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Once Were Warriors Trilogy #1
Once Were Warriors
Once Were Warriors is Alan Duff's harrowing vision of his country's indigenous people two hundred years after the English conquest. In prose that is both raw and compelling, it tells the story of Beth Heke, a Maori woman struggling to keep her family from falling apart, despite the squalor and violence of the housing projects in which they live. Conveying both the rich textures of Maori tradition and the wounds left by its absence, Once Were Warriors is a masterpiece of unblinking realism, irresistible energy, and great sorrow.
192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
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4725 people want to read
About the author
Alan Duff
44 books57 followersAlan Duff (born October 26, 1950, Rotorua, New Zealand) is a New Zealand novelist and newspaper columnist, most well known as the author of Once Were Warriors. He began to write full-time in 1985.
He tried writing a thriller as his first novel, but it was rejected. He burned the manuscript and started writing Once Were Warriors, which had an immediate and great impact. The novel is written in juxtaposed interior monologues, making its style stand out from other works. It was winner of the PEN Best First Book Award, was runner-up in the Goodman Fielder Wattie Award, and was made into the award-winning film of the same name in 1994.
Another of his novels, One Night Out Stealing, appeared in 1991 and shortlisted in the 1992 Goodman Fielder Wattie Book Awards.
He was also awarded the Frank Sargeson Fellowship in 1991, and began writing a weekly -- later bi-weekly — column for the Evening Post (Wellington newspaper), syndicated to eight other newspapers. In this, and in his 1993 analysis, Māori: The Crisis and the Challenge, he has developed his ideas on the failures of Māoridom, castigating both the traditional leadership and the radical movement for dwelling on the injustices of the past and expecting others to resolve them, instead of encouraging Māori to get on and help themselves. The blame for Māori underperformance he puts squarely back on Māori, for not making the most of the opportunities given them. This somewhat simplistic message has proved highly controversial.
State Ward started as a series of episodes on radio in 1993 and was published as a novella in 1994.
The Books in Homes scheme, co-founded in 1995 by Duff and Christine Fernyhough, with commercial sponsorship and government support, aims to alleviate poverty and illiteracy by providing low-cost books to underprivileged children, thus encouraging them to read. In its first year alone it put about 180,000 new books in the hands of about 38,000 children. By 2008, the scheme delivered 5 million books to schools around New Zealand.
What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? (1996), the sequel to Once Were Warriors, was the winner of the fiction section of the 1997 Montana Book Awards and was also made in to a film in 1999. Two Sides of the Moon was published in 1998. Duff wrote his own memoir, Out of the Mist and the Steam, in 1999. His first novel to be set outside of New Zealand is Szabad (2001). Inspired by the stories of people Duff met during his several trips to Hungary, the story takes place in Budapest during the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. Jake's Long Shadow (2002) is the third volume in Duff's Once Were Warriors trilogy. In 2003 Once Were Warriors was brought to the stage across New Zealand as a musical drama.
He tried writing a thriller as his first novel, but it was rejected. He burned the manuscript and started writing Once Were Warriors, which had an immediate and great impact. The novel is written in juxtaposed interior monologues, making its style stand out from other works. It was winner of the PEN Best First Book Award, was runner-up in the Goodman Fielder Wattie Award, and was made into the award-winning film of the same name in 1994.
Another of his novels, One Night Out Stealing, appeared in 1991 and shortlisted in the 1992 Goodman Fielder Wattie Book Awards.
He was also awarded the Frank Sargeson Fellowship in 1991, and began writing a weekly -- later bi-weekly — column for the Evening Post (Wellington newspaper), syndicated to eight other newspapers. In this, and in his 1993 analysis, Māori: The Crisis and the Challenge, he has developed his ideas on the failures of Māoridom, castigating both the traditional leadership and the radical movement for dwelling on the injustices of the past and expecting others to resolve them, instead of encouraging Māori to get on and help themselves. The blame for Māori underperformance he puts squarely back on Māori, for not making the most of the opportunities given them. This somewhat simplistic message has proved highly controversial.
State Ward started as a series of episodes on radio in 1993 and was published as a novella in 1994.
The Books in Homes scheme, co-founded in 1995 by Duff and Christine Fernyhough, with commercial sponsorship and government support, aims to alleviate poverty and illiteracy by providing low-cost books to underprivileged children, thus encouraging them to read. In its first year alone it put about 180,000 new books in the hands of about 38,000 children. By 2008, the scheme delivered 5 million books to schools around New Zealand.
