In “The Net,” a girl and her mother arrive at their secluded cabin on a frozen lake to find their fishing net has been attacked, a massive hole ripped through the middle. After the net has been mended and the night’s catch eaten, the daughter sits awake playing with a bit of leftover netting string. When she was a girl, her grandmother taught her to make string figures—just as her mother had taught her—a game played by Inuit for generations, but a game not to be taken lightly . . . as the daughter plays late into the night, and the mother sleeps, other monstrous forces are soon awakened from beneath the frozen lake. In “Before Dawn” a young boy runs out onto the tundra to play with his new friend by his side, venturing far beyond his mother’s rule that he not stray past the inuksuk on the horizon. The boy’s friend beckons him farther and farther, and the farther they get from home, the more the friend seems to change . . . until he is no longer human at all. Horrified, the boy listens to the creature’s return home before dawn, or be lost forever to the other side . . . Complemented by haunting illustrations from Toma Feizo Gas, The Other Ones is a fresh take on modern horror by an exciting new Inuit voice.
I just wish this were longer! Two chilling stories based on Inuit mythology with a dash of modern horror. Great illustrations. Canadian author, have to read Canadian. Hope there is another book with more stories and amazing artwork.
For some reason this book is just two horror stories, one a lot longer than the other. The brief one is a tale of a child led astray, and the other has a mother and daughter in a fishing cabin, that the women of the household have traditionally gone to for generations to bond and gut some fish. Making patterns from lengths of material kind of like a cat's cradle is something you shouldn't do at night, it seems, for the Other Ones – the Inuunngittut – might be awakened. This was the more interesting work for me – the art throughout is really strong and impactful, making this a supremely dark little drama, and this was a tale where the indigenous spirit was almost too strong, and the work almost best suited for the native communities local to this Inuktitut publisher. The fact it stayed on the right side of things, for clarity and ease of reading etc, made this a strong title. Shame there wasn't a full-length compilation of these stories to be had; they would open up a culturally fascinating, if dark, window.
Billed as an adult's picture book, Fournier's *The Other Ones* is precisely that. Structured similar to the picture books I would read my daughter, only with content aimed at adults. And this content matches the form; both of the tales that comprise this book are perfectly told with elegant prose that mimics (but is not reducible to) the kind of direct storyteller narrative found in children's books. The transformation of Inuit folklore into horror stories, as well as the connection with the real world horror of Indigenous trauma, was very well executed. Fournier could very well become one of the next voices in literary horror; I look forward to whatever novel/novella he will eventually write.
The creatures were unique and the artwork was beautiful. I really liked this (very) fast read and would love if they came out with a longer anthology. Native American and First Nation writing is really staring to find a strong place in the fiction world, and especially the horror sub genre, and I am very excited to read more.
It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on child endangerment, violence, the forced disappearance of a child, grief, the loss of a loved one, & others.
When I endeavour to read a Horror story I feel immense eagerness at the prospect of fear. It is not that I believe fear to be an enjoyable emotion or even something that I strive to find rather, fear is a tenderness within the heart of each of us that is hidden, coddled, & safe. When an author has the ability to produce a work of fiction that breaches the veins & muscle matter of the protector of our fears, I am faced with a joy indescribable in common words. To find that which is hidden inside each of us is a skill uncommon in the abysmal literary world of hyper-production, sloshy vernacular, & disparaging plots. Only the masterful, the monstrous, the transcended writer knows us through the thickness of skin peeled from a tree & ink thicker than bone.
Fournier’s work was brought to my attention while I perused the CBC’s yearly list of authors that I should be aware of; books that I should add to my ever-growing pile of literature, lining every corner & crevice of my home. In this story he presents two tales of lore & terror that nestle themselves in the looming evening & drenching light of a fading sun; structuring in the stories told to Inuit children to keep them safe.
I will not lie to you; these stories did not affect me at all. They did not traverse the page to knock on my door as I read them in the dead of night during a bout with my ever-tender friend, insomnia. The reason for which I have written my introductory paragraph as I have is to remind readers & myself that the merit of a good book is in its devices. There are many readers who will come across these stories & regret turning off the light before they hid their toes under the blanket. The combination of illustrations within this collection brings the stories to life in a way that transcends the imaginary; suffocating the presence of real & fake; bridging a divide that we did not know kept us safe.
