Tag Archives: Roots and Routes

“You take and take, but you cannot take from who we are” – “Raupatu” by Alien Weaponry

Posted on by alwaw100
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In this blog post, I would like to discuss a slightly unorthodox form of cultural remembrance.

“Raupatu” is the second single released by Alien Weaponry, a metal band from Aotearoa whose songs are mostly performed in Te Reo and occasionally accompanied by traditional instruments and historical recordings.

Despite their debut album’s namesake being Tū, the god of war, other topics ranging from expressions of personal feelings to the remembrance of one’s roots to addressing problems within modern lifestyles (like social media addiction in “Nobody Here”) can be found as well, with their musical style caught somewhere between extremely rhythmic thrash metal and more melodic groove metal.

[Māori:][English translation:]
Nā te Tiriti
Te tino, tino rangatiratanga
O o ratou whenua
Tino, tino rangatiratanga
O ratou kainga
Tino rangatiratanga
Me o ratou taonga katoa		Accorded by the Treaty
The full possession and chiefly authority
Over their lands
Full possession and chiefly authority
Over their communities
Full possession and chiefly authority
Over all things of value to them
Translation included in closed captions

Raupatu can be translated as “conquest” or “confiscation”, generally carrying the connotation of an unjust acquisition according to Māori ownership rules. Specifically, this song refers to the NZ colonial government signing the New Zealand Settlements Act in 1863, thereby breaching a previous treaty meant to guarantee Māori ownership of ancestral lands in Te Ika-a-Māui (North Island), which in turn resulted, among other things, in the systematic occupation of Taranaki during the Second Taranaki War and the demise of many Māori villages. However, this verse covers more than just land as the treaty from Māori perspective was supposed to guarantee autonomy and “chiefly authority over all things of value” as well. In conjunction with the last verse, this song points to a disparity between colonial land-grabbing and the Māori desire to protect their homes.

[Māori:][English translation:]
Waikato Awa
He piko, he taniwha
Kingi Tawhiao
Me Wiremu Tamihana
Ki Rangiriri e tū ana
Ko Te Whiti o Rongomai
Ki Parihaka e noho ana
Raupatu!		The Waikato river
On every bend a mighty war chief
King Tawhiao
And Wiremu Tamihana
Made a stand at Rangiriri
Te Whiti o Rongomai
Held fast at Parihaka
Confiscated!
Translation included in closed captions

Remembering their roots was an important topic for the brothers Henry Te Reiwhati and Lewis Raharuhi de Jong when growing up, listening to the various stories tied to the surrounding landscapes. These stories ultimately served as inspiration to form the band and write about both the past and the present in Aotearoa. “Raupatu” revives King Tawhiao, Wiremu Tamihana and the passive resistance led by Te Whiti o Rongomai through powerful lyrics, guitar riffs and relentless drums. Once again are Rangiriri, Pukehinahina, Taurangaika and Parihaka turned into battlefields. While not as elegant as a poem, this musical genre certainly seems fit to retell Māori history.

[Māori:][English translation:]
Raupatu… Rangiriri
Raupatu… Pukehinahina
Raupatu… Taurangaika
Raupatu… Parihaka

You take and take
But you cannot take from who we are
You cannot take our mana
You cannot take our māoritanga
You cannot take our people
You cannot take our whakapapa
You cannot take, you cannot take
Raupatu!		Confiscated… Rangiriri
Confiscated… Pukehinahina
Confiscated… Taurangaika
Confiscated… Parihaka

You take and take
But you cannot take from who we are
You cannot take our dignity
You cannot take our cultural identity
You cannot take our people
You cannot take our family heritage
You cannot take, you cannot take
Raupatu!
Translation included in closed captions

Various tribes lost their homes and villages in the 19th century wars in Aotearoa. The lands were confiscated. And yet, their language and history keep them rooted. A powerful and important message especially for the bandmembers themselves. As Lewis Raharuhi de Jong once said in an interview with the Guardian: “Māori aren’t treated the same as others in New Zealand and, until that changes, we’re not finished.”

