Book Review: Cousins by Patricia Grace

Posted on 30. March 2022 by yekah101

The novel Cousins by Patricia Grace was first published by Penguin New Zealand in 1992. It is about the lives of three cousins and how they grow up under different circumstances.

The first protagonist and the oldest cousin Mata is introduced in the first part of the book. Her tragic point of view is mostly curated from her childhood self and sometimes from her middle-aged point of view. She has a Māori mother and a Pākeha father. Mata grows up in a Girl’s Home and has a legal guardian because her father does not want her to grow up with her Māori side of the family, but also does not want to take care of her himself. She only is allowed to visit her family once, but she cannot really interact with them, because she understands neither the language nor their traditions. Mata cannot relate to her Māori side nor to the Pākeha side. She is very introverted and feels neglected because no one ever tried to get her out of this situation or tried to understand her.

“Everybody knew each other, knew how to finish each other’s sentences, knew what to do and say, belonged to each other. There was a secret to it that she knew nothing of.”

Chapter 16

The second protagonist, Makareta is introduced in the eighteenth chapter of the book. Her mother narrates this part of the story. Makareta is brought up as a ceremonial puhi, the Chosen One, and that’s the reason why she is very significant to her tribe, she is supposed to protect the tribe. Because of that she is raised differently than for example her younger cousin Missy. Makareta is privileged in that she receives extensive education, does not have to do hard work like Missy, and does not even need to brush her own hair. When Makareta is old enough she is supposed to marry someone from another tribe to connect their families. Makareta does not accept her fate, but rather decides to leave her family and become a nurse in the city she moves to.

“At school I saw my first language as something to be ashamed of, something that should be kept secret, a wrong punishable thing – even though another part of me told me that it was language, and all that want with it, that gave me to myself, made me know who I was.”

Chapter 41

The third and also the last cousin’s perspective is introduced in the thirty-first chapter.  The narrator appears to be the dead twin brother of Missy. In the second part, she speaks for herself (as does Makareta). She is the one to take the place of her cousin and becomes the Chosen One. She marries the man from the other tribe and becomes the caretaker of the land. Missy is the one who is left behind and always waits for her cousins to return.

“If you’re not the one meant your Aunty Anihera and your mother wouldn’t have done what they did. If you’re not the one meant your cousin wouldn’t have gone away. If you’re not the one meant it wouldn’t have been you standing in the house with the words coming from you without a doubt in your heart.”  

Chapter 42

I really enjoyed reading Cousins. It was my first ever reading experience reading a novel about Māori culture. Before, I didn’t know very much about it and it was really interesting. All three cousins have different beliefs and approach their culture, religion and simply life differently. This diversity has helped me understand the culture and its diaspora a lot better. I also really liked that Patricia Grace discusses aspects of activism, teaching Māori in schools, politics and the role of Māori women in her novel.

Patricia Grace’s Cousins has 264 pages and is available as a paperback (ISBN 978-0704343559) for less than 8 Euros.

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Is the novel The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke by Tina Makereti really a must-read?

Posted on 21. March 2022 by Leonie John 
Anonymous review posted on behalf of one of the students

Note: The reviewer briefly discusses the novel’s ending.

The New Zealand writer Tina Makereti published her second novel, The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke, in 2018. It is about a Māori man who tells us about his life in the mid-19th century, from his tragic experiences at a young age to his global travels. The story mostly focusses on James’ life in London, where he meets many different people from different social levels. With some he finds friendship and love, with others disgrace and discomfort. The narrative of James Pōneke is very loosely based on a true story, which Makereti stumbled across in the form of a newspaper article. The novel contains many sensitive topics such as racism, rape, extreme homophobic violence and general violence.

A negative aspect I would like to talk about is the fact that the novel does not provide a trigger warning at the beginning. It contains a lot of violence in different forms, which could be harmful for some readers. Something else that might be viewed as negative is the fact that this novel does not have a happy ending. One could say that books always need happy endings, but I think that I would not have wanted this book to end on happy terms, or even imagine it to happen. Considering the various forms of discrimination and violence that Indigenous people historically had to endure, the unsanitized depiction of James’ struggles seems appropriate and convincing.

The main character’s emotions are relatable and also convincingly conveyed in Makereti’s narrative. Due to the many plot twists that are presented in the novel you never know what to expect, which makes reading this novel a real experience and adventure. I got drawn in, smiled on James’ incredible way of thinking and defending his honour (p. 112 et sqq.). My heart warmed due to the niceness of some people around James (p. 190 ff.). I cried as he lost something important to him (p. 234 et sqq.) and I felt the pain of one-sided love (p. 185). You feel all these emotions around James, which makes it harder but also easier to read this novel all at once.

