Plantation Poetry

            I’d like to examine a passage from All I Asking for is My Body, that I found particularly beautifully written (someone also brought this up in section – so credit to them as well). Chapter four of part three begins:

The dust hangs in reddish clouds all around us. We are drenched, our denim pants cling to our wet legs, sweat trickles down faces and necks and moistens palms and backs of hands. We wipe continually, hands on pants, shirt sleeves over eyebrows, blue handkerchief around neck. (Murayama 39)

I think one aspect that makes this opening distinctively striking is the way it poetically describes something that isn’t necessarily beautiful at all – men sweating in the hot sun, “We are drenched, our denim pants cling to our wet legs…” I also found it interesting the way this opening uses “we” to perhaps emphasize the group aspect of this manual labor.  

            The distinctiveness of this opening is also heightened by the way that the rest of the chapter reads – in an almost unidentified vernacular, for example, “iIchiricchi ali bam bam…” These contrasting styles demonstrate Milton Murayama’s skill and confidence as a writer – and a poet. 

Sarah Eastland 

this is what happens when you're not a local

This doesn't have anything to do with class. I just posted it because I referenced it to Trey on Tuesday...sorry for wasting your valuable time.

Pidgin as Equalizer and an Attempt to Regain a “Native” or “Local” Identity in Yamanaka’s Saturday Night at the Pahala Theater

Pidgin as Equalizer and an Attempt to Regain a “Native” or “Local” Identity in Yamanaka’s Saturday Night at the Pahala Theater

By: Tori Howard

            In Saturday Night at the Pahala Theater Lois-Ann Yamanaka uses Pidgin vernacular for the voices of each character: all native Hawaiians, and Japanese and Filipino immigrants. I discussed this in further detail in my midterm, but the gist of what I discussed is that this use of a common language between all characters on this sugar plantation proves that a connection to the land also ties the people to each other regardless of racial backgrounds. The equivalence is seen in “Kala: Saturday Night at the Pahala Theater” where Kala, a native Hawaiian character says, “Of course neva have cartoons./ You stupid or what?/ You neva seen one X-rated movie before?” (Yamanaka 22). This is a very clear use of the Pidgin language being directed from a native—to the narrator Lucy who is living in Hawaii, but of Asian descent—placing both of these characters on the same language field. Further, Lucy narrates in Pidgin itself when she says in “Kid,” Bernie and Melvin went up Mauna Kea/ couple weeks ago for hunt goat,” (102) showing that both characters speak in Pidgin, and Lucy thinks in Pidgin, binding both Lucy and Kala if not in class struggle, language and literature struggles throughout the story.

 Pidgin is historically the hybrid of second language English-speaking Hawaiians using phonetics to understand each word of English while still employing Hawaiian ones as well, in a sense, regaining a national unity and pride over a fundamentally Hawaiian/local hybrid language, showing that not only has Yamanaka employed Pidgin to unite natives and locales, but that this is a struggle that still continues in Hawaii in modern times.

Is there anything further regarding the Pidgin use in Yamanaka that you guys found that I may have missed? What are some of your thoughts?

Kiyoshi's Poetic Vision of Kahana

Although Milton Murayama is adept at uncovering the harsher realities of the mid-20th century plantation lifestyle, there are a few passages that paint a more loving picture of Kahana. In the sixth section/chapter of All I Asking for Is My Body, Murayama writes:

"When Tosh didn't come by nine, mother sent me to look for him. I headed straight for Citizens' or Single Men's Quarters near the bathhouse. Kahana became a dense dark forest at night. Naked bulbs on lonely telephone poles lit the rutted road and rain ditches at every intersection. Hibiscus hedges surrounded every yard, and every yard grew ferns, orchids, night flowers, avocado, mango, papaya, soursap, lime, pomegranate, banana, and star fruit. Tall eucalyptus ringed the whole camp and lined the main roads, and there was always a breeze rustling in the night. The stars glittered more brightly than in Pepelau" (Murayama 45).

I was presently surprised to find this gem of a passage nestled away in a chapter that is otherwise wrought with much Oyama family turmoil. Despite the many conflicts and combative moments throughout the book, it was a relief to find Murayama's (few) recollections of Kahana's beautiful landscape. In this particular excerpt, the plantation becomes an imaginative "dense dark forest," where Kiyoshi's poetic vision suddenly takes control of the narrative. This scene simultaneously reveals the rich milieu of the plantation while more deeply establishing Kiyoshi as a character of profound insight.

