About this item
Prime Arctic predator and nomad of the sea ice and tundra, the polar bear endures as a source of wonder, terror, and fascination. Humans have seen it as spirit guide and fanged enemy, as trade good and moral metaphor, as food source and symbol of ecological crisis. Eight thousand years of artifacts attest to its charisma, and to the fraught relationships between our two species. In the White Bear, we acknowledge the magic of wildness: it is both genuinely itself and a screen for our imagination.Ice Bear traces and illuminates this intertwined history. From Inuit shamans to Jean Harlow lounging on a bearskin rug, from the cubs trained to pull sleds toward the North Pole to cuddly superstar Knut, it all comes to life in these pages. With meticulous research and more than 160 illustrations, the author brings into focus this powerful and elusive animal.
About the Author
"Every now and then a writer emerges who has both an intimate and hard-won experience of the wilderness and the prose skills to share what they found there, seemingly without loss along the wires. For my money, Michael Engelhard is one of this rare breed."
- David Knowles, publisher of EarthLines
LANGUAGE AND LANDSCAPE
I first discovered storied landscapes as an anthropology student. Accompanying Native Alaskan elders on hunting and fishing excursions, I shared in the place-based experience of people who maintained fluency in nature's idiom to an unequaled degree. Each slough, each mountain pass, each peregrine roost or bear den spoke to them of a past that is also present. The landmarks and associated stories express a worldview as much as they embody knowledge. They focus the traditions of people whose history and self-image largely reside in the land. They define homeland rather than wilderness. They endure as part of a moral universe, eloquent reminders that continue to shape the identities of groups and individuals.
Among the Colorado Plateau's mesas and canyons I found my own voice. There as well, indigenous cultures had assembled a record of things that centered and grounded them. They spoke to me through their rock art and ruins, through legends and myths, through Navajo silver and Hopi pottery. Yet like the enfolding landscape, these artifacts yielded more questions than answers, confounding the newcomer. I traced some of my own civilization's stories while roaming redrock mazes that converged upon Glen Canyon - which now lies beneath the inertia of Lake Powell. In the process, I realized words matter more than I thought: an artificial lake should be called a "reservoir," in debt to the truth. What began as a personal quest quickly grew into a book. Others soon followed. As a wilderness guide and writer I not only unearth extant tales but also sink roots deep into landscapes, creating new stories that drive and sustain me.