The many topics Makereti chose to adress in this novel are all very well handled and put together. She does not make James himself all about his Indigenous self or him being gay the whole story. She blends his characteristics rather than reducing his personality to just one thing, which is often the case in books that include such topics. By highlighting different characteristics that make up his personality, the author allows the reader dig deep into his persona, understand why he acts the way he does, and connect to his emotions on a different level.

If I had to give this novel a rating, I would probably go with 4 ½ out of 5 stars. I really enjoyed reading this book, even when it was hard sometimes because of the depicted violence. I deducted half a point due to the missing trigger warning because I personally believe that some people could get triggered by the events that are adressed in this novel.

The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke can be found on Amazon with the ISBN-10: 1785631527 or ISBN-13: 978-1785631528 for 11,42€ in paperback format/4,86 € in Kindle format, or you can order it in your local bookstore.

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The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke

Posted on 21. March 2022 by aileena99

A review of Tina Makereti’s latest novel, a book which focuses on the experiences of a Māori orphan

*Warning: contains spoilers*

The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke, written by Tina Makereti, narrates the live of Hemi/James, who showcases his experiences as an orphaned Māori boy in Aotearoa (New Zealand) and in London. His life seems to repeat itself. In the beginning of the novel, it becomes clear that he wants to find a place where he can stay and attain as much knowledge as possible. In the end, we also realize that all that Hemi wants is to find a place he can call home, and even though he did acquire the knowledge he longed for, he once again lost nearly everyone who played an important role in his life.

But my lips remained closed, and as the reciting and storytelling went on into the night I felt more and more the need to curl into the shadows. These were their stories of belonging, not mine. I properly understood this word ‘orphan’ for the first time then.

Chapter 3

Throughout the novel we witness Hemi gain friends and make acquaintances, yet he never really feels at home. He believes that he needs to distance himself and that his unrequited love for a man he meets in London is the reason he can never get too close to the latter and his partner. The only time that he does display his feelings, he sees this friendship fall apart.

But love doesn’t care for reality. Each morning he was there with me, in my arms, my desire a heat that would only leave me cold. I kept it from everyone, and it kept me from everyone.

Chapter 14

Hemi loses all his friends and also his lover Ethan (whom he meets on a ship that is later wrecked). In the end, he does not have anyone aside from the artist and his family. It was the artist who brought him to London, and his family who let him stay with them after his return to London. Hemi considers the family of the artist to be the closest people he has at this point in his life. Even though the artist brought him to London to be an exhibition piece at an art gallery about Māori culture, Hemi will always stay in his and his family’s debt.

I was a fool, I knew it to my core, and what’s more I suspected I brought ill-luck to all those who loved me. I had lost so many. The ones who remained untouched were protected by their station in life, their place in society so carefully constructed by people like them.

Chapter 19

In conclusion, I think that Tina Makereti successfully brings to life the story of a seemingly doomed orphan boy. The themes of despair and ill fate are especially prominent in the novel. It depicts not only the seemingly lost orphan boy, but also highlights all kinds of other lives that were influenced by industrialization. On an overarching level, Makereti shows how easily someone can drift away from their roots, in combination with the constant longing to truly belong somewhere.

Reference: Markereti, Tina. The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke. Hertfordshire, Lightning Books Ltd, 2019.

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A Response to “In the Shadow Of Monte Cassino” by Lauren Keenan

Posted on 20. March 2022 by lindabue104

It’s not easy to act according your parents’ will, especially when you do not know what secrets they live with.

In the short story “In the Shadow of Monte Cassino”, published in 2017 in Huia Short Stories 12 by Māori author Laruen Keenan, the journey of Eruera, a Māori man who reflects on his lifelong attempt to fulfil his father’s expectations, is described. Instead of focusing on himself, Eruera continues to base his life on his father’s judgements.

The only active part of the story is Eruera. He visits the battlefield in Italy where his father supposedly fought as soldier in the Second World War. As he walks towards Monte Cassino, his thoughts revolve around his late father and what the latter might say to him in this situation. When Eruera passes a cemetery, he coincidentally finds the grave of his uncle, at whom his late father was always angry. Now Eruera realises that his father never took part in WWII and just made it all up.

“Stupid, cheap map. He should have bought one from someone who spoke English while he was in Rome.”