The "rutted road and rain ditches" line allows a more realized portrait of the haunting imagery of the plantation while also transitioning to an indelible prose-styled paragraph. The list of plants and food reads almost like a prayer -- Kiyoshi's praise for the many hidden treasures waiting to be discovered. The final line draws a comparison between the Pepelau plantation and the Kahana plantation. It's not entirely clear why the stars glitter brighter in Kahana; perhaps Kiyoshi is merely growing into his writer mind and is increasingly conscious of the poetics of the plantation life, or maybe Kahana itself is a warmer and inherently more poetic plantation. The latter seems a more promising answer, especially as the following paragraph delves into the kinship experienced in the camp.

"There was another thing I'd come to like about the camp. The hundred Japanese families were like one big family. Everybody knew everybody else, everybody was friendly, nobody beat up anybody. I would've gotten into a couple of fights if I were a new student at Pepelau, but the guys in Kahana were open and friendly from the start. They made you feel welcome and invited you to go to the mountains or the ocean. Nobody was left out" (Murayama 45).

In this loving paragraph, Murayama perfectly encapsulates the all-inclusive mentality of the Kahana plantation.  Frustrated with his own family's dysfunction, Kiyoshi finds comfort in the kindness of other Kahana plantation families. Again, Hawaiian land makes a valuable poetic appearance, as Kiyoshi discovers the plantation members' kinship through their invitation to "go to the mountains or the ocean." The fragile and deeply stirring bond between individuals and the land catches Kiyoshi's observant thoughts; furthermore, it plays a subtle role in establishing bonds between essentially unfamiliar plantation members. Far more than a merely passive narrator, Kiyoshi affirms his powerful vision through these two paragraphs and in doing so, unearths the sublime wonders of the Kahana landscape and its welcoming residents.

-Jon Vorpe

Hawaii's Image

I know we've reviewed this a bit in class, but after seeing "classic" movies like Gidget and South Pacific, I'm wondering exactly why this idealistic image was created? Does the image of Hawaii as a perfect, pristine, paradise only exist in the United State? Or is Hawaii's "perfect" image something believed across all nations (such as China, Mexico, etc)? Does everyone across the world believe see Hawaii in this way? I haven't been to Hawaii since I was 8 or 9 and even then I remember it being perfect and ideal (but then again...I was 8). Does this idealistic and unreal image of Hawaii exist to bring romance and escapism into people's lives? Or is it simply a ploy to bring tourists to Hawaii? How was this image created? Did it start with movies and songs of the Pacific? Even when it's apparent that Hawaii isn't perfect (and no place is truly perfect)...people still associate Hawaii with idealistic perfection. Why is this? Even after taking this class and knowing a bit more about Hawaii...I still find myself dying to go visit and exist in the tropical paradise that is Hawaii. I can't shake it's "paradise" image. Why do you guys think?

Tosh and Father

I noticed that at the beginning of the Muryama's novel the relationship between Tosh and his father especially is different towards the end. Countless times Tosh would butt heads with his mother and father, but in the beginning his father would "slap and punch" his head all over and he seemed to take it. Then towards the middle on p. 44 it seemed that Tosh finally had it and hit his father back. It says he "threw a left hook to father's solar plexus". After that it was as if he grew and saw himself as the man of the house. There was one instance on p.77 when his father brought up how remarkable Minoru Tanka was for working fifteen years for his parents. Immediately Tosh got infuriated and went on a rant on how Tanaka is basically nothing. It was surprising to me that his father basically took it! No punishment or slap on the head, instead it says "Father didn't bring up the subject in front of Tosh again". Lastly what really made it clear to me that Tosh saw himself as the head man was when the air attack had been made on Oahu and it was Tosh that told his father what to do. He was ordering him around and telling him to hid the Japanese flag, don't speak  Japanese around any non Japanese, hide all the books in the chicken coops. Again his father followed everything he commanded. Tosh's father seemed like a hard ass in the beginning to me and it was surprising to see a huge role reversal towards the end. Now Tosh is ordering around and throwing the hits.

Kayla

Pele

Pele is the goddess of fire and volcanoes. In modern days Pele has become the most visible of all the old god and goddesses. She can take many forms and is often associated with the color white. Hawaiians believe her to be dwelling in the craters of Kilauea, the big island’s volcano that has been continuously active since 1983, adding to the land on the eastern shore. 