The usage of English in the last verse can act as a bridge, connecting modern Māori with their own history, confronting Pākehā with the aftermath of imperialism, but also explaining the conflict to the otherwise unfamiliar outsider. Anglophone listeners will at the very least understand the broader theme of confiscations and identity, even if they don’t understand the stanzas sung in Te Reo.

Language barriers, however, don’t seem to be an issue judging by their growing popularity outside of the Polynesian cultural sphere. Their performance at the Copenhell festival saw up to 6.000 metal fans perform a haka (as far as that is possible in a crowded space) with guidance from haka teacher and HAKAPEOPLE CEO Kane Harnett-Mutu. An event surprising not only the organisers, but also the band itself. And those who want to bend the barrier a bit further will find translated lyrics throughout the internet.

“Raupatu” – and Alien Weaponry’s musical style in general – might not exactly be suitable for mainstream radio stations, yet I would assume that even without a strong affinity for metal music, their works can be enjoyed and appreciated. If not on account of style, then at the very least on account of substance.
Judging by their appearance on Metal Hammer’s cover with the tag line “meet the future of metal”, the band certainly has found their place in metal’s vast genealogy – and it will be exciting to see how many future musicians take inspirations from this band.

“Raupatu” written by Henry Te Reiwhati de Jong, Lewis Raharuhi de Jong and Ethan Trembath
Translation provided by Alien Weaponry themselves.

Translation included in closed captions


Lyrics (Includes Translation)
Bandcamp
Official Website

Also relevant:
https://teara.govt.nz/en/zoomify/36535/raupatu-confiscated-lands

Kia Mau Ki Tō Ūkaipō – Don’t forget your roots, my friend…

Posted on by daber111
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Calling all Kiwis and music lovers! And no, I am not talking about the fruit, but rather about Aoteoroa/ New Zealand, since this blog entry focuses on the music of this country’s biggest reggae rock fusion band Six60. 

The single “Don’t Forget Your Roots“ of the five-member band from Dunedin was released in 2011 and reached number 2 on the New Zealand Singles Charts. In the past decade, this song has become somewhat of a ‘Kiwi anthem’.

The 2011 release, however, is not where the evolution and importance of the song ends. In September 2019, Six60 released a new Māori version: “Kia Mau Ki Tō Ūkaipō / Don’t Forget Your Roots“ in the collection Waiata / Anthems of re-recorded New Zealand pop songs to promote Te Wiki o te Reo Māori (Māori Language Week).

In the chorus of this song, Six60 reminds the listener of how important it is to remember our own roots, since they include our family and friends, but also our inner self – what we truly are: “the ones who made us – brought us here”. It deals with the idea of Indigenous heritage and identity and why you should be thankful and proud of it. Neglecting these roots easily leads to them being lost.

To further highlight the importance of what is said in the chorus, Six60 introduces a man (Johnny) and a woman (Jesse), who both are detached from their roots in Aotearoa after leaving their home which “armed them with power”. This results in them being lost in two ways: 1. They lack Māori values and morals and 2. the connection to their roots and their whānau (family), who are the only people that truly matter, becomes tenuous. Overall, both experience a disconnection from their origin. They are displaced and have lost their sense of belonging by leaving their homeland. The concept of loss applies to the man and woman as individuals, but also to their community – “He/She lost the faith of all those who mattered so…” Additionally, Six60 conveys a combination of nostalgia and homesickness with the simple words: “Don’t forget your roots…”

But only if no return is intended.

Representing Māori culture through music and language

Even though the band members all have Māori roots, they did not grow up with the language or culture, yet feel deeply connected to it. Their intention of releasing the song in Māori was to learn more about their culture and understand their origin – their roots. They wanted to provide a song of familiar lyrics that communicates their culture using Te Reo.

But why is music so important to remember your roots?