(p. 71)

The story is told from Eruera’s point of view, but in the third person. Right from the beginning, I had a strange feeling that the main character has a really negative mindset in that sentence. As the story continued and Eruera made his way to Monte Cassino, I had the impression that the closer he got to the hill, the crazier his mind went. He is always looking for excuses not to climb up Monte Cassino. All these twists and turns are really well done by the author. When I read the story, I had an odd and intense feeling because he seemed stressed. At first I thought that he was looking forward to the trip, but when I looked at him more closely, I realised that his self-esteem decreased a bit every time he thought about his father (e.g. “Man up, boy, you wouldn’t lasted a day at Monte Cassino with that attitude.” p. 72). It seemed as though Eruera believed that no one respects him. Especially his own father was never proud of him, regardless of what he achieved.

In my opinion, the short story unrolls a lot of emotions from WWII. When we meet Eruera, he thinks he is the son of a Māori soldier who took part in the war to gain respect for his tribe, to be treated equally and to receive the full privilege of citizenship for his family. So Eruera has to respect his father and believes everything he says. Yet his father used to denigrate him by comparing him with his Uncle Gerry, who supposedly “died of shame after all these heroes came home. You’re just like your Uncle Gerry, both of you couldn’t have climbed Monte Cassino if you’d tried.” (p. 72) I strongly believe that is a reason why Eruera has such low self-esteem. Always being compared is hard, but being compared to someone who cannot climb up a hill is even worse. I suppose that the relationship between Eruera and his father was really toxic. As a result, he just remembers negative comments and bad comparisons. Even in the narrative present, when Eruera’s father is long dead, he feels the disappointment in every step he takes.

“Dad was long gone but Eruera still let him down.”

(p. 73)

After all the emotional ups and downs, this passage reveals that Eruera thinks he is failing and disappointing his father once again. It seems to me that he has the urge to show his father that he is capable of doing something right, like climbing Monte Cassino.

“Eruera should have paid better attention. He should have found out more about the war before dad dies.” (p. 72). On the one hand, Eruera remembers his father’s aggressive behaviour, on the other hand he misses him and regrets the time when he did not listen to his stories. I’m honestly surprised that Eruera’s feelings and his development could touch me so strongly. This turn of events throws a pitiful shadow on Eruera and makes him even smaller than he is. From time to time, his mind clears and he notices his surroundings. However, I guess Eruera is just looking for excuses not to climb the mountain.

In my opinion, the author is highly successful in creating a great tension. When I finally thought Eruera would climb up and feel relieved and happy, he entered the cemetery. Even though this moment was really dark, it also fascinated me. When Eruera recognized the name on the gravestone and found out what Uncle Gerry had done, it felt for me like Eruera’s world was falling apart because he finally understood why his grandparents had no contact to his father and why others gave him ugly nicknames.

I think Eruera must have been shocked at the first moment, but right after he likely felt relieved because he had uncovered the secret of his heroic father and lightened the big shadow hanging over him. To come back to my first impression of the short story, and having reread it, I feel like there is much to read between the lines. At first I thought that Eruera was a pitiful and sad man who has no goal, and only thinks about everything that has already happened, even imitating his father’s comments. From a more aware point of view I am certain that Eruera always had the strength to be himself, but was too afraid to be that person. So he hid behind the role of his father, but after discovering the big lie he grew up with, he finally understands that he is better than his father because at least he is honest.

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Book Review of Patricia Grace’s Cousins

Posted on 19. March 2022 by amera

Cousins by New Zealand author Patricia Grace tells a story of three cousins growing up after the Second World War in New Zealand. At that time, many Maori had difficulties retaining their cultural identity as they migrated from the rural areas to the cities. The three cousins Mata, Makareka and Missy have different lives and experience very different upbringings and childhoods. What they have in common is that they are shaped by their belonging to an invaded people who struggle to preserve their own language and faith in their motherland.

As a young girl, Mata is led to believe that her mother has died, but in fact she left her family behind to start over. However, Mata’s mother soon becomes very ill and her family is unable to find Mata because she has already been handed over to the legal guardian who places her in an orphanage. Mata’s father is a Pakeha who is not there for her and abandons her. She frequently feels inferior and inadequate in the company of others. Another problem is that she is ashamed of her skin color and always feels out of place. 

Makareta is brought up by her grandmother and grows up understanding her culture and speaking Maori and also English fluently. It is no problem for her to find her way in the two environments. She becomes highly influential in activist Maori circles after rejecting a marriage arranged by her grandmother. The way I read it, this is where her success comes from.

Missy was raised by her Māori whānau and grows up in poverty, which influences her schooling and other aspects of her life. At the same time, she grows up in a strong Maori community. Her grandmother punishes Missy’s mother because she married an unsuitable man in her eyes. Because her grandmother strongly adheres to traditions and her mother rejects them, Missy and her siblings are in constant conflict. Missy has difficulties finding her way outside her community, despite the support of her family.