What Becomes of the Broken Hearted? (1996), the sequel to Once Were Warriors, was the winner of the fiction section of the 1997 Montana Book Awards and was also made in to a film in 1999. Two Sides of the Moon was published in 1998. Duff wrote his own memoir, Out of the Mist and the Steam, in 1999. His first novel to be set outside of New Zealand is Szabad (2001). Inspired by the stories of people Duff met during his several trips to Hungary, the story takes place in Budapest during the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. Jake's Long Shadow (2002) is the third volume in Duff's Once Were Warriors trilogy. In 2003 Once Were Warriors was brought to the stage across New Zealand as a musical drama.
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November 25, 2025
If two days ago I wrote that I do not like books that are written only for the shock value, now I write a review about a novel that is shocking and painful to read, but it has all the right to be this way.
I added this book to my TBR many years ago because I was in love with NZ after my visit there, and I wanted to also experience the seedier part of the country. Everything was too perfect and beautiful, and I knew that as a tourist, I could not get to know all that the country represents.
This novel tells the story of a Māori family living in urban community. The novel is set in the early 90', and the situation has changed in better for the Māori since then. However, it is important to know that things haven’t been so peachy for them in the quite recent past. The Heke family is formed by Kate, the alcoholic mother who wants to get back to the Māori warrior traditions and considers that her people should be proud of their past; the father, a lost and violent man who abuses his wife and anyone who dares to contradict him, Boogie, the elder son who is taken into state care; Grace, the daughter – the smartest of them all, and the youngest son who deals with some petty theft. They all struggle with poverty and the limits imposed by the society to their race. However, the book also discusses how much of the pain is actually self-inflicted. It is a brutal, brutal novel, we get to live in the mind of all the characters and it not always a pretty place. It will make you angry, sad, desperate, heartbroken, and in the end hopeful. There are so many trigger warning here, so I will mention a few: violence towards women, rape, suicide, alcohol abuse. However, it is an amazing novel about identity that I cannot recommend enough. Just go prepared into it. It will shatter you.
Original thoughts:
I am speechless. This was so raw and well written. The other side of Middle Earth. Nothing whimsical about this book. RTC
I added this book to my TBR many years ago because I was in love with NZ after my visit there, and I wanted to also experience the seedier part of the country. Everything was too perfect and beautiful, and I knew that as a tourist, I could not get to know all that the country represents.
This novel tells the story of a Māori family living in urban community. The novel is set in the early 90', and the situation has changed in better for the Māori since then. However, it is important to know that things haven’t been so peachy for them in the quite recent past. The Heke family is formed by Kate, the alcoholic mother who wants to get back to the Māori warrior traditions and considers that her people should be proud of their past; the father, a lost and violent man who abuses his wife and anyone who dares to contradict him, Boogie, the elder son who is taken into state care; Grace, the daughter – the smartest of them all, and the youngest son who deals with some petty theft. They all struggle with poverty and the limits imposed by the society to their race. However, the book also discusses how much of the pain is actually self-inflicted. It is a brutal, brutal novel, we get to live in the mind of all the characters and it not always a pretty place. It will make you angry, sad, desperate, heartbroken, and in the end hopeful. There are so many trigger warning here, so I will mention a few: violence towards women, rape, suicide, alcohol abuse. However, it is an amazing novel about identity that I cannot recommend enough. Just go prepared into it. It will shatter you.
Original thoughts:
I am speechless. This was so raw and well written. The other side of Middle Earth. Nothing whimsical about this book. RTC
July 8, 2014
This started out a book review, but it's also a bit of a personal essay, and it's not all pretty. And this is really long, consider yourselves warned :)
I thought about doing the 30 day book challenge, but there's always this one question in those kinds of things that make me pause. This time it was "A book that reminds you of home". And this book (and the devastatingly good movie made from it) are always the first thing that springs to mind.
Ironically the movie came up in a class this week (Cultural Studies class), and everyone turned to me as if to say "It's really overdramatised right?" And I had to tell them no, it's not. So I got stuck writing a paper on it, go me. And I can't, I just can't be academic and objective, because it hurts like a sonuvabitch. So I'm writing it out, in hopes that when I've spilled my soul out here, I won't have any left and I can write that damn paper.