For many Hawaiian’s Pele is strength and a representation of the traditional Hawaiian beliefs. In Hawaii’s Story By Hawaii’s Queen,  the book opens with mention of Pele and the moment that she (Liliuokalani) believes, “Broke forever the power of Pele, the fire-goddess, over the hearts of her people. The acceptance of Christianity into the Hawaiian kingdom by Liliuokalani’s great-grandaunt Queen Kapiolani made way for the Hawaiian people to accept Christianity as well. Liliuokalani was Westernized and Christian, this in itself would have brought a separation between Hawaiian’s who have remembered old Hawaiian traditions, rituals, customs, those who continue to honor the gods and goddesses of Hawaii and the monarch. 

Colonized societies struggle with identity and displacement issues and Hawaii is no different. The way that the monarch was overthrown was illegal, the US created the Apology act in November 1993 that only apologized for the illegal overthrow of the Hawaiian Monarchy but this apology act did nothing in attempting to make amends or to resolve the issues of displacement that comes from an action so large as the US overthrow of Hawaii. Pele seems to be the essence of the forgotten Hawaiian way of life. 

-Loren

Historic Hawaii Foundation's Facebook!

I was just wandering around online looking for pictures of the sugar plantation in Lahaina and I found this Facebook Page. Thought it might be interesting for everyone to look at.

Which Character is Most Admirable?

       In my mind, there are both positive and negative qualities that both Kiyo and Tosh posses. Tosh is courageous while Kiyo is meek. Tosh is outspoken and opinionated where Kiyo is quiet. Tosh is rude to his parents while Kiyo is the picture of filial. The two brothers serve as completely opposing personalities that still coexist in the same environment, and ultimately want the same things. The more admirable character in a traditional sense would be Tosh, because he goes for what he wants and stands up for what he believes in. However, in the end I must say that I believe Kiyo is the more admirable character due to his reliability and his willingness to help his family despite the fact that it inconveniences him. He could have simply run off and used the $6,000 to start a new life for himself after the military, yet he chooses to send the money home to help his family. Whether Kiyo returns to his family after the conclusion of the novel is unclear, but either way he knows that they are out of debt and hopefully happy. 

- Caitlin Rickard

American Values in "All I Asking For..."

      Tosh uses the way Americans raise their children as an example of how he believes his parents should be raising their children. He believes that it is unfair of his parents to be saddling him with the family debt because he did not choose such a life for himself. He proceeds to enter into boxing in order to escape the life that was given to him, and pursue a career and a life of his own in that manner. Although Tosh is never said to have success in this novel, it seems he is well on his way to achieving the “American Dream.”  As the reader, you are given hope for a better future for Tosh, while still worrying about what is to become of Kiyo. Because the parents are so willing to let go of Tosh and saddle Kiyo with the family debt, it is hard to decide who is in the right. Is Tosh being selfish or is Kiyo being too meek? Should Kiyo pass the family debt off to the youngest son, who is only a baby, or should he take it on himself? Tosh’s argument is that the parents should take on the debt themselves, but it is clear that is not going to happen, and he knows it.
- Caitlin Rickard

Japanese Terms & Values in "All I Asking For..."

           There are a number of instances in the novel where Kiyo translates terms for the reader. On pg 4, Kiyo’s father tells him that he is going to “crack [his] head kotsun,” and in the next paragraph, Kiyo explains ”Kotsun doesn’t mean anything in Japanese. It’s just the sound of something hard hitting your head.”  Not only does Kiyo translate Japanese terms for the reader, he also translates Hawaiian terms. Also on page 4, Tosh calls Makoto wahine, and in the next paragraph Kiyo elaborates: “’Wahine’ was the Hawaiian word for woman. When we called anybody wahine it meant she was a girl or he was a sissy. When Father said wahine it meant the old lady or Mother.” The fact that Kiyo translates so much in the novel makes it more obvious when he does not do it. Later in the novel, when Kiyo is describing his work in the plantation with a group of Filipinos, nothing is translated. This works to alienate the reader, thus making them feel like they cannot really understand what it is like to work in those fields and actually experience the work that they’re doing.

A Japanese value that occurs often in the novel is the idea of being filial. Kiyo’s parents are always telling them that they should be more filial, which is something that Tosh is resistant to. There is a constant push-pull between Tosh and his mother, Tosh wanting to be able to live his own life, and his mother wanting him to be a good, filial son. I see this as the mother not being willing to let go of the idea that she will one day return to Japan. She wants everything to be very traditional Japanese, not only because that was the way she was raised, but because she believes that when she returns to Japan she will have done everything by the book. 