If I had one contention with this book, it is that I am unsure who the target audience is. The folklore tells of skinwalkers, demons who lure children out of their parent’s grasp into the tundra to be consumed for their life force. The stories remind readers of the horrors that exist in conjunction with the lore that crafts these tales. To be honest, I enjoyed reading about them. However, I did not enjoy reading about them from a position of ghoulish pleasure—as stated in the introduction—but from the stance of the casual observer, sat waiting for their turn; silent until the demon’s eyes catch their own.
Ultimately, these stories read as very young, very simple, & intended for burgeoning audiences. This is not meant to be interpreted as a knock against the book itself. Rather, I maintain my uncertainty with the target reader for it is certainly not me. Might I recommend this book to others? Definitely. It’s an interesting take on stories that I have been well aware of for many years of my life. Yet, I would not state that the stories form a whole that needed to be consumed.
If the intention of these tales was to remind children to be watchful, respectful, light-footed, & cautious then the book might do well in the hands of a reader who was once just like me. This reader might be curious & eager to explore the stories that shape the shadows of our world. If this is the case, then I think it has hit the mark. Fournier has truly presented stories in the flesh; made them real, & given them follicles, lashes, grime, & gunk. However, for readers who are as I am today, the book presents something of a short & quaint read.
The number of stories (two) leaves the book to be almost too short to leave an impact. Had there been an evenly odd three or perhaps a quartet of stories uniform in length, the book might not feel disjointed. After the first story has ended I began to feel that it should have been the last; not the introduction to the book but the one that left us gasping for thanks. The second story is very short & leaves the conclusion of the book pin-pricked with emptiness. A child is dead—disappeared—this would serve well as the tale that cautioned the reader; reminding them that they have chosen this book not because it was comforting or quirky but because they want to find what I detailed in the beginning; their own fear presented to them on the pages.
Overall, I enjoyed this short jaunt through cautionary tales of those others who inhabit the land with us. The ones that bring us underground, shave off the bottom of our feet so we disappear into thin air. The others who cast themselves a skin as silky & new as the baby born into a home lined with precautious words detailing the loss of those who came before it. I will be eagerly awaiting future work from Fournier.
Thank you to Edelweiss+, Inhabit Media, & Jamesie Fournier for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This is a horror album with 2 stories from Inuk author Jamesie Fournier, based on Inuit mythology/lore. It's a short read, but I felt it was worth it. It feels like the kind of stories you would tell around a campfire.
In my opinion, the first one was better. It keeps you engrossed and it quickly makes you empathetic to the character (who is only called "the girl") and her situation. It seems to have themes of generational gaps and cultural loss, and also feeling like you are slowly growing apart from your family, all of that compact in a few pages. The monster/creature was spooky and I really loved the art of it. Mixed with the creepy descriptions, it rendered the horror effective for the kind of story this was.
The second story reads like a cautionary tale, kinda like Little Red Riding Hood or something. It is about a kid being duped by a monster/creature into disobeying his mother's directives and ignoring her warning, and then this kid suffering the consequences.
Perhaps there is a thread between the two stories, that of an external force taking kids away (which is a concrete fear rooted in reality for Native people). However I still felt the two were a little uneven when put together. I thought the first story had more of an emotional weight. Or maybe, if I had read the second story before the first, I might have enjoyed it even more because it wouldn't have been as impacted by the comparison. Still think it is a pretty neat album though.
The last book of 2025 for me also happens to be my very first Inuit horror read. I’d love to read more after this introduction. I took great pleasure in in learning a bit about Inuit mythology but also appreciated the commonalities found in folk stories from my own part of the world: listen to your mom/generational advice and beware of strangers posing as friends. Additionally, the artwork is gorgeous.
