So this book is pretty ridiculous. The plot is completely predictable, the cult seems to have been written by someone who spent a couple of hours googSo this book is pretty ridiculous. The plot is completely predictable, the cult seems to have been written by someone who spent a couple of hours googling about cults*, the writing is straightforward and generally uninspiring, the characters all speak like they know they are characters. It is also utterly unputdownable. I read this book first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. I read it in 5-minute loo queues on my phone, and it is responsible for making me have a 70-minute bath because I didn't want to leave it long enough to turn the taps off and dry myself (it was, to be fair, a very nice bath). I can't tell you why - even though it is completely clear what is going to happen, you still want to keep reading to realise the tension - the pacing is superb - and the landscape is well drawn. I can't say I've thought about the book since I finished it with anything other than vague irritation, but while the glow lasted it was wonderful.
** I'd picked the book up because I'm always up for a good discussion about belief systems, and cults make for particularly interesting ones. It's not that Norman has the basic elements wrong, but it is too pat, too soulless, for this to feel real. Some elements are wrong - the rapidity with which the alienation from her family occurs - and the quick money transfer - is far too risky to be realistic at this point. The group's obliviousness to law enforcement (and the strangely nonexistent immigration controls) etc etc. But mostly it was that the ideas never came alive - and perhaps there is not enough challenge to the view of her British family as 'normal'. In the end, the book always sees the cultists as crazies, which limits insight (and gives us a group not worth believing in). Also honestly, no cult is *that* textbook....more
I read this book alongside Katherine Mansfield's New Zealand Stories, one story from each anthology a day for 10 days while on holiday in New Zealand.I read this book alongside Katherine Mansfield's New Zealand Stories, one story from each anthology a day for 10 days while on holiday in New Zealand. It wasn't so much a deliberate choice, as these were just two authors I liked who had anthologies of stories set in NZ, but it became impossible not to read them in dialogue a little.Partly because the structures and style are so similar. Both focus on specificity to build worlds that explain a society to an unfamiliar audience. Mansfield uses this to evoke a still-pretty-colonial New Zealand, a world transitioning from wannabe-English to something-else. Ihimaera, however, uses this to throw a joyous window on a society which is right next to those who don't see it - literally next door in one of the stories. In using the techniques and style of writers like Mansfield, he is pushing New Zealand literature to represent Aotearoa too, his stories were written for those who have never saw their world in print, and for those whose worldview wasn't broad enough to see. They are tremendous fun. Previous to this, my exposure to Ihimaera's work has been book length. The emotionalism that tinges his work works brilliantly in this format, adding punch to the stories without becoming cloying. There is tragedy here, but it is never depressing or alienating. Instead, the stories welcome the reader in with humour, usually self-deprecating, and the passion of the narrator substitute moderates the intended message of lost knowledge. With this much pride, how could things fade forever? Each morning, I found myself itching to read my installment, well over Mansfield, whose mannered stories I used to love. But this world - while not always as technically proficient - felt more real to me, more suffused with life, and definitely more relevant to the country I was visiting....more
It's an incredibly skillful novel, this one, managing to be both an easy read and incredibly disturbing, and from a quick glance at the reviews, able It's an incredibly skillful novel, this one, managing to be both an easy read and incredibly disturbing, and from a quick glance at the reviews, able to be read as either an endorsement of colonialism, or a post-post-colonial critique. I suspect the way a reader responds to it is also going to be governed by how they feel about Great Expectations. In my case, I've read it twice, never loved it the way I did Tale of Two Cities and Oliver. In Mister Pip, Great Expectations represents the power of stories, to escape, to develop empathy, to reimagine what you can do. They also acknowledge its limitations, as nothing in Dickens can protect Matilda. It is interesting to see that some people read this as the great white males rescuing the savages, as that racist trope wasn't what I saw in the book. Instead I saw the jarring nature of British literature, a world so far from island life, as a failure. It isn't that island culture doesn't have stories, many are told in the classroom within a book, but the world of the adults is too hard