Whose Story is Being Told?
Witi Ihimaera: The Uncle’s Story

	Where to begin? Where else but at the beginning, the title! A good title is an ironic title. Being ‘part of the text’ and at the same time ‘about the text’, through this dual nature, a good title mis-represents the text. Indeed, understand how a good title is being ironic, two-faced… and you will have a better understanding of the text through realizing in what way the title is misreporting the narrative. This novel is titled The Uncle’s Story (2000) but the main protagonist is Michael Mahana, a gay Maori who, armed with his Uncle Sam’s diary, goes in search for the truth about this person, about the secret the Mahana family has kept hidden for over thirty years. (1)

	So, very early on in this novel, having been introduced to Michael, we then find the story narrates Sam’s story… then George’s story… and Auntie Pat’s story… and a number of other stories all wonderfully interwoven together (even the story of a greenstone tiki). Michael is to discover that he has not been the only member of his family who has been gay and through the medium of a diary learns about the life of his, till now not mentioned; Uncle Sam, and his romantic liaison with a handsome blond American from Illinois called Cliff Harper. (2)

	A good text needs poetic ‘space’, and, a dramatic text needs intense personal space! Witi supplies these ingredients in layer upon layer. Has he sold the film rights? We have these senses of ‘space’ in comparisons drawn between Michael and Sam; between Michael and his father and mother, and, Sam and his mother and father; contrasts between family and friends; the converging-diverging parallelisms between Maori and Pakeha; martial contests between Maoris soldiers and New-Zealand soldiers along with Australian soldiers, American and Vietcong; between lovers and ex-lovers; and, offcourse, between being gay and not being gay, and, as a gay person to what extent you accept your destiny in that regard? (3)

The tension is palpable! Accentuated at times by the dramatic device of suspension… by characters being kept apart, not being able to express their affection, not being able to express their sexual feelings when they could, or, not being given a chance to express their sexual desires when both parties desired it. Then throughout the story we have a succession of ‘battles’… from gripping military combat to verbal fights between family, friends and lovers… to whippings, accidents and other forms of misfortune.(4)

	Much of the novel raises philosophical questions about identity. What does it mean to be a New Zealander, to be a Maori, to be a gay Maori, to be an open, gay Maori…? The novel charts some interesting possibilities without being doctrinaire. Some quite controversial ideas are broached. The formation of a gay Maori tribe is an interesting idea although the idea that a gay male should marry a female, straight or lesbian, knowingly, seemed to have died a natural death? One moral the story brought out was that democracies should not be a dictatorship of the majority. That minorities also need to respect their minorities in their midst. Moreover, as we move beyond (the patronage of) multi-culturalism to a sense of cultural-pluralism hopefully we will find that people can form their identities through the allegiances that they wish to adopt and identify with rather than with past rigidities based on racial appearance, the culture you were born into, strict religious affiliations, etc. Religious allusions in the book were treated in a more fluid manner without expressing a need for absolute allegiance to one religion over another.  E.g., Carlos, Michael’s new boy-friend looks like a Pakeha but is a Maori descendant and identifies very much as one. Moreover, Carlos casually identifies himself as being a Buddhist. Then, we have recreated for us a sense of Maori religion, with all its gods and spirits, along with some Mormon influences… a living sense of cultural re-formation that goes beyond uni-form modernist and bi-modal/poly-modal expressions of a postmodernist tenor. The author’s writing here, I believe, is a good mirror for capturing the essence of our times, a sense of reflection that usually escapes people who are deeply embedded in the turmoil of their own small dramas. In his vision, the world appears to be taking on a more nuanced way of dealing with diversity… albeit as a slow process of building upon previously hard won battles… without declaring the war as won…. (5)

	An interesting texture in the writing is the use of italics – to indicate signing, to express more intimate thoughts and feelings, set up other contrasts between what is said and what might be meant. (6)

	Witi Ihimaera apparently has the habit of annoying people by re-editing and bringing out comprehensively altered versions of his novels, short stories, etc. The only other work of his I have read is Nights in the Gardens of Spain (1995). The author, I am sure, has the right to amend their texts whatever way they like, but, the public, too, I feel, are entitled to keep those earlier versions. He describes this habit as attempting to write more as a Maori rather than as a European. He fears the stories were not honest enough to rock the “waka” – the boat – of European literature. I found the earlier novel was well written but not very compelling or located in a sense of place (Auckland). However, I had a quite different experience in this novel and found the writing to be very moving. A better sense of place was also more imaginatively conjured up – I felt I could see the rugged countryside around Gisbourne (once visited) and something of the size and sense of escape a large city like Wellington could offer (having lived there myself). (7)

	One thing that intrigues me is the relationship between language and culture. Vast slabs of Maori were thrown at the reader and it always seemed appropriate. Moreover, numerous concepts were noted that even Maoris who don’t speak the language can be found referring to and still utilize in their way of coming to see ‘their’ world. I am sure, with or without your native tongue, whoever you be, a better citizen of the world is to be who you really are first before becoming a citizen of that country who may or may not have colonized you. This observation, I am certain, applies equally to the Australian aborigines as to all the members of the gay tribe! (8)         (Noël Tointon, Sydney, 18.19.09.)