An overview of the stories can be found below (NB: spoilers)
The Other Ones by Jamesie: -The Net: An Inuit girl doesn’t heed her mother’s warning about what she might invite in by playing with string at night and is soon confronted with a very hungry being from the lake. The one chance she has to avoid getting dragged down into the murky water is to draw what knowledge her family has given her of their shared history. I loved how this dealt with family, identity (including what has been robbed through boarding schools more reminiscent of prisons)
-Before Dawn: A boy and his friend is told to not wander too far. Lost in the fun and games he soon realizes that his friend is not the person he thought he knew (or a person at all) but something keen to consume his light if he doesn’t make it back home by morning.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Judging solely from the cover, this is nothing like I thought it would be. It looks like it might be a horror graphic novel but it's actually a picture book with only a couple of Inuit short stories. The stories are not complex, nor are they particularly well written. It could almost be a childrens book (it is 45 pages long) except that one of the stories says 'holy shit' a couple of times. Speaking of language, there is a mixture of Inuit language mixed in that isnt very well explained although there is a glossary at the end which would have been helpful at the beginning. It was fine for what it was, but it wasnt what it seemed which is partially on me because I only saw it online when I ordered it and judged it by its cover.
“I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.” It was not my favorite read, I am not sure what I was expecting, but this did not deliver for me. I did not know that this was a novella or that it had two short stories. I love lore and mythology-type stories, but I feel they need to be delivered in a way that will make you want more, and I just feel this was maybe too short? Or just didn't pack enough wow factor for me. The cover looks amazing, and I would pick this book up just by the cover; my students, on the other hand, would think this is boring.
3.75 Rounded Up I am not at all familiar with Inuit folklore, that being said this was a wonderful introduction! Broken down into two short stories, I definitely found myself much more into the first one, it was scarier, more detailed, and the central theme of family and family lore being what saves you was great. The second story was also good and had some great scary imagery I guess its main fault is that it wasn't longer, I needed more time to be invested in the main character. The illustrations were perfectly done.
Thank you to Edelweiss+ for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.
This is by no means a complaint about the size of the book, I'd just like to say that it wasn't clear in the descriptions that they were such short, short stories.
The illustrations were a nice change of pace to add to the visuals of the stories.
Both stories were fine. Some of the evolving narrative visuals were hard to follow at times. Without context given within the story itself I was left reading, pretty unaware of how the lore/rules work. I would have liked them longer, if only to better flesh that out.
Thanks to Edelweiss and Inhabit Media for the DRC.
I'm very tempted to get a physical copy when this comes out. The illustrations are gorgeous, it adds so much to the stories. The two short stories are also very good, eerie folk tales, mixing Inuit mythology with a modern setting, including the continuing trauma inflicted by settlers. I just want to hold it in my hands, have these gorgeous stories in my physical possession, and share them with everyone I know.
"The mother then held her close and told her repeatedly that it was okay. It was all over."
This was so disappointing.
I wanted to love this, and really expected to. I love horror, and have been interested in reading more Indigenous perspectives on it for awhile, but haven't gotten around to it until now. The story ideas were good, but the delivery was so flat and poorly done. I think the writing was just really bad was the problem. Do not recommend.
Two really cool stories featuring Inuit folklore and the haunting creatures meant to warn children for their safety. The two tales had beautiful art to accompany the storytelling that really made the impactful scenes pop. Honestly, my one complaint is that it's so short. A third story could have rounded out the experience and give more insight into Inuit stories and mythos.
Stories like this should be longer. They are a glimpse into a mythology many of us are unfamiliar with and in this book it’s a dark glimpse. Great narrative, amazing use of the glossary. I wished it was longer!
A quick, fun, spooky read. This features two short stories The Net and Before Dawn. Both felt like I was reading folklore and I loved it. The Net was my favorite of the two
I wish this book was longer! The illustrations breathe life into the two horror tales in this book, and give them the feel of a story you would tell around the fire.
I liked these stories! The theme of generational knowledge is great, and the elements of horror go beyond the stereotypical. Cultural-based horror is almost always a great idea.
A combination of yes, things are spooky, but at the same time, they are not. However, there are monsters (and not just under the bed) and who want to do more than play. And there are stories of how the old ways are being lost, and yet, that might be the only way to save yourself. Unique illustrations paint native folklore in a way that you think you are safe. That is, until the lights go off. Or even when the dawn arrives.