for them to reach the children. But at the same time, the book raises the idea of whose stories are seen as 'normal', and the experience of literature telling you your world is other. Mr Watts, with one trick, breaks through to the children but is quickly revealed to be just as human, out of his depth, and capable of terrible pride as the others. It is a tricky novel - a white male author assuming the voice of Bougainvilliean girl; in a book set in a society in deep collapse and war. My reading is also coloured, no doubt, by my background knowledge of the mine, the civil war and the role of Australia and NZ in the various aspects of the conflict. This book is, at the end of the day, a savage indictment of what happened to Bougainville, and how you feel about that might depend largely on the context you bring in....more
An exhaustive, if somewhat dry, history of the Ngai Tahu in the NZ's south island. Anderson uses oral traditions, including but not limited to wakapapAn exhaustive, if somewhat dry, history of the Ngai Tahu in the NZ's south island. Anderson uses oral traditions, including but not limited to wakapapa traditions, and written accounts from Europeans, sprinkled with a little archaeology, to reconstruct a relatively linear series of events. Anderson arranges this tightly, starting with pre-European arrival histories of conflict and expansion, moving on through chapters covering economy and food source arrangements, and then others looking at integration of new technologies and ideas. This tight structure results in some very dense chapters, with similar information packed next to each other, seperated by time, hapu or region. However, the information itself is very rich, and Anderson is careful to explain the provenance and methodology of his conclusions, allowing for an understanding of doubts. While this is a work firmly in an academic tradition, Anderson places strong emphasis on Maori knowledge in constructing his history. I was once again struck by the elements of evolution and adaptation that seem part of a culture that is comfortable with change (within a clear cultural framework of course). Maori culture is built upon tales of journey, expansion and adaptation, so I guess it makes sense that these elements should be so present in initial reactions to the appearance of new peoples. The early development of mutton birding cultures using new kinds of ship transfers; adoption of Christian elements etc were all interesting in this regard. The detail on food collection behaviours, particularly the differences between the northern part of the (South) island and the southern were fascinating. The heavier emphasis on seasonal food sources in the south seemed to have significant cultural implications as well. I noted in Tangata Whenua that Anderson referred to this division as windward and leeward, and it did take a bit of puzzling to sort it out. I found much of the material on the late 18th/19th century wars distressing, hardly surprisingly. Anderson does balance the accounts of brutal civilian massacres with explanations about the tactics used by other leaders to avoid bloodshed. It is all too easy in any historical account to focus on the human capacity for intense cruelty, and not our equal capacity to resist it....more
I've been delaying writing a review for this book, simply because it is so big, so dense and so diverse it is hard to know where to start - which is aI've been delaying writing a review for this book, simply because it is so big, so dense and so diverse it is hard to know where to start - which is a shame, because if you only want to read one book on New Zealand, this for sure is it. Only really, it is two books: Tangata Whenua: An Illustrated History is a large, gorgeous coffee table book, and Tangata Whenua is the ebook/paperbook version. I started, as is my wont, on the ebook; but ended up borrowing the hardback so I could see the detailed illustrations, charts etc. I kept switching between the two, ebook with handy text lookup feature in my hand, large book with illustrations resting on my knees, for the three weeks it took me to read the whole thing. For that reason, I'm posting this review in both versions of the book. The book has three sections. The first - all attributed to Atholl Anderson - deals with pre 1830 history, starting with the debates over origins of the Polynesian peoples, which are covered in some depth. This was much more up to date than anything I had found before, and the depth and clarity (and the many maps of possible migration routes, cultural influences etc) was alone worthy of a five star book review. It is primarily a post-Enlightenment science perspective, with content around Maori beliefs about Hawaiki covered fairly briefly. A big strength, however, is the detailed use of whakapapa genealogy, and an explanation of how these can be married to an academic framework relatively easily. Or to put it another way, a defence of the accuracy of this primarily oral history information to chronology. Anderson also takes a somewhat provocative view, arguing that just because Polynesians had access