00014 · The Knife of Allakariallak
“So as to cut more easily, Nanook licks his walrus ivory knife, which instantly is glazed with ice,” reads an intertitle in the 1922 silent film Nanook of the North. In an unforgettable scene, an Inuk man—actually named Allakariallak, but simplified to Nanook for the film —quickly builds an igloo using just his knife and generations of Inuk wisdom.
Allakariallak starts by probing a slope of snow with a spear, looking for a site which contains the perfect kind of snow to provide a quarry of building materials. He then builds the igloo around himself, simultaneously lowering the floor as he removes perfectly angled blocks of snow, custom carved as he builds the wall, which angles to a ceiling finishes as a dome.
It’s an incredibly structurally sound piece of architecture: Buckminster Fuller took inspiration from igloos in imagining his geodesic domes. Nanook’s family leans and stands on the igloo as they fill in gaps between blocks, using their knives like frosting spatulas.
Nanook then emerges from the sealed igloo by cutting out a door at its base. The final touch of genius is his placement of a two-foot square of ice, six inches thick, into the wall of the igloo. He deftly cuts a hole the perfect size, snugly fits the ice, and then places a block of snow next to it. The flat surface of white serves to reflect the sun, filling the igloo with light. “Complete within the hour,” reads another title card.
I’m a deep fan of Arctic and Antarctic survival stories, and was in awe watching this movie decades ago, having borrowed the VHS tape from the Phoenix library. There are universal lessons to be learned from native peoples, who survive and thrive in harsh lands by cultivating a wisdom of balanced living. European explorers pale in comparison, as they lug their entire culture and ways of living with them, and stubbornly die under the weight of their “superior” baggage.
Allakariallak and his companions can coax a world of food, clothing, and shelter from just a knife and a few other possessions: harpoon, kayak, snow goggles, cook pots and lamps, sled and dogs.
I have to note that there are a lot of problems with this movie. Allakariallak did in fact have a rifle and other modern equipment, and many scenes in the film were staged. Cultural appropriations and misinterpretations abound.
At the same time, this was one of the first movies ever made. It is one of the earliest documentaries attempted, created by amateurs with just one camera in conditions that would challenge modern filmmakers. The Inuk themselves served as camera operators.
The value of this film is that it captures a way of life at its full height, just as its being diluted by modernity. We see are people incredibly skilled at their ways of living, who display an Olympic athlete level of physicality and performance. We get to see elite humans, the Inuk, display their prowess with easy and joyous confidence.
* * *
Back when I first started a family, with a wife and two kids, I was intent on upping my cooking game. I bought a ton of specialized gadgets like Cuisinart choppers and garlic presses and paella spoons and crepe makers.
I was also asking a lot of questions of my brother-in-law, Neal, who is an incredible chef. He’d been cooking since he was a child, naturally drawn to it, and was a graduate of Scottsdale Culinary Institute.
One evening I was with Neal in his new apartment. He’d just gotten divorced, and he was cooking in what they kindly call an “efficiency kitchen,” meaning there was one countertop about the size of a small cutting board. I’d never seen him in a small kitchen before.
I watched him crank out an incredible meal, spinning and whirling in the tiny space, using just one knife with the dexterity of a martial artist. He made that knife do every single thing that my gadgets were purpose-built for, and he did it better. I realized I was a sucker, and an unskilled one at that.
I of course thought of Allakariallak’s knife: one sharp universal tool with which to do everything.
I picked up a lot of cooking and knife skills from Neal, both by observation and direct tutoring. He was also an Airborne Ranger with the US Army, who’d actively deployed in the invasion of Panama in 1989—“Operation Just Cause.” He and other Rangers were the first ones in, jumping in the dark of night to seize the airfield and raid Noriega’s headquarters.
“You hold a knife to cut tomatoes like this,” he told me once, then quickly flipped the knife in his hand so the blade faced out and paralleled back along his forearm. “And you hold it like this to kill somebody.” Gotcha, Neal.
* * *
I think of Allakariallak’s knife often. We search for and purchase specialized software and gear and gadgets when we want to accomplish something we’ve never done before, and then complain when that purchase fails us. Of course it isn’t lack of skill or intelligence on our part!
I think the problem is that we don’t trust ourselves. More importantly, we don’t give ourselves the time to learn, nor do we receive the forgiveness to make mistakes from ourselves and others. It doesn’t help that we are bombarded with messaging to buy products that fix problems we were not aware we had.
A simpler way of life is gone, and it’s our fault. We have commodified everything we touch, including Allakariallak and his way of life.
As Allakariallak and his family unload their dog sled, ready to settle in for the night in their temporary yet incredibly safe and warm home, this title card appears: “A few robes of bear and deer skin, a stone pot and stone lamps is the list of their household belongings.”
