Michael Schmicker's Blog - Posts Tagged "hawaii"
Terry and the Volcano (Book Review)
At 6 A.M. on August 22, 1968, Hawaii’s Kilauea volcano erupted with a roar.
A “huhu” (angry) Madame Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of volcanoes, launched thundering fountains of flaming rock 150 feet into the Pacific sky. When Hawaiian Volcano Observatory scientists cautiously peered over the rim of Hiiaka crater at 7 A.M., they discovered a fiery lake of lava 60-feet deep had filled the crater floor. Half of Honolulu rushed to the Big Island to see the pyrotechnics – a popular pastime for those of us here in the Islands.
Back on the Mainland, Carl Biemiller read the papers and recognized the seed of a good story. A veteran writer/magazine editor, and author of adventure books for young readers, he wove the volcano eruption into an unpublished manuscript which his son Eric later discovered and combined with a second into this delightful, little gem of Hawaiiana.
Uncle George storms into the New Jersey home of his nephew Terry, a 12-year old boy suffering from rheumatic fever, and whisks him away to Hawaii where the sun, sea, and laid-back Island-lifestyle help him recover his health. By book’s end, with the clever use of a kite he learns to fly, Terry saves the lives of Bobby, Buster and Maka during a volcano eruption. “The Kite of Kilauea” exudes a Fifties flavor. Optimism, pluck and hard work save the day, Hawaii’s chop suey of races mixes cheerfully, and the Hawaiian sovereignty movement hasn’t shown up yet to force us to ponder the morality of colonization and annexation in this somewhat idealized description of life in Paradise. We’re all in a darker place today.
But the resurrected, rebuilt manuscript holds up remarkably well. Humor, fast-paced writing, a cast of colorful locals (still recognizable in Hawaii), and a remarkable wealth of Hawaiian history, sports, culture, botany, theology and language – seamlessly slipped into the story – keep this book both relevant and fun for readers of any age. Using Terry’s dreams, Biemiller artfully delivers a primer of Hawaiian history prior to the 1778 arrival of Capt. Cook, and even tucks in the back of the book a bonus glossary of 60 common Hawaiian words – so you’re also scoring a free Berlitz, all for only $3.98.
If you’re a “haole” intent on visiting “Hawaii nei” by plane or armchair, get off your “okole” “wiki wiki” and buy this book. You’re “lolo” if you pass up this bargain.
A “huhu” (angry) Madame Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of volcanoes, launched thundering fountains of flaming rock 150 feet into the Pacific sky. When Hawaiian Volcano Observatory scientists cautiously peered over the rim of Hiiaka crater at 7 A.M., they discovered a fiery lake of lava 60-feet deep had filled the crater floor. Half of Honolulu rushed to the Big Island to see the pyrotechnics – a popular pastime for those of us here in the Islands.
Back on the Mainland, Carl Biemiller read the papers and recognized the seed of a good story. A veteran writer/magazine editor, and author of adventure books for young readers, he wove the volcano eruption into an unpublished manuscript which his son Eric later discovered and combined with a second into this delightful, little gem of Hawaiiana.
Uncle George storms into the New Jersey home of his nephew Terry, a 12-year old boy suffering from rheumatic fever, and whisks him away to Hawaii where the sun, sea, and laid-back Island-lifestyle help him recover his health. By book’s end, with the clever use of a kite he learns to fly, Terry saves the lives of Bobby, Buster and Maka during a volcano eruption. “The Kite of Kilauea” exudes a Fifties flavor. Optimism, pluck and hard work save the day, Hawaii’s chop suey of races mixes cheerfully, and the Hawaiian sovereignty movement hasn’t shown up yet to force us to ponder the morality of colonization and annexation in this somewhat idealized description of life in Paradise. We’re all in a darker place today.
But the resurrected, rebuilt manuscript holds up remarkably well. Humor, fast-paced writing, a cast of colorful locals (still recognizable in Hawaii), and a remarkable wealth of Hawaiian history, sports, culture, botany, theology and language – seamlessly slipped into the story – keep this book both relevant and fun for readers of any age. Using Terry’s dreams, Biemiller artfully delivers a primer of Hawaiian history prior to the 1778 arrival of Capt. Cook, and even tucks in the back of the book a bonus glossary of 60 common Hawaiian words – so you’re also scoring a free Berlitz, all for only $3.98.
If you’re a “haole” intent on visiting “Hawaii nei” by plane or armchair, get off your “okole” “wiki wiki” and buy this book. You’re “lolo” if you pass up this bargain.