to the components of technology that could have travelled vast distances, this doesn't mean that they used it that way, but he covers the majority opinion (that they did) compellingly nevertheless.The second part covers the first century of Pakeha settlement from 1820 through 1920, with the late Judith Binney as primary author. This section was slightly more personality based, perhaps, and travels through movements and individuals, while telling a familiar but depressing story of land sometimes honestly purchased, but more often stolen by some combination of deception and force, the subsequent wars and rapid shift in population balance. It was startingly to realise how - in comparison to Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait cultures - fluid Maori culture can be. To see, in particular, how different Maori leaders and communities took ideas from Christianity which were relevant to them, and created something new from this, challenges a simplistic view of Maori cultural destruction by all powerful missions. Embedded within Maori worldviews is the celebration of innovation, discovery and travel. Ideas about peace and opposition to slavery are taken into a different framework entirely. Parihaka is absolutely fascinating in this sense, the non-violent resistance movement Gandhi studied, which came from a distinctly Maori worldview, and challenges simplistic interpretations of a "warlike people". At the same time, the history of how every scheme developed to more 'fairly' manage Maori land eventually ends up being used to take it away is immensely depressing reading, a triumph of market greed and settlement hunger for land over any individuals attempt at respectful negotiation.The final section - with primary author Aroha Harris - looks at 1920 through to 2014, much of which is occupied by a struggle within New Zealand society for recognition of Waitangi, and how to create a society which lives it's central agreement and premise. The history of Maori Affairs, the growth of both parliamentary and extra parliamentary movements, and the impact of migrations and changing employment patterns are all covered. Cultural, literary and artistic movements get a look in, and a sense of society groping towards a new identity permeates. The book finishes with an excellent appendix of statistics - much more readable on the ebook I must say rather than in the reduced size type of the main book.I can't recommend this highly enough - I am seriously considering purchasing the coffee table book simply for future reference. The illustrations are more than simply pretty - they are primary objects, references and knowledge that will stand long after the analysis shifts. They invite a reader to think for themselves about Tangata Whenua, and allow the objects, the illustrations and the faces in the portraits to speak direct. ...more
This was the second of two Ngaio Marsh novels I read while on holiday in New Zealand. After the thoroughly disappointing Vintage Murder, Colour SchemeThis was the second of two Ngaio Marsh novels I read while on holiday in New Zealand. After the thoroughly disappointing Vintage Murder, Colour Scheme was a real surprise. This book is barely an Alleyn novel, but it is a tense mystery. The mystery isn't peripheral to what the book has to say, it is at the centre of it. This is a tightly written novel about a moment in time when class, race and colonial tensions boil over into debates about war and loyalty. Unlike Vintage Murder, the book's aging makes it more, not less relevant. A modern audience understands the crime involved in theft of Maori culture differently to the characters (and author) for example, but this gives shading and depth to the responses of the Maori community, and to the colonial dismissal of that response. This world is so well drawn, it feels real, and the concerns at the heart of it compelling. A well worthwhile read....more
What better way to relax on a New Zealand holiday than by catching up on possibly the first New Zealand I read: Dame Ngaio Marsh whose novels I consumWhat better way to relax on a New Zealand holiday than by catching up on possibly the first New Zealand I read: Dame Ngaio Marsh whose novels I consumed in my tween years, along with Agatha Christie and Margery Allingham. I thought I might read the books set in NZ in order, which put Vintage Murder first. Unfortunately, Vintage Murder is just not a very good book. There are elements here of the things I remember loving: Alleyn's romanticism; a love of language; and a sense of a lost world. A sequence of Alleyn puzzling out the various antipodean meanings of Crook was gold. But the plot plods along, with a resolution that is more irrelevant than predictable, not playing off the main themes. The sense of another world is definitely there, but the book also hasn't aged with grace, and the characters interactions are dense, and their language impenetrable at times. Instead of feeling that timeless sense of human nature, these people feel very specifically of their milieu and time, and less important perhaps as a consequence. Overall, it was a disheartening experience and much too much work for a holiday novel. Thankfully, the instalment went much better....more