The book begins with Mata walking barefoot on a street at night, with no belongings except for a photo of her mother. Her story is told from the child’s point of view and in the first-person perspective of an older version of Mata. Significant parts of the narrative focus on the difficult circumstances that shape her life in the orphanage. When Mata is ten years old, she accidentally discovers her resemblance to Makareta. The orphanage reluctantly allows her to spend three weeks of holidays with her family. When she arrives, everything is very different from what Mata had expected. Keita, her grandmother, gives her a photo of her mother. Missy’s mother, Glory, shows Mata her mother’s grave and her ancestors. She doesn’t feel she belongs anywhere and this conflict runs through the book.

The book shows the lives of Mata, Makareta and Missy, three Maori cousins. The chapters are told from multiple perspectives, so that you get to know the three cousins from various angles and at different ages. Only a few memories remain of their brief interlude together. Since then they have gone separate and very different ways, but they cross paths again later in the novel.

Cousins is a thought-provoking book that reflects profound themes, such as cultural, material and emotional deprivation and its effects. On the other hand, the feeling of community and closeness with nature is constantly present, which creates beautiful emotions. The community also includes the dead and the ancestors, who also are present to support the living in the present. The book and the fates described are touching and made me emotional. For example, Mata has to deal with loss of cultural roots, loss of language and even an absence her own (Maori) name. 

Unfortunately, for the foreign reader it is hard to recognize the symbols of Maori culture which are presented. To really understand the meaning behind it, you need to have some kind of prior knowledge. Often the chapters are dragging and it becomes difficult to follow. As soon as you know the protagonists and can roughly understand what and why something is happening, it makes reading easier, but this took me a few chapters.  

I recommend this book to anyone interested in New Zealand, Maori culture and/or general identity conflicts. It seems to be a good read for young people, but also adults of any age. In summary, Cousins teaches you to understand and compare different realities and shows how small decisions can change your life.

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Home and Uprooting in Kelly Joseph’s “Transient”

Posted on 19. March 2022 by jomit100

Home.

What does home mean to people?

Is it the place where one grew up? The place where one is living now? The place where one’s ancestors lived?

Or is home defined by the people with whom one lives together? Family. Friends. Neighbours. Those people surely are needed to make a simple geographical location into a home. Connection to a place is often tied to experiences, shared between a certain group of people.

Māori culture and literature can show us how ambivalent and varied the perception of home may be. As Polynesians, Māori have a nomadic history where mobility and the impetus to find a new home play a huge role. Even today, after living in Aotearoa for hundreds of years, the mythical home island of Hawaiki (where Māori originally came from) is central to Māori spirituality and folklore. The connection to one’s ancestors and family also is an important part of Māori culture. Whakapapa (genealogy) is an integral part of identity for Māori people.

“Transient” is a short story about the uprooting and feeling of disconnection a lot of Māori (and Indigenous people in general) are confronted with. It mostly takes place in New York and is written from the perspective of a Māori woman living in the US.

Deep down I ache constantly for home and family. I have flown back a few times but things have changed since I left. It’s clear to me that my homesickness is not just longing for a place; it’s a yearning for people and a time that have passed, that no longer exist and that can never be reached again.

(p. 147)

This part of the short story shows the struggle with being disconnected from the place where, and people with whom, you feel at home. Even though the protagonist has been living in the States for five years already, she is still homesick and feels foreign in her new “home”. This may also be connected to the struggle of all Māori people after the arrival of the people who are now called Pākehā. Like a lot of other Indigenous peoples, Māori had their home stolen (in a geographical and cultural sense). Their land was forcefully taken from them or was purloined through unfair contracts (most guarantees to Māori in those contracts were not maintained). Additionally, Māori people were (directly or indireclty) forced to live like Pākehā people did and were encouraged to abandon their spiritual beliefs. These experiences may have led Māori people to travel to other countries in the hope of finding a new home, a chance to get different tools to fight for their rights back in Aotearoa, or as a means of proving their worth (e.g. the Māori Battalion in the Second World War).

An uprooting is also shown in the short story through the waka huia, an item which may have been stolen and is now exhibited in the museum the protagonist decided to visit. A waka huia is an intimate object which contains personal treasures and is exchanged between different generations, families and tribes. It was often displayed hanging from the ceiling in traditional Māori whare (houses), hence part of a family’s home. In my opinion the waka huia symbolizes the violation of Māori people through colonialism and imperialism. Both the waka huia and the protagonist are uprooted from their homes and stuck in a foreign place. While one could argue that the protagonist is studying in the States of her own volition, I believe that it shows that even though Māori people aren’t direct colonial subjects in today’s world, the collective uprooting that was done to them in the past and the social and cultural problems caused by that still have considerable repercussions on contemporary Māori society.

