When writing means only imagination: reading about the inuits.

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Today I decided to check on Hans Ruesch´s novel, Top of the World. It is a beautiful novel about the inuit, the esquimos who are farther north. When I read the author´s biography, I discovered that he had written his novel out of imagination alone. He had never seen an esquimo in his life. That reminded me of my favorite author when I was a child: the Italian Emilio Salgari. He filled my mind with awesome adventures in India of the great hero Sandokan. I was very old before I learned that he had never been in India. Still, in spite of the historical flaws that Top of the World may have, I´ll read it again. It hope the second reading will be fun. I did try to read Sandokan when I was older and it was pitiful. Yet, at least in my country, a whole generation dreamed thanks to him. And many years later there was either a movie or a TV serial about Salgari´s hero. Now to my reading. I´m waiting for the taxi to Claudia´s home so I´d better just wait.