This book is many things at once: an introduction for non-Maori to values and worldview of Maori; a guide to key concepts such as tapu, mana, wairua aThis book is many things at once: an introduction for non-Maori to values and worldview of Maori; a guide to key concepts such as tapu, mana, wairua and mauri; a practical guide to implementing tikanga; a discussion of interpretation in a changing world, and a text for those who need a high level of cultural competency. Mead specifies that this is intended for those with English, rather than Te Reo, as the primary language, but within that, there is much for many audiences. The package together has clearly made a strong contribution to living culture, and the survival of tikanga Maori. This also makes for a pretty readable book. For sure, there are long passages discussing, for example, the tikanga surrounding grief, or at the other end of the scale, genetic modification of food, but these are put within a context of a broader worldview. The tone is always respectful of both Maori and Pakeha, inviting and enthused without getting preachy. Detailed explanations, for example, of the danger and sacred nature of tapu helps to explain the nature of many tikanga. The book is nearly 20 years old now, although revisions were made about a decade ago. It is not as dated as could be expected, although frequent references to the Te Maori exhibition date it slightly. It would be great to see a new edition noting the increasing bicultural policy impact in New Zealand....more
The downside of being a foundational text is that readers coming late to you may feel like they've heard it all before. I really looked forward to reaThe downside of being a foundational text is that readers coming late to you may feel like they've heard it all before. I really looked forward to reading this book, but was surprised by how much of it - both the facts and the viewpoint - was familiar. I did learn some things - notably that the British seriously considered using a terra nullius-style justification for annexing New Zealand before deciding Waitangi was a stronger case for legitimacy - but this felt largely like filling in gaps around the edges.None of which belies the power of the book. The story of Waitangi is a winding one: a treaty in two versions arguably intended more as a pacification than a negotiated agreement, never signed by many of those it is considered binding on. Orange explains this myriad of effects, ambiguities and pathways of meaning clearly, thoroughly and yet at a clip. While originally published in the 1980s, the inclusion of substantial - not token - material on the modern meaning of the treaty and the settlement of old claims makes it a work which both interprets history and considers what it means to contemporary society. As my country continues to discuss the need for a treaty, there are lessons here aplenty in what does and doesn't work to reconcile differing societies and past injustice. For all its faults, which are many, the existence of the Waitangi treaty has given both Maori and Pakeha a framework to understand some dispossession, and what has been lost. Even the flaws - differing understandings and translations of sovereignty - provide the basis for a conversation about what might be. In this way, this should be better understood well beyond NZ itself....more
This is a book largely concerned with ensuring the strongest possible case for the author's thesis has been made. It is much more focused on this thanThis is a book largely concerned with ensuring the strongest possible case for the author's thesis has been made. It is much more focused on this than on the actual thesis - to the point where I'm not really sure the book had one. Rather, there is meticulous detail on dating techniques, and other methodologies. The strengths and weaknesses of each are thoroughly covered. Geological knowns and unknowns are also covered in some detail. The next forty percent of the book is occupied by outlining what catastrophic events probably happened, with much due attention to various alternate explanations for the evidence record. Frankly, by the time I got to the last 10% of the book discussing what impacts these might have had on people, I was exhausted. As a piece of scholarship, it seems stupendous - and I do really hope McFadgen's work is supported. As a book, well, I just didn't think it worked. I learned quite a lot about dating techniques, which was the last thing I expected, and quite a bit about volcanic processes, but not much at all about Maori responses to catastrophe. Goes in the shouldhavegivenup category....more
