In a lot of ways, this is the novel about Hawaii I’ve been looking for. It’s steeped in the history and culture of Native Hawaiians, but also a compelling generational family saga.
The Naupaka family lives in Hilo, which is on the island of Hawai’i (also known as “The Big Island”). Laka, once Hilo’s celebrated Miss Aloha Hula, has just returned from several years in Maui with a baby that doesn’t look Hawaiian. Bloodlines are important to this community because Native blood is what determines who gets to keep their land, due to a complex set of blood quantum laws establishing small plots of land for Native families. Laka’s daughter, Hi’i, is determined to prove to everyone she belongs there. One way she does this is by enrolling in hula classes, so she can live up to her mother’s legacy. But she’s troubled by rumors about her parentage and the feeling she doesn’t belong.
Laka is estranged from her mother, Hulali, an activist for Hawaiian rights. Even though community and family support are “the Hawaiian way”, the three generations of Naupakas are constantly at odds. Hulali pushed her daughter too hard to live up to their family’s heritage, while Laka barely knows what her teenage daughter is doing, and Laka’s abusive boyfriend leaves Hi’i alienated in their own home.
Still, there’s deep love in this family despite its dysfunction, which Hakes shows us as the story progresses. The story is narrated not just by Laka and Hi’i, but by the community as a collective voice, which I loved. The story covers decades, from Laka’s teenage years in the 70’s to Hi’i’s adulthood in the 90’s. It culminates with President Clinton’s signing of the “Apology Resolution” in 1993, which acknowledged that Hawaiians never willingly relinquished their soveriegnty.
In Hilo, we are the `āina. Its mist is our breath, its rain our tears, its
waters our blood.
Our veins run deep, our song louder than their noise. Roots too deep to
extract. That’s the thing about hula. Burn your books, rewrite your history,
build walls, plant flags. Hula is written within the swirls of our feet. It’s our
umbilical cord, our pulse. Our battle cry, our death rattle, our moment of
conception. The chants are archived in the stars. Hula is the heat rising from
within our volcanoes. It is the pull of the tides, the beat of the surf against
our cliffs. It is our hair, our teeth, our bones. Our DNA.
You can steal a kingdom, but the kingdom will never belong to you.
It also covers the history of the Hawai’an kingdom, and its takeover by the United States and eventual statehood. It explores the Native people’s conflicts with the U.S. government, the companies profiting from the land, and the increasing number of tourists (Hakes calls them “interrupters”).
I was very interested in the way this book explores what it means to be Hawaiian, which is more than just your percentage of native blood. There are people of many different races living in Hawaii, and many people have blended heritage, though that might not be apparent to look at them. Residents of Hawaii may also have different political outlooks or care about different aspects of the land and culture, as the character of David does. And there are always conflicts between trying to support your family economically and doing what might be best for the land and its people. All of this is complicated, as Hakes so effectively shows us. Hakes herself is of mixed ethnicity, and says she grew up teased for looking like a tourist, so she’s writing from her own experience.
And finally, there is hula, with its ties to the Hawaiian myths and legends, its role as storyteller and preserver of the culture. In this book, hula is a unifier, although at the same time it’s divisive to the Naupaka family.
I didn’t mind the characters’ disdain for tourists, who spend their money on meaningless trinkets and think attending a resort luau connects them to the culture. I know I’ve said this before, but as someone who loves visiting Hawaii, I’m interested in understanding how the locals see tourists, and what I can do to minimize my impact or at least support the local economy. I don’t think there’s much I can do, as I’m part of the machine that’s constantly building new resorts, condos and stores. But I at least want to learn as much as I can about this place I love.
I found everything about this book compelling, though it’s often extremely sad as well. The use of Hawaiian language is rich and beautiful, and I was glad I listened to it on audio so I could get a sense of the words even if I didn’t fully understand them. I highly recommend this book for anyone who loves a good family story but who also loves Hawaii and wants to learn more about it.