Well, wherever you are, in New Zealand or overseas, the distinctive sounds used in songs such as “Kia Mau Ki Tō Ūkaipō“ can conjure up images of home. Translating popular songs from English to Māori can deepen empathy and provides a solution for the absence of communication between Māori and non-Māori by encouraging discourse. Embracing Māori culture, the waka, the whānau – community and music can convey heritage and is a start to help non-Māori engage with the language and culture. At the same time, it is dangerous to base one’s understanding of a foreign culture solely on one song, since Maori offer a diverse culture with many traditions and also contradictions.

My personal connection to the song goes back almost to its initial release. I first visited a Six60 concert in 2012 in German. When the band sang “Don’t Forget Your Roots”, those who were Māori in the audience, all far away from home, started a haka. It first got me thinking about the connection between music and culture. Whenever I listen to the song now, it also reminds me of my time spent abroad and the people I met. 

And as the Covid-19 pandemic continues, friends and family remain apart from one another as we understand the importance of connecting, which includes doing it through Te Reo Māori.

At a concert in 2020, Six60 further combined the song’s new version with a performance of the haka, making the concert uniquely New Zealand by giving the crowd a taste of the country’s distinct Indigenous culture. Now they do it at every single concert worldwide on tour to reconnect with their homeland. Additionally, singing the song is a reminder for them that even if they are on the other side of the world, when they return to Aoteoroa the following quote:

 i haere Māori atu, i hoki Māori mai

I left as a Māori, and I have returned as a Māori

applies to them.

To me this performance combined with the haka is filled with a celebration of the Māori culture since the Māori performers get the opportunity to proudly present their traditions and language on a big stage – it cuts through that fear of not being able to express and give Māori back their sovereignty by pushing the unspoken tension between Māori and non-Māori to the side and saying: here is a place for all to gather, unite and sing. Including Te Reo Māori and the haka, therefore, can enrich New Zealand’s music scene and empower national athletes, but some songs also engage worldwide audiences. Embracing the language should be as simple as not forgetting one’s roots … or family.

In an interview, the front singer of Six60 Matiu Walters stated that he noticed more understanding of the culture and an acceptance of songs in Māori especially in New Zealand, which has been a good thing to see. He further suggests that it is something the band helped push by redoing their song in Māori. The translation followed the dream to make Māori music in future not only usable for a political purpose or for social currency but also for the daily and ordinary life.

This is exactly what the band is doing with their new song “Pepeha“, which deals with their personal experience of learning about their actual pepeha – the way of introducing yourself in Māori. It tells people who you are by sharing your connections with the people and places that are important to you. By writing the song, the band was able to acknowledge and further explore their heritage. It helped them connect to their whakapapa and whenua. A pepeha shows their connection to the physical and spiritual place they call home. This anthemic waiata links significant things – prestige, love, and family – with their environment and to their ancestors.

Matiu Walters said they wanted to try to write a pepeha for all New Zealanders, whether you were born there, or you moved there and decided to make Aotearoa your home.

He further stated that the goal of their music is to always transcend any categories and have it all “feeling-based” since it’s what they like about music: It makes you feel a certain way and you can succumb to that feeling and forget about everything else, all the small things in life and just go along with the song.

However, there are a couple of critical voices on the band’s use of music and Te Reo as a way of public reconnection arguing that songs such as “Pepeha“ disregard the sanctity of cultural practices and do not consider the right translation nor provide the listener with the deep meaning Māori terms can carry.

Would you agree with the critics? Let me know in the comments!

Book Review: Cousins by Patricia Grace

Posted on by yekah101
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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.

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

Posted on by Leonie John
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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.

The Imaginary Lives of James Pōneke

Posted on by aileena99
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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.

Book Review of Patricia Grace’s Cousins

Posted on by amera
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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.

Home and Uprooting in Kelly Joseph’s “Transient”

Posted on by jomit100
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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.

Misplacement in Kelly Joseph’s “Transient”

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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.

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

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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€.