I read this book alongside Witi Ihimaera's Pounamu Pounamu, one story from each anthology a day for 10 days while on holiday in New Zealand. Given thiI read this book alongside Witi Ihimaera's Pounamu Pounamu, one story from each anthology a day for 10 days while on holiday in New Zealand. Given this, it is impossible to separate entirely my thoughts, as the two volumes bounced against each other. Mansfield's stories wouldn't have been written with a New Zealand audience in mind as the primary audience. By the time these were written, she was based in the UK, and her literary audience was English and European. The first thing that struck me is that they are softer, less sharp, than I remembered her style. Infused at times with nostalgia, they make lovely holiday reading as the world of a colonial Wellington comes to life as a kind of perpetual childhood or adolescence. The sharpness when it comes is largely humorous, the stories make you sigh and laugh more than cry. But Mansfield's strengths here are in the specificity of her world-building, and hence her interior worlds. Her characters are definitely of New Zealand in a time and place - between the wars - and she explores the nature of colonial life. The changing social distinctions that is so peculiar to societies which inherited British class structures without big enough populations to keep the classes isolated, for example. Her women are stifled, but this is moderated by the freedom represented by lush native species, and the possibility of flirtation and passion beyond the expected. Her children, the most personally drawn, are both neglected and deliriously happy in their freedom, an odd mix of nostalgia and critique which is a pleasure to read. Reading alongside Ihimaera, however, I was so much more conscious of how narrow the view is. The middle-class families she is preoccupied with relate to how they are seen by the old country, or officials, or the wealthy, but little to how they impact the Maori peoples whose land they are living on, or even the working class surrounding them. This is a peon to a moment in time of great transition, but it is missing half the story....more
Like many Australians, I read both Frame's autobiography, and some of her fiction as a teenager. While the fiction never spoke to me, I fell in love wLike many Australians, I read both Frame's autobiography, and some of her fiction as a teenager. While the fiction never spoke to me, I fell in love with Frame's direct, intimate voice in her biography. I felt intensely strongly about her brilliance and our connection for at least three weeks. Thirty years later, I approached a reread with some trepidation, fearful the experience would, in that way that so often happens, corrupt the memory of that intense enjoyment. Which, of course, it kinda did, but not necessarily in a bad way. The books are eminently readable. Frame's writing here is accessible, and that intimate, self-critical voice still makes it feel like you are being let in on secrets, creating an personal bond. But I found myself much more at a distance. It was an initial shock to realise how long ago so much of this happened, and the impact of depression, then war, then the boom years on Frame's experiences. Her climb to writerhood takes place at a time of cultural explosion, and change in both colonial attitudes and social mores. Her captivity in the mental health system comes again at a time of enormous change in medical practice - including the enthusiasm for radical surgeries previously impossible and later understood to be a bad idea - and social expectation. So many of her experiences and attitudes are shaped by mid-century kiwi working class life. It mystified me somewhat that I - with such different experiences (and much less hardships, frankly) could have felt such strong connection. Without that connection, I found myself drifting into boredom occasionally. The relatively straightforward format of the writing started to pall - and I found myself trying to recall the slightly surreal edge of her fiction, and starting to yearn to switch to reading the books whose creation I was reading about (to be fair, I was reading all three volumes in a row). Frame's use of language is so specific and I wanted to see it do more interesting things. In terms of the arc, the content detailing her treatments for mental health issues - firstly for schizophrenia, and then for the trauma created by her time in mental institutions - was historically fascinating. It is a whiplash journey from New Zealand, where patients were deliberately isolated from nurses (who were instructed not to talk to the patients) and psychiatrists (who generally visited twice - once on intake, once on discharge) to Britain, where a non-citizen patient with no diagnoses is able to stay for months voluntarily, has assistance with financial and living arrangements, and lots and lots of talking therapy. Some of this may be coloured by Frame's own memory and emotional experiences, it also illustrates how advances in medical expertise could travel slowly to the colonies. It was also a sharp reminder of the glory days of the NHS, and the sheer difference that a solid medical system aimed at assisting without cost can transform a society. And how far from it we have moved. I was also engaged by the colonial experience of growing up with literature which creates a normal that bears no resemblance to yours. I may have grown up 40 years later, but I also had an imaginative world dotted with oak trees and nightingales; peopled by "gypsies" and "public school oiks". By late primary, I had Australian books to read - my mother ensured that - and I started to marry the world I lived in - of gumtrees, galahs and magpies; with people with broad vowels and ancient cultures - with my imaginative world. Frame has no such luxury, and her literary freedoms are inextricably bound by her sense of New Zealand identity, and colonial emancipation. She describes Britain as a foreigner does, and finds her way home and to self acceptance all part of the package. It is almost as if, in creating her own literature, she creates enough space for herself in the world. ...more