In conclusion, I think that “Transient” does a good job of showing the relation of Māori to their home and the personal problems and feelings they are confronted with due to the continuous violent occupation of their home. It’s not possible to understand the problems Māori face in today’s world and the society of Aotearoa without understanding the connection between Māori and their home, which is why I believe that it’s important to read literature written by Māori authors.

Reference

Joseph, Kelly. 2003. “Transient”. In Huia Short Stories 5. Wellington: HUIA PUBLISHERS.
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“He looked at me like a cold and thirsty sailor might look at a long hot mug of coffee spiked with whiskey”: Gaze and desire in Tina Makereti’s The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke

Posted on 16. March 2022 by cetil100

Tina Makereti’s 2018 novel The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke tells the story of a young Māori boy who travels to London to become part of an exhibition that displays Māori culture to an audience of Victorian England. It’s a book about identity, about belonging and unbelonging, about violence and humanity, and – what I want to focus on here – about gaze and desire.

The gaze is a motif that runs through the novel in a multitude of ways. The protagonist Hemi is confronted with being an outsider and Other throughout his childhood long before he even reaches London. His formative years are influenced by his experience of what it means to be looked at, to be studied closely, and to look at and actively perceive those around him in turn.

After arriving in London, Hemi soon becomes part of an exhibition arranged by his benefactor. He is the main spectacle, but he also always makes sure to watch and observe his audience. In London, he practises being both spectacle and spectator at zoos, in theatres and at shows (both high- and lowbrow), and in the streets. The centre of the Empire becomes the recipient of his gaze. The gaze can be understood as a form of colonial power, of violence and othering, and through Hemi we see a subversion of the power structure by altering the direction of looking.

It is only later when he meets his friend Billy, whom he regards as non-normative and – due to the relationship with his cross-dressing, perhaps trans-coded girlfriend Henry – as somewhat queer, that the gaze becomes loaded with desire and potential for Hemi. After he realises that Billy must have felt attracted to Henry when he still thought she was a boy, Hemi begins to question what he knows (and feels) about attraction and desire:

“It had been there from the start, I knew, but Henry’s story changed everything. Not everything I knew, but everything it was possible to feel. She had opened up a world in which Billy could look at a man and feel love, and act on it. A world in which I could do the same.”

(p. 157)

What we see here is Hemi’s sexual awakening happening in two directions. It is the real, almost tangible prospect of queerness that is revealed to him through Billy and Henry’s complex relationship with heteronormativity – despite what he knows about the taboo nature of homosexuality in Christianity. This is the first time that this kind of desire becomes a real option in Hemi’s mind.

The other, much more present realisation is one specifically related to Billy as a person: Hemi wants to share at least part of the intimacy Billy has with Henry, wants to be desired in the same way he slowly comes to understand he himself desires Billy:

“I was still curious about one thing. I had seen Billy gazing on her with as much devotion as I think one person could ever bestow on anybody, and I had a sudden desire to be the recipient of that gaze. What was the thing that made her irresistible to him, even dressed as she was?”

(154)

Perhaps for the first time, Hemi actively wants to be looked at, be perceived, because he wishes his desire to be reciprocated. Desire and gaze are related here, immediately, by Makereti’s word choice: Hemi thinks about Billy gazing at Henry, or alternatively looking at a man, and concludes that he wants to experience this as well, both actively and passively. Desire and gaze are intertwined for Hemi, to desire and want something means to see it, to experience it wholly through sight, through looking and examining it.

What starts as potential between Billy and Hemi and is ultimately left unrealised, is then further explored in Hemi’s relationship to sailor and former slave Ethan. The first time Hemi mentions Ethan, he says, “He saw me perhaps even before I saw myself. He knew me.” (p. 220), implicitly characterising their relationship as one filled with desire and longing because we have already encountered how Hemi expresses and understands (queer) desire through the gaze.  

We are further made to understand that to Hemi, desire is still something (perhaps inherently) ineffable, something that is explored through sensual experience rather than words and reason: “I told him my own small story of adventure and woe. All but my feelings for Billy, which were something I had not the language to reveal.” (p. 225)

This also separates Hemi’s past experiences with his unfulfilled desire for Billy from the new reality aboard the ship. Although he followed Billy there, he doesn’t bring their history into the newly developing relationship with Ethan.

This relationship unfolds in a series of moments of direct looking, watching, observing, and most importantly, secretly longing for each other:

“I remember that deep voice. The sureness of it. The deep swell of it. I began seeking him out.
‘And what of women, Ethan? Have you a wife?’
‘I’ve had women, but not a wife. I don’t know there is one for me, to tell the truth of it.’ He looked at me then, too long. Just a moment too long.”