If you don't know it, go watch this (movie trailer, under 2 minutes): Once Were Warriors Trailer
Now I'm not writing this to make anyone feel bad, just that all of us didn't grow up happy, or feeling loved, and home for me is a four letter word. I left when I was 15, not entirely voluntarily, but not entirely unhappily to be out of it either. I haven't spoken to most of my family in 15 years, and now that my grandparents are gone, I don't really have any reason to ever speak to any of them again.
So let's see, why does it remind me of home? Native minority poor, encouraged to urbanise and integrate into white society, but lacking the culture or skills to understand how to do so. Check. Institutionalised poverty. Check. Kids sitting in the car in the pub carpark with a bag of chips and a coke, if they're lucky, while mum and dad are in the pub drinking. Check. Preteen kids cleaning the house of broken beer bottles before school the next morning, after getting no sleep because the party spilled over to the house after the pub closed. Check. Kids sleeping under bridges, huffing superglue, because nobody gives a damn or takes them home, and oh well they're brown kids anyway. Check. Violence as a part of daily life - problems are solved with fists. Check. A complete disconnect from the kids own culture, because the above mentioned urbanization. Check.
For background, Maori make up about 15% of the population of NZ, and are economically doing pretty well right now. But this book is set before that happened, before the resurgence in culture and language and self-sovereignty. Back when we were being encouraged to integrate and assimilate and self-hate and ... lots of other things ending in ate. The title alludes to the fact that once upon a time, Maori were warriors, strong, independent, self-sufficient and proud. But isolated in cities, doing unskilled labour, and drinking away their wages, urban Maori in the 70's and 80's had very little to be proud of. (The book is actually set in the 50's, but it's pretty timeless. The movie is set in the 80's).
The plot? Well, we have Beth Heke, who grew up in a quite different environment, in one of the few Maori settlements that retained it's integrity and connection to the culture - but gave it up for a city boy, Jake. And Jake the Muss (short for muscles) is handsome and charming, and he took her away to the city and they had fine children, but he's a mean mean drunk, and with no hope and nothing really to look forward to, he drinks a lot. And to escape the pain, so does Beth.
The kids are more or less dragging themselves up, and not doing a spectacular job of it: The eldest, Nig, is 18 and joins a gang, just seeking to belong somewhere because he sure doesn't belong at home, and the next oldest is continuously being caught at petty crime, 12 year old Grace is struggling to still see the beauty of the world, with her battered notebook of stories and drawings, many based on Maori legends, and stuck with being a mother figure to the youngest ones.
Two things happen that catalyse things for this damaged family: The story opens with the second oldest son arrested once too many times, and taken away to the foster care, in the hands of an old warrior who still remembers what that means. Now even Beth can't continue to pretend that her family isn't broken. Especially when the reason she can't be there to defend him and ask for him to allowed to come home, is because she can barely stand from the beating she got the night before.
And she tries, she really tries to fix it, but some things just can't be fixed. And so she falls back into the same patterns, the drinking and living with violence, until it all comes to a head in a tragedy that was more or less inevitable. Because some people can survive horrible things happening to them, and some can't, especially when they are young and alone and sensitive.
And I'll tell you now, there is a happy ending, but not in the "and everyone lived their wildest dreams forever after" sense, but more in a "rage, rage against the dying of the light" sense. Beth finds strength and reconnects with her true self, and her family and her culture, and finally does fix things, but it's too late for at least one of the children, and it's far far too late for Jake, who is just too damaged to save. But Beth finally stops going gentle into anyone's night and takes her life and her children's into her own hands, and you get a sense that maybe the light isn't dying after all, it's just the dark before a dawn.
Thing is, I could have been Beth Heke. My mother pretty much was. And I could have been Grace, except I was luckier than her. And when people say "oh you're from New Zealand, it's so beautiful there, how could you ever leave", I want to hand them a copy of this book and say "this is why". Except I don't, because they saw Lord of the Rings and all that spectacular scenery and all the happy brown people in the tourist ads, and they just don't want to hear it.
And yes, I know things have changed, and a lot, but there's things you can't forgive, and places that even thinking about going to are painful, so I smile and nod and say "yes, it's very beautiful". I mean look at this picture: I used to live here, for the last couple of years before I left NZ, my old house is just off the left of the picture. People see these pictures and just think "ahh, heavenly" and there's so much more to it than that.
