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nicolaanaru's review
Deciding to expand one’s reading is an ambitious thing to do at any time, but logistically challenging during shelter-in-place, when physical libraries and mainstream bookstores are shut. As a work-around, I turned to eBay, and managed to find one vendor who could sell me ten or so paperback novels by Māori authors. As successful as that was, I found I was needing to mix things up a bit and see what authors I could find that had been published in the last decade - between Patricia, Witi, and Alan, there is a massive foundational offering to get through in what I consider the “first wave” of Māori fiction, and it’s a bit daunting. So, here I find myself reading an eBook for the first time!
The Graphologist’s Apprentice is written by Whiti Hereaka (Ngāti Tūwharetoa, Te Arawa), who is an extremely accomplished writer whose credits include a residency at the University of Iowa, numerous awards, and a position as Trustee for the Māori Literature Trust.
In this novel, the main protagonist, January, is a bit bored with her life - she has shit flatmates, a hum-drum office job in Wellington, and her love life is an intense yet dissatisfying affair with someone who won’t commit to her. In the midst of all this, she answers an ad in the paper and meets Mae, a graphologist looking for someone to pass on their handwriting-analysis-skills. Much of the narrative, then, focuses on the push-and-pull of these two very different women trying to suss each other out and form a bond.
This book was shortlisted for Best First Book in the Commonwealth Writers Prize South East Asia and Pacific 2011, and at a glance, it has positive star ratings across Amazon and Goodreads. For me, though, it was middling - there are elements of Scarlett Thomas in this book (whose writing I have long enjoyed), but it also seemed a bit…Bridget Jones-y, and as if it could be a genre novel written by anyone. Although billed as a story about “obsession”, I didn’t find it particularly intense or thrilling, and I wasn’t very invested in January’s story arc. This is also the first novel I’m reviewing for this blog where the protagonist is not situated out by the coast, or in a small town, or with their Iwi, or which uses a lot of Te Reo - and nothing in this book feels particularly Māori to me. On further reflection, this is a good thing - like that bit in Hari Kondabolu’s documentary, “We Need to Talk About Apu”, where someone talks about how they want there to be so much Southeast Asian representation in the media that they can finally get to a place where they don’t have to like someone just because they identify with them. To paraphrase, this book is “Māori enough” simply by virtue of being written by a Māori writer - not every experience is the same, nor should we expect to be hit over the head with smatterings of Te Reo or depictions of marae protocol in every Māori novel. Still, it has a lot to say about our chosen whānau, which is something I have given much thought to over the years, and there are themes of accountability and loyalty which make for a good read.
Word out on the Tweets is that Whiti Hereaka is working on another book (maybe a novel?), and I look forward to reading it one day.
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