(p. 226)

It is of course no accident that Ethan looks at Hemi and Hemi recognises this look immediately after Ethan admits to being a bachelor, possibly uninterested in women. The gaze doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it is employed as a deliberate tool of communication, an encoded expression of desire.

When Hemi starts to look back at Ethan, he tells the reader explicitly what he sees, inviting us to witness his perception of Ethan, taking us with him on the road to desire:

“Ethan […] began climbing the rigging, his muscles working under a sheen of sweat, the evening light glancing off just so.
I became his disciple, watching my new friend far too often and at too much length. And when I saw him look back I didn’t trust it for a long time – I thought it might be my own feelings clouding my perception. A look that lingers too long is not enough to mean anything, and yet I wanted it to.”

(p. 226)

Hemi still hesitates because although he knows how to read a gaze as a deliberate expression of desire, he has no way of knowing if it was intended this way. The uncertainty and anxiety over his own feelings and whether they may be reciprocated mirrors his past with Billy, but this time they culminate in a scene charged with anticipation and, for the first time, certainty of mutuality:

“As was my custom, I stole glances, reminding myself not to stare too long. We talked to the other men at the table, laughed a bit, chewed and drank, and looked.  I watched his lips as he chewed, the way his throat flexed to swallow. And that was when I saw it: his eyes ran slowly down the length of my face, lingered at my neck, and rose to meet my own again. It was a caress, the way that look played over me. And I knew. What had seemed an impossibility slowly became imaginable, probable even, if only I could cross that space between us.”

(p. 227)

Again, Hemi lets us take part in what he sees, his desire becomes palpable for the reader – and finally he realises with certainty that his feelings are returned. It is still only through recognition of the gaze (rather than an explicit exchange of words or more obvious signs) that he understands what he hoped for has become reality. He is the recipient of Ethan’s gaze.

This becomes even more tangible in the next line: “I came to know my own desire in my recognition of his. Ethan looked at me like a cold and thirsty sailor might look at a long hot mug of coffee spiked with whiskey.” (p. 227) The state of being both active and passive in the act of gazing makes Hemi fully understand his own desire, the reflection of the gaze makes the act of gazing an unquestionable reality. The way that Ethan looks at him tells him all he needs to know; he is desired, he is wanted.

This sentiment is mirrored once the two of them actually have sex and Hemi thinks: “I felt his need as if it were my own, but then it was my own.” (p. 228) Reciprocation and reflection is what characterises their relationship more than anything else, starting with the gaze and ending in a fulfilled physical relationship.

Eventually though, Hemi and Ethan are found out because someone saw them having sex. Their punishment is harsh and violent. What brought them together in one way – beeing seen – is ultimately also what tears their brief relationship apart. We are reminded that the act of seeing, observing and watching is still also a tool of power, both colonial and heteronormative. To be hidden from the gaze is a privilege the two of them are not afforded.

This is made even clearer after Hemi survives the shipwreck and eventually goes to inspect the dead bodies of those who didn’t:

“On the final day I went down to greet my brothers out of some sense of duty. I shouldn’t have. Ethan was grey and blue and bloated, only half of his face and one of his arms intact, but I knew it was him.”

(p. 241)

To see, to know, to experience is not always preferable to being in the dark about something. On the contrary, it can be traumatic and horrifying. Seeing, experiencing and knowing are all in themselves ambivalent and not just expressions of desire as they were for Hemi and Ethan before, they can also be acts of violence, both implicit and explicit.

In sum, Tina Makereti constructs desire almost exclusively through the act of gazing, exploring the relationship between the two and where they intersect in the characters to whom Hemi is closest. The gaze is a tool of colonial power, of othering and of violence, but it also serves as a unique encoded love language that develops alongside Hemi’s coming-of-age.

Reference

Makereti, Tina. The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke. Hertfordshire, Lightning Books Ltd, 2019.

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Misplacement in Kelly Joseph’s “Transient”

Posted on 16. March 2022 by leheg100

Short story: Kelly Joseph – “Transient” (Huia Short Stories 5, 2003)

Belonging and misplacement are well-known feelings, I believe. At some point in life everyone has experienced the sense of being in the right or wrong place, even if it is just at a party or a friend’s house, where you don´t feel comfortable or, on the contrary, almost like being at home. In the context of our seminar Indigenous Literature from New Zealand – Roots and Routes, we read several secondary texts and other works which discuss misplacement in Māori literature. However, one short story was especially fitting in my opinion for this seminar. “Transient”, written by Kelly Joseph, draws connections between the two main topics of roots and routes. The story specifies those concepts by pointing out that roots do not only refer to your origin but also may highlight a sense of misplacement at the same time.

