This is Leslie VonHolten with an HPPR Radio Readers Book Byte.
Once Were Warriors is a brutal story of a Maori family living in poverty in New Zealand. The author, Alan Duff, is also Maori, and he spent part of his childhood in low-income housing. I tell you this because it is the only reason I stayed with this book. That, and Duff’s literary use of prose—which for book people like myself, that is code for “stylistic and difficult to read.”
But I shouldn’t make light of anything during this book byte. That is because there is not one breath of humor, not one element of Maori joy to be found in Once Were Warriors. The story is one mean, booze-soaked scene after another, and most of it is told through the drunken inner dialogue of the two parents, Beth and Jake. Drunk or sober, Jake is often beating the tar out of someone. Usually he’s beating Beth.
Their five children see all that is wrong in their family. The two oldest sons, through different means, find strength by reconnecting with their Maori heritage. A caring social worker teaches sensitive Boogie the ways of past Maori men, their haka dances and ethics of loyalty. The oldest brother, however, learns similar lessons, but through his street gang that thrives on violence and terror.
And then there is Grace, the oldest sister. As her name signifies, she is the central heart of the book. She cares for her siblings and their home. But this is a world that grace—and here I use the word as a noun, meaning mercy or love—cannot survive, much less thrive.
I cannot speak to the poverty and desperation in the story. In this, I trust the author. But one issue that plagued me throughout my reading was the overdose of toxic masculinity. That keeps me from recommending the book.
Jake and his buddies are monsters who use and beat women without remorse. I know that the author uses this behavior, in part, as a symptom of New Zealand’s colonial past and enduring racism. I respect that. I did sense that Duff is not asking us to excuse Jake’s behavior. But I do have an issue with the storytelling itself—specifically the gross descriptions and use of female bodies throughout the novel.
If you have heard of Once Were Warriors, it’s probably because of the film version. I saw it when it came out in 1994, and I watched it again last week with my adult daughter. Like the book, the movie is also grim, but it does hold up artistically after all these years. Honestly, watching it helped me gain a foothold in the book’s difficult prose. And as is often required in films, the storyline has been simplified. It also smooths over Beth’s culpability in a way that the book does not. But like the book, the dispossession and history drive the ugly macho behavior.
The movie is also easier on the viewer, in a dark way. It leaves us with some hope for this family. The brothers find a life-affirming pride in their reconnection to history. A new character is written in to bear the evil that propels the story. It is still toxic, and there is an assault scene that is much too long. But unlike the book, there is a beauty and pride of the Maori culture that shows throughout.
This is Radio Reader Leslie VonHolten hoping you will join us in reading books from around the world this season. Or maybe this time, watching the movie. Find more at HPPR.org, or Like us on Facebook.