SUPERNATURAL HAWAII (Book Review)
Everybody loves a ghost story, science be dammed.
Turn on your television any night (at least in the U.S) and you can shiver along with a half-dozen hit series, live or in rerun – Ghost Hunters and Ghost Hunters International (SciFi); Ghost Adventures (Travel Channel); Ghost Lab, and A Haunting (Discovery Channel); and Paranormal State (A&E).
Today’s investigators descend on a house or graveyard and chase ghosts with a truckload of 21st century toys – hi-def videocams, digital tape recorders, EMF detectors, infrared thermal scanners, thermometers and walkie-talkies.
Judi Thompson’s book “Supernatural Hawaii” features tales from a quainter era when folklorists chased ghosts with a simple notebook and pen. Thompson started collecting her oral histories in 1984 while working as executive editor at the Institute for Polynesian Studies. Her decades-old stories and accompanying black-and-white photos give off a musty, bygone-era scent, but her scholarship is spiced up by a rich, cultural chop suey of ethnic story-tellers.
Native Hawaiians justifiably command center stage in this collection, surprised on a dark road by the volcano goddess Pele and her phantom dog Poki; avoiding danger with the help of ‘aumakua (ancestral spirits) manifesting in the form of a pueo (owl) or mano (shark); averting their eyes as the legendary Night Marchers, ghostly spirits of Hawaiian warriors, tramp their torch-lit, chanting way down the mountains to the ocean along traditional trails – through bedrooms and kitchens of modern buildings unluckily blocking their path. Auntie Harriet Ne of Moloka’i shares with Judi a lifetime of “chicken skin” (pidgin for goose bumps) experiences, including pre-World War II encounters with menehune, survivors of the legendary race of small, elfish stonemasons whom Polynesian voyagers found working fishponds when they first arrived in Hawaii in 500 AD. Kalaupapa leper colony survivors speak cautiously of Moloka’i kahuna (priests) who enjoyed a particular reputation as sorcerers of ana’ana (black magic), able to tell the future or kill people with evil spells. Both animist Hawaiians as well as Buddhist-believing Japanese immigrants working on the sugar plantations recount witnessing mysterious, floating orbs of light playing in the cane fields – fireballs each group regarded as spirits of the dead (the Nisei called them sinotama; the Hawaiians akualele). Back in modern Honolulu, Chinese and Portuguese firefighters in the Nu’uanu and Kaka’ako stations reluctantly admit to being attacked by Chokeneck, an evil spirit who yanks off bed sheets, tosses men bodily out of their bunks, and sits on their chest trying to suffocate them while they sleep. To protect themselves, they stuff ti leaves under their mattresses (ti leaves protect against evil spirits; watch a televised Hawaii football game and you’ll see Hawaii fans waving them to ward off touchdowns by their opponents).
Thompson’s Hawaii stories echo universally reported paranormal experiences – ghosts, orbs, poltergeists, guardian spirits. Chokeneck matches the Old Hag syndrome. Native Hawaiian scholar Rubelite Johnson, professor of Indo-Pacific languages at the University of Hawaii, shares a family story involving her great-grandmother Ekikela who suffered a classic near-death experience right out of Raymond Moody’s Life After Life. The old Hawaiians don’t bury the body right away; they keep it around for several days since they believe the spirit of the deceased can sometimes be persuaded by offerings or incantations to return to the body. Grandma did just that. She described how she felt ill while working in the garden; collapsed and rose out of her body, traveling upwards towards the sunrise (light); came to a partially-opened door (barrier); looked inside to see a beautiful, heavenly place; tried to enter but was stopped by a firm hand and a stern voice which told her “You are not ready yet. You have to go back to your body”; reluctantly returned to her corpse; wiggled back in through the big toe, then blacked out and re-awoke surrounded by her overjoyed family.
For some unexplained reason, Thompson took 25 years to publish her supernatural stories. During that period, two Hawaii writers beat her to market. Journalist and travel writer Rick Carroll put together his breezy, popular, six-book “Spooky Tales” series. The late American studies professor and Honolulu Ghost Walks tour operator Dr. Glen Grant tapped a darker vein with his “Obake Files” series (obake is Japanese for “ghost”). I admit I got so scared reading one particularly graphic murder/spirit possession case that I threw the book unfinished into the garbage.
Thompson’s stories don’t deliver the fright of Grant’s best, or the easy-reads featured in Carroll’s collection, but you’ll learn a lot about a hidden Hawaii infinitely more entertaining than Don Ho and hokey hulas.