Misplacement was one of the subtopics in our seminar, yet I must admit that, until we read “Transient”, I never really understood the extent of feeling lost or out of place. Kelly Joseph manages to convey the importance of belonging and roots as anchors within three short pages. She describes the journey of a young woman from Taranaki, wandering through the streets of Manhattan. On her way to the Metropolitan Museum, she encounters a homeless man and gives him some change. Inside the museum she wanders around without a map and comes across an empty waka huia. The protagonist cries for the ‘lost treasure’, which is “out of place in this foreign land” (p. 149). After the same homeless man from the beginning hands her a handkerchief, she makes the deliberate decision of booking a one-way ticket home.

When I started reading the short story, I found it quite sombre. As the first-person narrator describes the “thick humidity” and how “oppressive and disorientating” (p. 147) the setting of Manhattan seems, the reader is able to imagine what the protagonist means with the description of being crushed (cf. p. 147). However, the feeling of misplacement is especially noticeable on page 147, when the protagonist acknowledges: “Now I’m lost.” Further into the story, the protagonist emphasizes a lack of belonging or identification in the context of the “displaced objects” which appear “out of place in this foreign land” (p. 149).

As a teen, I always enjoyed trips to museums since they provided new insights to other cultures and historical periods which we did not experience ourselves. However, based on my undergraduate studies and particularly this seminar, I started to understand more and more that exhibiting objects of foreign cultures is an issue worth investigating further. I started to ponder: “Where do these objects come from?”, “Who gave the museum the right to exhibit it and not return it to its rightful place where it belongs?”. Even though these questions are not answered in the short story, it nevertheeless does provide us with enough insights to understand why we should look upon exhibited cultural objects with more care and consideration.

The perception of the protagonist is that the waka huia (like other exhibited objects) is “lost to its people” (p. 149). They belong to the culture of their people and are out of place in the foreign museum in which they are exhibited. This sense of belonging to a community is also highlighted earlier when she says: “[H]omesickness is not just a longing for a place; it’s a yearning for people” (p. 147). She herself feels like she does not belong where she is right now. As the protagonist and a human being, she has the choice of where she locates herself, even though it has taken her several years to realise the necessary actions she must take to feel at home again. The objects in the exhibition do not have the same sort of agency, which might be a reason for her tears when she grieves for the ‘lost objects’.

As I mentioned earlier, a homeless man hands her a handkerchief as she cries in front of the empty waka huia. This emptiness of the cultural object, which traditionally symbolizes relationships, can be seen as a mirror of the protagonist’s feeling of emptiness and misplacement. The homeless man is the only one who acknowledges her crying and takes action to ease her loneliness. Both characters are seen as outsiders to society, which leads to isolation and a lack of interactions with others. This isolation finds relief when the protagonist acknowledges her unwellness in the last sentence: “The following day I book a one-way ticket home.” Since it is a one-way ticket, it is clear that she does not have any intentions of straying too far from her roots any time soon again.

In the light of what I wrote earlier, more specifically the fact that I was not aware of the range which the sense of misplacement could reach, it is remarkable how thoroughly “Transient” points out and highlights the depth of feelings associated with misplacement and still offers me as the reader to interpret the short story based on my own individual experiences. Disorientating, lost, homesickness are all words that I now associate with this short story. Those words remind me that we belong somewhere, even if the process of realising takes us five years, just as the protagonist of Joseph’s story. However, just like the girl from Taranaki, we have the agency to lead our routes back to our roots. Towards the place where we feel like we belong.

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The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke – Book Review

Posted on 21. February 2022 by LaKo

“You only have one life in your possession, James. Why not make it of your most magnificent imagining?“

How do you go on when you’ve got no family member left and don’t know where you even belong? When you desperately want to change something about your life, but you don’t know what’s missing? These are only a few of the questions The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke picks up in much detail.

It was written by New Zealand novelist and creative writing teacher Tina Makereti, who has already won several prizes for her work, including the Royal Society of New Zealand Manhire Prize and the Ngā Kupu Ora Aotearoa Māori Book Award. Her books, essays and short stories often centre on Māori culture and identities.

What is the book about?

Her most recent novel, The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke, deals with the life and adventures of young James Pōneke, the son of a well-known Māori chief. In the beginning of the book, he loses first his mother and sister, then his father, and is raised by Christian missionaries. Later he abandons the mission and eventually finds a way back to his cultural roots by joining a group of Māori migrants – though still he is not at all satisfied with his life and is longing for a further education. When he meets a young English artist, he jumps at the opportunity and travels to London with him. There, James becomes the artist’s living exhibit at a museum and is offered an “English education”. He soon realises that people in Victorian London are way different from the people at home. During his adventures in the new city, he has to face multiple challenges, such as finding new friends and falling in love for the first time, dealing with multiple forms of racism, and seeking a sense of belonging.

