Eskimo Pie

Life is circuitous, wouldn't you agree? I took a trip to Chicago's Field Museum and stood transfixed in front of all things Eskimo: seal boots, fur coats, netted eye protectors, and the like. Today, as I was riffling through a stack of underpriced books at Village Discount, I found a hard cover edition of Peter Freuchens "Book of the Eskimos." I bought the book for a quarter and brought it home, eager to see how the Eskimos live. The book was charmingly paternalistic ("they wear their hair in a low bun on the back of the head, kept in place with a bit of string or ribbon. It is long, straight, and blue-black, loose strands framing a broad oval face whose eyes seem to brim with savage, unashamed passion") but entertaining nonetheless. I find that passions and interests seem to converge in knots this way; loose threads come together and solidify when you least expect it. I'm excited about this Eskimo account. Is it the idea of igloos? Fur parkas and a life of mysterious ice athletics? I can't say. I do know that the book came from Highwood Public Library. It's long overdue.