding” Reality and Distant Home

As John, Toko, Orvo, and Armol’ travel, John’s flashbacks to his home are especially interesting. Over the course of the trip, as John’s initial suspicion and mistrust of the Chukchi people slowly (emphasis on slowly!) fades down, his images of home continue to return to him. As he faces mortality, in somewhat of a delirium, he mixes images of his Canadian hometown into his present reality in Siberia.

In the first day of the expedition to Anadyr’, John sees “Orvo’s flat smiling face, incredibly similar to the stylized picture of an Eskimo in the National University Museum in Toronto” (32). This connection in his imagination speaks to the utter cultural disconnect in his perception of Orvo. His only previous exposure to these people had been through a token image in a museum. Clearly, seeing such a stylized image of the Eskimo while back in Toronto had no strong impact on John, since he has no sense of respect or even interest in any of the Chukchi people at the beginning of the expedition.

Then, as John sleeps the first night, he hones in on the “blazing fires of maple-leaf fall” of his last autumn as a child at home, playing with his family, “watching squirrels cavort in the branches overhead.” These warm images of home are familiar to our (as in the western readers in our class) conceptions of childhood. While the flashback may have been a very typical afternoon for John, in his current position, traveling in Siberia, he romanticizes the otherwise normal visions of home. This romanticization of home, and nostalgia for the simple past is a theme we have seen multiple times in past readings: Turgenev, as he wrote from abroad in his Notes of a Hunter, Pasternak, reflecting on the nostalgia of the country-side.

(I also wonder if these connected images of his distant home with his reality can be considered an example of estrangement. I’m curious to discuss the concept of estrangement more, to understand whether it applies in this case.)

However, John’s romanticization of home as he finds himself in an unfamiliar place and culture,  contrasts sharply with Olenin’s denunciation of home, while in the Caucasus. As we continue to read this novel, I want to think more about comparing Olenin and John. Of course, the context of the stories are very different. However, both characters find themselves in a completely different culture. I think that while Olenin enters his Caucasus excursion with good intentions, John enters his situation with little intent to respect the Chukchi. And yet, we see that (so far) both Olenin and John are able to gain some level of connection with the locals, yet maintain their difference as outsiders. By the time they are back in Enmyn, Orvo tells John, “we’ve grown fond of you, but you could not bear this life of ours.” I feel that this will be the case for any of the outsiders who enter a different culture, in the works we continue to read going forward.

 

Intellectual vs Practical Skills

Rytkheu’s A Dream in Polar Fog, provides an interesting perspective on the benefit of intellectual versus practical skills for exploration and survival. The main character, John, is initially described as an academic from Port Hope who indulges in stories about faraway seas (16-17). Clearly enamored with the thought of traveling and visiting distant lands, he embarks on a journey out of Nome. Once the ship gets stuck in the ice, however, it is revealed that the skills from his life at the university are not sufficient for him to manage in the rugged arctic landscape. Throughout the first ten chapters, John’s intellectual skills, such as reading and writing, prove themselves of little use compared to the practical skills of the native population.

John mishandling the dynamite at the beginning of the story reveals his lack of practical skills and intuition. He is described as “not thinking” as he bends over to grab the dynamite cartridge buried in the snow, when it detonates and severely injuries his hands (20). This lapse in judgment highlights his lack of experience doing challenging and dangerous physical work needed for such an expedition. While other crew members likely have experience using dynamite, John is given the responsibility despite his expertise not lying in arctic exploration. While his dreams of “seasoned mariners… [and] distant lands… undiscovered by civilized man” pique his interest in going on an expedition, his is utterly unprepared given his lack of practical skills (17).

Much like Olenin’s reaction when originally encountering the rugged landscape in The Cossacks, John has only read and dreamed about exotic people and places, which holds him back from understanding the native culture. This is clear from how John describes the native, Orvo, as “incredibly similar to the stylized picture of an Eskimo in the National University Museum in Toronto” (32). This oddly specific description of Orvo underscores John’s prior perceptions of the native culture as something exotic that he would only imagine encountering in a museum. His academic past creates a barrier between his constructed view of the Chukchi and the reality, as he does not have the skills necessary to go out and understand native tribes first hand. Though John eventually realizes that the Chukchi “way of life doesn’t require literacy or books,” he is slow to acknowledge the importance of practical skills like hunting and skinning, which complicates and impedes his embrace of the Chukchi lifestyle (84).