Taurikura
If you read this far, you're probably thinking you don't want to read this book, but really, it's good. There's a reason it's a NZ classic. But it's bleak, and violent and angry, and well. Maybe you should get the movie. It's not a fun read, and I doubt anyone who ever read it said they loved it the way you can love something that makes you happy. But if you think NZ is all sunshine and hobbits, this will give you a very different view.
Warning though, there is some serious violence including (really don't click this if you are sensitive):
And I am still too angry/sad to write any kind of academic analysis of either of them.
I thought about doing the 30 day book challenge, but there's always this one question in those kinds of things that make me pause. This time it was "A book that reminds you of home". And this book (and the devastatingly good movie made from it) are always the first thing that springs to mind.
Ironically the movie came up in a class this week (Cultural Studies class), and everyone turned to me as if to say "It's really overdramatised right?" And I had to tell them no, it's not. So I got stuck writing a paper on it, go me. And I can't, I just can't be academic and objective, because it hurts like a sonuvabitch. So I'm writing it out, in hopes that when I've spilled my soul out here, I won't have any left and I can write that damn paper.
If you don't know it, go watch this (movie trailer, under 2 minutes): Once Were Warriors Trailer
Now I'm not writing this to make anyone feel bad, just that all of us didn't grow up happy, or feeling loved, and home for me is a four letter word. I left when I was 15, not entirely voluntarily, but not entirely unhappily to be out of it either. I haven't spoken to most of my family in 15 years, and now that my grandparents are gone, I don't really have any reason to ever speak to any of them again.
So let's see, why does it remind me of home? Native minority poor, encouraged to urbanise and integrate into white society, but lacking the culture or skills to understand how to do so. Check. Institutionalised poverty. Check. Kids sitting in the car in the pub carpark with a bag of chips and a coke, if they're lucky, while mum and dad are in the pub drinking. Check. Preteen kids cleaning the house of broken beer bottles before school the next morning, after getting no sleep because the party spilled over to the house after the pub closed. Check. Kids sleeping under bridges, huffing superglue, because nobody gives a damn or takes them home, and oh well they're brown kids anyway. Check. Violence as a part of daily life - problems are solved with fists. Check. A complete disconnect from the kids own culture, because the above mentioned urbanization. Check.
For background, Maori make up about 15% of the population of NZ, and are economically doing pretty well right now. But this book is set before that happened, before the resurgence in culture and language and self-sovereignty. Back when we were being encouraged to integrate and assimilate and self-hate and ... lots of other things ending in ate. The title alludes to the fact that once upon a time, Maori were warriors, strong, independent, self-sufficient and proud. But isolated in cities, doing unskilled labour, and drinking away their wages, urban Maori in the 70's and 80's had very little to be proud of. (The book is actually set in the 50's, but it's pretty timeless. The movie is set in the 80's).
The plot? Well, we have Beth Heke, who grew up in a quite different environment, in one of the few Maori settlements that retained it's integrity and connection to the culture - but gave it up for a city boy, Jake. And Jake the Muss (short for muscles) is handsome and charming, and he took her away to the city and they had fine children, but he's a mean mean drunk, and with no hope and nothing really to look forward to, he drinks a lot. And to escape the pain, so does Beth.
The kids are more or less dragging themselves up, and not doing a spectacular job of it: The eldest, Nig, is 18 and joins a gang, just seeking to belong somewhere because he sure doesn't belong at home, and the next oldest is continuously being caught at petty crime, 12 year old Grace is struggling to still see the beauty of the world, with her battered notebook of stories and drawings, many based on Maori legends, and stuck with being a mother figure to the youngest ones.
Two things happen that catalyse things for this damaged family: The story opens with the second oldest son arrested once too many times, and taken away to the foster care, in the hands of an old warrior who still remembers what that means. Now even Beth can't continue to pretend that her family isn't broken. Especially when the reason she can't be there to defend him and ask for him to allowed to come home, is because she can barely stand from the beating she got the night before.
And she tries, she really tries to fix it, but some things just can't be fixed. And so she falls back into the same patterns, the drinking and living with violence, until it all comes to a head in a tragedy that was more or less inevitable. Because some people can survive horrible things happening to them, and some can't, especially when they are young and alone and sensitive.
