The first time I read "Dead Air," I didn't really think about the significance of the fact that most of the characters are local, rather than native. After discussing this in Section, I re-read the story (or did for the purpose of this post...) and thought about how the the author really didn't waste any space of the text with regard to the metaphors he was creating:
So, the death of Jacob represents the final passing of one of the Natives (the spirit of the island/ birthright of the Hawaiian people), the locals have that death on all of their consciences (though they outwardly consider themselves to be just as "native" as the natives, they have a deeper sense and fear of being the intruders that they so despise in the story), and for a while simply talk about how they haven't done anything to wrong the people, and try to convince everyone around them (and themselves) that they are simply victims of this stench that they blame on the Haole's, even though they are the original criminals in the story.
The author didn't miss this opportunity to also vilify the Haole, however. In the form of a figure every bit as stereotypical as the Great White Hunter (with his pith helmet and mutton chop mustache, murdering countless endangered species): the snake oil salesman who shows up to capitalize upon the mistake of the locals, exacerbating the problems of the island. But, in a rather brilliant way, the arrival of the snake oil salesman doesn't arouse a great sense of pity for the locals, rather just a hatred for the newly introduced character. The author simultaneously introduced a new villain, without in any way humanizing the current antagonist, despite the fact that the latter is being manipulated by said new villain. The locals simply continue to travel on their path of ignorance, "getting a taste of their own medicine," so to speak.
The locals then attempt to pacify the angry spirit of the Hawaiians by offering up food and drink in the native Hawaiian fashion. Such an attempt reminds me of the countless promises a child will make "to be good," when faced with the imminence of a spanking. The locals attempted to fool the natives and themselves one last time, by enacting a ritual that they have no genetic ties to. The spirits of the now gone natives laughs at this feeble attempt at deception offered up by those who simply sought to enslave them [the native Hawaiians] first.
After this it becomes a little foggy (for me) as to what happens... It seems like the author sought to show that the native Hawaiian's are truly a forgiving and benevolent people who transcend simple western morality, and so he had them forgive the locals for their transgressions... And all they wanted all along was a simple heartfelt apology from those who wronged them (that dude in the graveyard)... But this resolution still leaves the natives dead and gone, and the locals flourishing (the spur of fertility at the end of the story)... So this is where my house of cards collapses. After building up a story so pointedly around the strength, martyrdom and forgiving aspects of the Hawaiian natives, the locals triumph in the end (albeit by the compromised terms of the local spirits).
So from here I wonder whether the author is asserting that there is no way that the Natives will ever regain their lands and their former glory (a notion I wouldn't wholly disagree with), and the future of Hawaii lies with those 2nd, 3rd and so on generations of Hawaiian immigrants? But only under the pretense that they openly acknowledge the wrongs they have enacted against the islands, and openly repent? But is that it? No redistribution of lands or properties? Just apologize (and mean it!) and then it will be sweet and groovy again?
Michael -
ReplyDeleteExcellent post, but there are a few things I'd like to maybe not so much clear up for you, but perhaps even further complicate. For one, in terms of these generations of descendant locals, it is important to keep in mind that they were an imported labor force because the natives were too few in number due to the ravages of western diseases on an isolated population that had no antibodies to the introduced maladies. As such, these 'coolies' were in no position, originally, to be usurpers of native lands. It is only through these successive generations that the local Asian population, especially the Japanese, have become more prominent as land owners and holders of political power. That said, it is easier to see how and why Pak depicts his characters as unwilling to take any responsibility for the displacement of locals from their land, being that it was haole plantation owners or others of this elite class (within the diegesis the Cox family) who were able to snatch large swaths of land thanks to new laws that allowed someone to pay back taxes on a piece of property and then become the new owner. Another important aspect to bear in mind, which is true whenever speaking about race, is that it never follows clean delineations - meaning that from the time of their arrival, Asian and haole immigrants were mixing with the natives - which really complicates genetic claims to place and the term 'native' itself. I often wonder how 'native' a person has to be for someone like Trask to accept them as 'native' . . .
Trey
Thanks for the response (even though you had to). I've been wondering a lot about the seemingly genetic puritan stance some of the nativists seem to be taking (Trask in particular); specifically how anyone can try to reclaim a land based on blood, in "this day and age." But I wonder if this is my "American melting pot" upbringing talking? I know that countries like Japan and Sweden are still very much about keeping their bloodlines strictly native, but that doesn't seem to bother me as much as it does here (perhaps because, as an american, I feel a bit of ownership over Hawaii as well)....?
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