How did I like the story?

I have to say that I enjoyed the characters very much. James is an adventurous, warm-hearted boy who wants to see the world, which is a character trait I can very much relate to. I loved the fact that he had the courage to leave his homeland behind in order to find his true self in a whole new country. But his best friend Billy really was my favourite character in this story.  He gives James the opportunity to just be himself and makes London another home for him. He sees James for who he is, without judging him in any way. Also, I liked his enthusiasm and honesty. Their friendship was so pure and sincere.

Though I enjoyed the characters, I can’t entirely say the same thing about the plot. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the way it was written and the message it conveyed: to let your fears behind and live the life you want to live. The quote I put on top of this text was by far one of my favourites and really shows that it’s up to you what kind of life you live and that it depends on the decisions you make. There were many text passages like this where I felt very inspired and just loved Makereti’s style of writing. It really made me think about my own life in a certain way. However, even though the characters were beautifully developed, I sometimes had the feeling that there’s not much happening in this story. It was interesting to experience Europe through James’s eyes but at the same time, I wished that there was a little more “drama”. Especially during the middle part of the book, I sometimes had a hard time going on reading as there wasn’t much happening. 

My conclusion

Summing up I can say that I enjoyed the writing style very much. There were so many text passages that left me wondering and thinking about my own decisions and the meaning of my life. Especially I wondered if I am living MY magnificent imagining or if there’s something I would want to change.  Also, I kept thinking about the fact whether I could have been as brave as James was in all those dangerous situations he encountered.

I generally recommend the book to anyone who is interested in Māori culture and the way of life back in 19th century. Even though the book had its lengths from time to time, I still liked reading all about James’s story and desperately wanted to know whether he’d find his place of belonging in the world. Now it’s your turn to find out! For me, The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke is a good 3,5/5 stars.

Makereti, Tina. 2018. The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke. New Zealand: Penguin Random House (ISBN: 978-1-78563-153-5)

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Book Review: The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke by Tina Makereti

Posted on 20. February 2022 by myrnagoe

The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke by Tina Makereti tells the story of a young Māori orphan boy, James Pōneke, who has a great desire for education and to see the world.

James, who is partially raised by missionaries, meets an English artist in New Zealand and follows him to London to be a living part of his exhibition.

James quickly finds a connection in the artist’s family. During the day he is at the artist’s disposal and presents himself in traditional tribal dress to gallery visitors, who scrutinize him and do not always make a secret of their disapproval of the Indigenous population. At night, James meets his friends (who include the sailor Billy and his lover Henry, or Henrietta, who only walks around in men’s clothes because of her own freedom) and discovers the neighborhoods of Victorian London.

When I started reading the book, I was almost shocked by the sadness and cruelty. And yet, the author manages to transfer the protagonist’s hope to the reader.

Tina Makereti manages to give young James a childlike naivety without it ever seeming annoying to the reader while reading the book. I could always understand the naivety and the hope that the protagonist has at the different stages of his journey, despite all the setbacks.

“Like the others who were now fitted awkwardly into the tribe, I was tolerated, and given work to do, and allowed to participate as long as I was useful. But my position was humble. I wasn’t angered by this. I did not belong to these people. If I were to follow custom, the best I could do was marry one of them to ensure my own children could claim a place.“

(Chapter 4)

Here, the boy James’ search for his identity is introduced and clarified early in the book. Even in a new tribe he finds no real place, he finds no belonging.

The boy’s search for belonging and home touched me very much while reading. His apparent acceptance of the intolerance of his environment is both confusing and sad. And yet the author manages to give him a tiny bit of hope.

Tina Makereti makes sure to project feelings and images onto the reader’s mind with her readable, metaphorical writing style. For example, James’ feelings are expressed metaphorically when he visits the zoo in London with his hosts and discovers a tiger in one of the cages.

“There were no kings in the cages I saw — only poorly looking creatures with scruffy coats.“

(Chapter 7)

The striking description could be applied to James himself, who is also restricted by the displays of his origins in the artist’s exhibition and the many hostilities of London’s residents.

The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke takes you along emotionally and it is an absolutely worthwhile read which includes themes such as friendship, freedom, family, home, belonging and identity.

I think that it is a great novel in the historical fiction genre which can also provide a good introduction to Māori literature.

Tina Makereti’s novel was first published in 2018, has 256 pages and is available as e-book (ISBN 978-1-78563-154-2) for less than 5€.

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