And I'll tell you now, there is a happy ending, but not in the "and everyone lived their wildest dreams forever after" sense, but more in a "rage, rage against the dying of the light" sense. Beth finds strength and reconnects with her true self, and her family and her culture, and finally does fix things, but it's too late for at least one of the children, and it's far far too late for Jake, who is just too damaged to save. But Beth finally stops going gentle into anyone's night and takes her life and her children's into her own hands, and you get a sense that maybe the light isn't dying after all, it's just the dark before a dawn.
Thing is, I could have been Beth Heke. My mother pretty much was. And I could have been Grace, except I was luckier than her. And when people say "oh you're from New Zealand, it's so beautiful there, how could you ever leave", I want to hand them a copy of this book and say "this is why". Except I don't, because they saw Lord of the Rings and all that spectacular scenery and all the happy brown people in the tourist ads, and they just don't want to hear it.
And yes, I know things have changed, and a lot, but there's things you can't forgive, and places that even thinking about going to are painful, so I smile and nod and say "yes, it's very beautiful". I mean look at this picture: I used to live here, for the last couple of years before I left NZ, my old house is just off the left of the picture. People see these pictures and just think "ahh, heavenly" and there's so much more to it than that.
Taurikura
If you read this far, you're probably thinking you don't want to read this book, but really, it's good. There's a reason it's a NZ classic. But it's bleak, and violent and angry, and well. Maybe you should get the movie. It's not a fun read, and I doubt anyone who ever read it said they loved it the way you can love something that makes you happy. But if you think NZ is all sunshine and hobbits, this will give you a very different view.
Warning though, there is some serious violence including (really don't click this if you are sensitive):
And I am still too angry/sad to write any kind of academic analysis of either of them.
November 10, 2018
Well. That was (as expected) a full on read. Once Were Warriors is a critically important, confronting story of the colonial legacy of disenfranchisement, victimisation, cultural dislocation, poverty and violence in New Zealand. This novel is an uncompromising portrait of the issues in New Zealand society that are most difficult for us to knowledge, and even harder still to begin to mend. Although almost 20 years old, sadly, this story hasn’t dated nearly as much as we’d like to imagine it is. It is a story about what it’s like to live a really hard life, and how difficult it is to escape a cycle of poverty, violence and neglect, what it is like to be an outsider in your own land, and the importance of our history. I was immensely moved by this.
July 20, 2024
If you can stomach it, you should read it. If you can't, wait until you can, then read it. That's how important this is.
Rating: 4 stars
New Zealand is known as the naturally beautiful backdrop of Middle-earth. It's that country that is (mostly) free from covid restrictions. That country who let women vote before anyone else did. That country with the rugby team. The second safest country in the world, for goodness sake. But we are also a country with real problems (but then again, no nation is perfect).
I was going to write a bunch here about my country's history, but it got too rambly and tangent-y, plus if you really care you can google it yourself. Basically, in our whopping 181 year history (yeah. We were settled in 1840. I often call us a "baby country") the native population of New Zealand had (and still has) problems with family violence, gang violence, alcohol and drug abuse from all ages. As a result, they struggled to gain an education and enter the workforce. Plus the European settlers did their thing and "neglected" teach Māori about their own culture and history, leaving generations completely separate from their personal cultural identity. (I said I wouldn’t talk about it, but here I am). This book does not exaggerate for entertainment. I know families like this.
But we have improved. Māori have been given back their pride in the last few decades, and their culture is once again becoming public knowledge. I, despite being Pākehā (aka white), know more about our indigenous people's history than most of the native Māori in this book through weekly Te Reo lessons at school. Even in my parent's generation, school assemblies were so saturated with traditional waiata (songs) that the tunes are as well known nationally as the Pizza Hut jingle. Yes, we still have a way to go (because autocorrect keeps telling me all these Māori words are spelled wrong even now as I type this) but I'd like to think the future doesn't look quite as bleak for Māori anymore as Alan Duff portrays in his book. Or that there is at least a little more hope.
I'm going to leave this book at 4 stars for now, just because the way it was told made it sometimes difficult to understand. It seems shorter than it actually is because conversations are just lumped together in one paragraph without quotation marks or the new-speaker-new-line rule. This may be a stylistic decision, like most of the "grammar" choices in this book (seriously, every single sentence would have a green squiggly line under it) but it made it tricky to understand sometimes nonetheless. I recommend the audiobook if you think you might struggle with this too, because it kind of goes like: Hi. Hi. Long time no see. Yeah. Where you been? Just around. I ain't seen you. Yeah. You avoiding me? Nah. (This doesn't actually happen in this book, I was just making stuff up). So it's a 9 hour audiobook but 248 physical pages, yet I have another 9 hour audio (that is actually about 10 minutes shorter) which is a 380-400 page book. Maybe once I sit on it a bit I'll change it to 5 stars, but regardless, Once Were Warriors is a damn good book.
