Potiki (Talanoa: Contemporary Pacific Literature, 10)

I had a hard time reading this book -- there were parts of it that I found lyrical & compelling (like the introduction, and many of the chapters narrated by toko) and parts that seemed very heavy-handed (especially the telling of the history of protests over land that had been claimed by the gov't during wartime and the chapters narrated by hemi). Especially early in the book I found it easy to set it aside for periods of time, but I got more engaged as I got to the second section.One major weakness is that there's no glossary or translation of any of the Maori terms, so it's a much more difficult read for someone who is trying to become more familiar with the people and culture than someone who already is.

This is a wonderful read. I haven't read much literature from New Zealand nor about the Maori culture. This was a great place to start. The writing is really fabulous and the characters really engaging. The book was bought to read while touring around New Zealand for the first time. It was a really nice confluence of reading a great novel and trying to imagine it happening in the place I was traveling.

A really great story about Maori traditions, and the value of homeland (even when Pakeha are trying to offer you money so they can build a strip mall and a resort on your land). Uses various elements of storytelling, oral tradition, and magical realism to create a read that I couldn't put down.

Beautiful.

I can't recall when I've ever felt so strongly the musical rhythm of an author's style, or the extent to which it changes to suit the tempo of the action and themes. In the first third of this wonderful book by a very talented writer, conversations between the simple Mary and Granny Tamihana, the guardian of Maori traditions, echo and sound like chants; between Roimata and Hemi, a happily married couple, they resemble duets with complimentary themes. The scene in which Mary gives birth is a grand, complex chorus with the several family members singing over, around, and above each other as they fight for the narrative line. Toko's story of his big fish is a soaring aria which ventures into a mystical realm, for Toko is a seer. And all this music seems totally appropriate to the lives of these Maori characters living in harmony with the land and their ancestors.The middle third of the book changes, as Hemi, the father of the family, abruptly introduces the harsh notes of reality which occur when "the works" closes down, and he and his friends find themselves unemployed. In mournful tones he comments on the loss of tradition, language, and connection to the land which are coming about as education is imposed on their children by outside authorities, and people such as himself accept outside jobs. Their very existence as a group is also threatened by developers who want to buy their land to put up hotels, build seaside parks where visitors can play with the dolphins and whales, and commercialize the lifestyle these Maori have enjoyed all their lives.In the final third of the book, as the Maoris fight for their land, the staccato, simple language is like the harsh beat of a war drum, and the songs disappear from the language, not returning until the rebuilding of the sacred house and the funeral of a key character bring about harmony and poetry once again.It is hard to imagine that Patricia Grace did not deliberately tailor her prose style to her subject matter, yet this seems so completely natural--so totally without artifice--that one wonders if this harmony of words and subject might be the ultimate, triumphant example of the unity of story and life which she so vividly celebrates in this memorable and touching novel. Mary Whipple

Like another reviewer from Hawai'i, I also read this book in a Pacific Island literature class. What could have easily become a story about white man's exploitation of the Maori people and the environment (and I'm okay with that kind of story too), was instead turned into a glimpse inside the Polynesian mind and set of values. The sections most unsettling to us Caucasians -- those on the mystical aspects of the wood carvings -- relate much about the way the Polynesian views the past, as being in front of them, something to learn from. And we learn that what we regard as "ancestor worship" is really a matter of valuing those who have cared for the land and passed it on to us, along with the knowledge of how to live on it. We're also shown the value of stories: This book is told as a collection of the stories of many persons, each of whom has a unique perspective, something a little different to tell. Some stories are pragmatic, some we would term "mystical," but they too contain a valid warning.This book probably did more than any ever -- fiction or non-fiction, and I'm a voracious reader -- to help me understand Polynesian values, which are basically the same values as those of indigenous peoples all over the world -- care for the land, respect the ancestors, listen to others' stories. Our planet desperately needs indigenous values!

A very good read, especially if you are from NZ.