Halloween’s coming. Let’s celebrate the truly spooky!
Turn on your television any night (at least in the U.S) and you can shiver along with a half-dozen hit series, live or in rerun – Ghost Hunters and Ghost Hunters International (SciFi); Ghost Adventures (Travel Channel); Ghost Lab, and A Haunting (Discovery Channel); and Paranormal State (A&E).
Today’s investigators descend on a house or graveyard and chase ghosts with a truckload of 21st century toys – hi-def videocams, digital tape recorders, EMF detectors, infrared thermal scanners, thermometers and walkie-talkies.
Judi Thompson’s book “Supernatural Hawaii” features tales from a quainter era when folklorists chased ghosts with a simple notebook and pen. Thompson started collecting her oral histories in 1984 while working as executive editor at the Institute for Polynesian Studies. Her decades-old stories and accompanying black-and-white photos give off a musty, bygone-era scent, but her scholarship is spiced up by a rich, cultural chop suey of ethnic story-tellers.
Native Hawaiians justifiably command center stage in this collection, surprised on a dark road by the volcano goddess Pele and her phantom dog Poki; avoiding danger with the help of ‘aumakua (ancestral spirits) manifesting in the form of a pueo (owl) or mano (shark); averting their eyes as the legendary Night Marchers, ghostly spirits of Hawaiian warriors, tramp their torch-lit, chanting way down the mountains to the ocean along traditional trails – through bedrooms and kitchens of modern buildings unluckily blocking their path. Auntie Harriet Ne of Moloka’i shares with Judi a lifetime of “chicken skin” (pidgin for goose bumps) experiences, including pre-World War II encounters with menehune, survivors of the legendary race of small, elfish stonemasons whom Polynesian voyagers found working fishponds when they first arrived in Hawaii in 500 AD. Kalaupapa leper colony survivors speak cautiously of Moloka’i kahuna (priests) who enjoyed a particular reputation as sorcerers of ana’ana (black magic), able to tell the future or kill people with evil spells. Both animist Hawaiians as well as Buddhist-believing Japanese immigrants working on the sugar plantations recount witnessing mysterious, floating orbs of light playing in the cane fields – fireballs each group regarded as spirits of the dead (the Nisei called them sinotama; the Hawaiians akualele). Back in modern Honolulu, Chinese and Portuguese firefighters in the Nu’uanu and Kaka’ako stations reluctantly admit to being attacked by Chokeneck, an evil spirit who yanks off bed sheets, tosses men bodily out of their bunks, and sits on their chest trying to suffocate them while they sleep. To protect themselves, they stuff ti leaves under their mattresses (ti leaves protect against evil spirits; watch a televised Hawaii football game and you’ll see Hawaii fans waving them to ward off touchdowns by their opponents).
Thompson’s Hawaii stories echo universally reported paranormal experiences – ghosts, orbs, poltergeists, guardian spirits. Chokeneck matches the Old Hag syndrome. Native Hawaiian scholar Rubelite Johnson, professor of Indo-Pacific languages at the University of Hawaii, shares a family story involving her great-grandmother Ekikela who suffered a classic near-death experience right out of Raymond Moody’s Life After Life. The old Hawaiians don’t bury the body right away; they keep it around for several days since they believe the spirit of the deceased can sometimes be persuaded by offerings or incantations to return to the body. Grandma did just that. She described how she felt ill while working in the garden; collapsed and rose out of her body, traveling upwards towards the sunrise (light); came to a partially-opened door (barrier); looked inside to see a beautiful, heavenly place; tried to enter but was stopped by a firm hand and a stern voice which told her “You are not ready yet. You have to go back to your body”; reluctantly returned to her corpse; wiggled back in through the big toe, then blacked out and re-awoke surrounded by her overjoyed family.
For some unexplained reason, Thompson took 25 years to publish her supernatural stories. During that period, two Hawaii writers beat her to market. Journalist and travel writer Rick Carroll put together his breezy, popular, six-book “Spooky Tales” series. The late American studies professor and Honolulu Ghost Walks tour operator Dr. Glen Grant tapped a darker vein with his “Obake Files” series (obake is Japanese for “ghost”). I admit I got so scared reading one particularly graphic murder/spirit possession case that I threw the book unfinished into the garbage.
Thompson’s stories don’t deliver the fright of Grant’s best, or the easy-reads featured in Carroll’s collection, but you’ll learn a lot about a hidden Hawaii infinitely more entertaining than Don Ho and hokey hulas.
Halloween’s coming. Let’s celebrate the truly spooky!