- Caitlin Rickard

Pity Party

I’ve noticed a pattern in pride surrounding home life and reputation amongst “the locals” in Hawaii. There are instances of it in both Saturday Night At The Pahala Theatre and All I Asking For Is My Body. It seems to me that there is more of an anxiety associated with keeping up appearances amongst the Japanese/Filipino locals in Hawaii. In Pahala Theatre When Lucy is spending a lot of time at Bernie’s shop after they bond over her pet goat, Lucy’s mother becomes angry and says, “Tell that old man I like you home by 5:00 or I calling the cops. Who he think him, your fadda? We no need his pity.”(Yamanaka 106) I recalled this scene while I was reading All I asking for is my body and the way that Kiyoshi’s parents speak of him spending time and eating dinner at Makot’s house. His mother tells him “don’t you see kiyoshi, you will bring shame to your father and me if you go there to eat. People will say, ‘Ah, look at the Oyama’s number two boy. He’s a hoitobo and chorimbo!.” (Murayama 2) It’s clear in the passages from both stories that these non-indigenous Hawaiian’s living in Hawaii care a lot about how they’re perceived by the public eye. Both of these cases happen to be Japanese families but I’m guessing that it’s prevalent in the Chinese and Filipino settler communities as well. Where do you think the extreme worry over public perception comes from amongst the settler communities? Do you think that it’s because they are a very proud people and just because they are living outside of their native land that’s not going to change. Or, do you think it has to do with the fact that their people were brought to the island by rich white men to work the plantations so they feel very self-conscience about their place within the economy of Hawaii and are much too proud to beg or look for handouts from anyone else?

Study Group after section?????

Hello fellow classmates,

I was wondering if anyone would like partake in an emergency last second study group for the midterm on Wednesday? I missed class last Wednesday, consequently missing out on whatever aspects of the test that might have been gone over then.

I'd like to hold the study group tomorrow night immediately following section (about 7:10 PM), either in the coffee house, or the weird piano room in Cowell. 

If you're interested, please just post on here. Since this post is following the trend set by the study group (poorly planned and last second), I'll probably try to announce something tomorrow night during section, as well.

-Michael LeSueur

Local or American?

The shift from referencing local individuals of Japanese descent from local Japanese to Americans of Japanese Ancestry in Part III of All I Asking for is My Body represents the tensions surrounding the time period in which the story takes place: during World War II and the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Particularly after the bombing, Hawaiian and Japanese tensions on the island grew as the threat of losing this island was now an issue. The term local Japanese suddenly instilled fear upon the islands' inhabitants because no one could trust that a local Japanese wasn't going to side with Japan and begin to massacre the Hawaiian people. By labeling oneself as an American of Japanese Ancestry, one demonstrated loyalty to the U.S. allies of Hawaii, and the term became a shield from being lumped with the enemies in Japan. The labeling of "American" became something that made individuals "safe" in Hawaii-- which is ironic because for so long Americans were hated and feared because of the U.S. authority over the islands and their continuation of colonization of Hawaii over the years and now, Americans were on Hawaii's side, their protectors. Becoming "Americans" also creates a greater cultural and identity divide between native Hawaiians and the Japanese "locals" because they are identifying as settlers on the island, rather than as locals.

                In the story All I asking for is my body, the characterization of Tosh is very unique compared to the rest of the characters, simply because he says it how it is. He isn't programmed to let others influence his decisions, even though he has taken on the responsibility to help out his family. His relationship with his parents is very much, "in their face" letting them know exactly how he feels despite the outcomes. Even though he is doing what he can to help pay off their family debt, he more so does it in an antagonizing, humiliating direction. "Take yourself. You can't support your own family. You need my help. But instead of being nice to me, you treat me like dirt. Now you want to kick me out. I'd be glad to go. I can work my way through high school and college and make something of myself" (Milton Muryama, All I asking for is my body, 45). Here we have Tosh confronting his family pulling away from being oppressed by his parents mistakes, but also being able to hold his own by reminding them he isn't going to be the failure regardless if they kick him out of the home or not. In a sense this can be seen as a rebellious act from his family, but he is just trying to make a living for himself by learning from their mistakes. He isn't going to let their mistakes empower his ability to succeed. 