I must come clean and admit I fought this book for much of the first half. When I picked it up, I knew little about Maori culture, or Ihimaera, and I I must come clean and admit I fought this book for much of the first half. When I picked it up, I knew little about Maori culture, or Ihimaera, and I just figured that I would learn more by reading him talk about his experiences as a child. Only this book is not written like that, because Ihimaera knows you can't understand his life without his whakapapa. So this book spirals around the stories of Ihimaera and his ancestors and family, moving around in time and following various threads. The start offers a handy chart of ancestors, to keep the characters straight, but reading late at night (or in the middle of it) I soon gave up trying to track who was who and just focused on what Ihimaera was trying to tell me. At times this felt like listening to a rambling elderly relative, and my body kinda vibrated with "get to the point" vibes. But as the book progressed, I found myself looking forward to the reading, and I also realised that I had understood more about Maori worldviews than I could easily articulate. At the end, I found myself going back to the beginning, aware finally of the significance of the start of the book in a way I simply hadn't appreciated before I read the rest of it. So I think I might be a bit smarter for having read it, and many of the experiences stay with me. I watched Whale Rider again this week and was amazed at how much more depth I recognised having spent this time with Ihimaera's book. Themes around the grandparents' role with the eldest son of the eldest son; the experience of learning culture and language from a respected grandparent, and how your perspective on gender might be changed if that g'parent is a different gender to you all come through. The slices of life juggling farm work, schooling, shearing, and a seasonal lifestyle are also fascinating, as are the different experiences of being the only Maori kid in class vs going to mostly Maori school. I wouldn't recommend it for an easy read, but it scores high on rewarding....more
This is a very useful, if not exactly fun, book. I suspect it is not as popular as it could be because it really brings two different kinds of book toThis is a very useful, if not exactly fun, book. I suspect it is not as popular as it could be because it really brings two different kinds of book together: the first half is a thorough 'Cook's tour' (heh) of New Zealand's pre-human fauna (and a little bit of flora). This was the bit I was after, and I've favourited it to take for easy searching and referencing while in NZ later this year because it is simply so thorough, and contextualises many of the species in the biogeography/deep time story of the country. It is a little dry/repetitive to read straight through, so I would recommend mostly to those with a strong interest. (Another way to put this would be no irritating fluff in the way of your facts: it's all a question of perspective).The second half of the book covers the history of destruction and then conservation in NZ after humans arrived, and includes discussion over issues, including the use of poison in forests; whether introduced endangered species need protection; balancing Maori and Pakeha conservation values and the differences and tensions around this; use of islands as refuges for mainland species, prioritising species for saving (triage to most endangered, or to most likely to be saved?). Much of this is depressing, as could be expected, but I was surprised at how engaged I was by this material, and Wilson admirably captures the complexity and passion of the area. Again, from the viewpoint of an aspiring ecotourist, it gave valuable background of the conservation (or lack thereof) of the places we are likely to visit. It was motivating enough that I have just purchased a Zealandia membership, so that gives an idea. Wilson's clear frustration with the power of Maori Iwi over conservation made me uncomfortable: like the last NZ non-fiction I read, she expressed a view that Pakeha should have more recognition of cultural ownership. This seems to fundamentally misunderstand the nature of New Zealand's treaty, and the history of land theft and cultural dispossession. I am intrigued to see how widespread this is in such a bicultural country....more
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