               It was quite alarming when his mother kept disregarding his taunts by making Tosh feel like he was not important or worthy of being in their family. Especially when Tosh does what he can to help out regardless of his outbursts and confrontations. The mother figure in this story is very selfish, self-centered, and in a way seems like she wants her sons to fail and remain in this bubble of oppression and or family obligation. "Someday you'll have your punishment. You'll have an unfilial son like you" (Milton Muryama, All I asking for is my body, 45). This constant usage of the word "unfilial," is very demanding on the parents part, especially the mother. She seems very manipulative and selfish to even say such words to her children. Instead of helping them succeed and escape this tiny, destructive household they are suffering in, she wants them to oblige to the "old ways" and has held them accountable to fix their mistakes. 

~Puja C. Patel~ 

is there better way to describe Saturday Night at the Pahala Theatre?

Saturday Night at the Pahala Theatere is different from reading a book of individual poems because it is a narrative about a girl's experiences from childhood to young adulthood. Rather than poems that are only possibly connected through a common theme, the poems in Saturday Night at the Pahala Theatre follow a timeline. They connect through a common speaker, and continue a story. The reader becomes invested in the young girl's experiences portrayed throughout the poems, rather than just the imagery itself. Since this book of poems does have somewhat of a story line, it could easily be described as a "poetic novella." It is indeed a set of poems that seem to connect together as a story, and I guess that would be the easiest way to describe the category in which Saturday Night at the Pahala Theatre would fall into. Even so, the story has a lot of disconnect, unlike other poetic novellas, and is more of a poetic account of single experiences that can be strung together to connect as a coming of age story-- though much of the life-span that is portrayed is left out from the poetic narrative itself.

Authorship and Responsibility

Several students during section agreed with the critics that stated "Saturday Night..." and other works by author Lois-Ann Yamanka were racist against Filipinos. Based on what we have read in her poems, that is a fair criticism. I feel that authorship is a tricky issue. If an author creates a character that spouts controversial words, they have to take responsibility for what that character says. It's not as if the character has a life of its own, and determines what is written. Though it can be argued that a character should be real to life and uncensored in his or her use of language, the effect of the words written should not be overlooked. Yamanka should have (and probably did) expect some sort of criticism from any number of Filipinos, especially after producing various works that contained seemingly racist content in regards to Filipinos. Even though I agree that her critics have the right to call her a racist, I do not believe it to be true. Yamanka must be responsible for the work she produces, but at the same time anyone who reads it must determine their own reaction based on the work as a whole. This means that taking a few lines of a collection out of context and basing a reaction solely on the most controversial parts is not the best way to read Yamanaka's work. If her goal was to slander the Filipino people, the book most likely would have contained far more racist content, and possibly wouldn't have been widely circulated, let alone published. In the end, everyone has a right to his or her own opinion, and in this case I feel that Yamanaka's work was not intentionally meant to offend the Filipino community.

Animals, Eyes, and the Soul

Blog Post #2

     Other students have expressed feelings of discomfort and being disturbed from the poems in Yamanaka’s Saturday Night at the Pahala Theatre. I experienced similar feelings about Yamanaka’s work, but one of the only bright spots in the book is the character of Bernie and his friendship with Lucy. Lucy and Bernie’s relationship is showcased in “Pueo Don’t Fly” (97-8). The motif of dead animals and their eyes are prominent in this poem. First, Lucy considers the rabbit that Bernie previously stuffed for her and his eye. Lucy knows that Clyde looks the same, but “his eyes no was the same” (97). Bernie also stuffs a dead owl, “pueo.” Lucy investigates the animal, “The pueo eye all gray/ like loose skin  and sunken in./I put my fingers on the eye and make um open/ but no more nothing there. Nothing./Just one dark, black hole” (97). This emptiness in the animal haunts Lucy throughout the rest of the poem. At the end of the poem, Lucy feels like the owl’s “big, yellow glass eye/looking for me” (98).  The idea that these animals’ eyes have been replaced with glass eyes deeply disturbs Lucy. I believe that this act bothers Lucy so much because she feels there is an intrinsic link between the eyes and the soul. Without their real eyes, the animals do not have a soul, “nothing” is there. The soul is replaced with a “big, black hole” when the real eyes are replaced. This is why Lucy feels that her pet is not the same after being stuffed, because his eyes are not the same, thus to her the essence of his being is not the same. Because Lucy is aware of this change in the dead animals, the owl’s glass eye haunts her dreams. To Lucy, the animals eyes represent it’s “soul,” thus with death and the replacement of the eyes the soul is gone. 

-Mary Rowan