(I'll save you the trouble of looking up trigger warnings: child rape, suicide, heavy swearing, gang/family violence, substance abuse, sex scenes)
Rating: 4 stars
New Zealand is known as the naturally beautiful backdrop of Middle-earth. It's that country that is (mostly) free from covid restrictions. That country who let women vote before anyone else did. That country with the rugby team. The second safest country in the world, for goodness sake. But we are also a country with real problems (but then again, no nation is perfect).
I was going to write a bunch here about my country's history, but it got too rambly and tangent-y, plus if you really care you can google it yourself. Basically, in our whopping 181 year history (yeah. We were settled in 1840. I often call us a "baby country") the native population of New Zealand had (and still has) problems with family violence, gang violence, alcohol and drug abuse from all ages. As a result, they struggled to gain an education and enter the workforce. Plus the European settlers did their thing and "neglected" teach Māori about their own culture and history, leaving generations completely separate from their personal cultural identity. (I said I wouldn’t talk about it, but here I am). This book does not exaggerate for entertainment. I know families like this.
But we have improved. Māori have been given back their pride in the last few decades, and their culture is once again becoming public knowledge. I, despite being Pākehā (aka white), know more about our indigenous people's history than most of the native Māori in this book through weekly Te Reo lessons at school. Even in my parent's generation, school assemblies were so saturated with traditional waiata (songs) that the tunes are as well known nationally as the Pizza Hut jingle. Yes, we still have a way to go (because autocorrect keeps telling me all these Māori words are spelled wrong even now as I type this) but I'd like to think the future doesn't look quite as bleak for Māori anymore as Alan Duff portrays in his book. Or that there is at least a little more hope.
I'm going to leave this book at 4 stars for now, just because the way it was told made it sometimes difficult to understand. It seems shorter than it actually is because conversations are just lumped together in one paragraph without quotation marks or the new-speaker-new-line rule. This may be a stylistic decision, like most of the "grammar" choices in this book (seriously, every single sentence would have a green squiggly line under it) but it made it tricky to understand sometimes nonetheless. I recommend the audiobook if you think you might struggle with this too, because it kind of goes like: Hi. Hi. Long time no see. Yeah. Where you been? Just around. I ain't seen you. Yeah. You avoiding me? Nah. (This doesn't actually happen in this book, I was just making stuff up). So it's a 9 hour audiobook but 248 physical pages, yet I have another 9 hour audio (that is actually about 10 minutes shorter) which is a 380-400 page book. Maybe once I sit on it a bit I'll change it to 5 stars, but regardless, Once Were Warriors is a damn good book.
(I'll save you the trouble of looking up trigger warnings: child rape, suicide, heavy swearing, gang/family violence, substance abuse, sex scenes)
October 18, 2015
It took a while to read this rather short book of fiction for two reasons. First, because it written in a dialect using the thoughts of characters damaged by hardships and violence, alcohol and lost or lacking education. And second, because the subject matter was so tough it was hard to handle much in one sitting.
The story takes place in an urban New Zealand Maori community. The family depicted is fathered by Jake Heke, a fists-always-ready man whose prowess hinges on intimidation. His medium is beer and his friends are a drunken lot of the same ilk. The children of his family and seemingly the entire community are left to fend for themselves on the streets. Heke’s wife, Beth, has a strain of white in her. In her marriage to Jake she has also succumbed to drink and beatings when she speaks her mind.
And this is the beginning. They have a handful of children, Nig, the oldest at seventeen, yearns to belong to the Brown Fists. The Brown Fists exist in reality. And as gangs go, they rate right up there in the violence factor. The second son, Boog, has a soft heart but ends up being taken away by the state when only his sister Grace is with him at his trial. And Grace, begins as the saving grace of the family, but becomes a symbol of the utter hopelessness of the Maori lives in their hopeless community and her story should tear any parent’s heart apart. But without giving anything away, I’ll say that she also becomes the catalyst of change.
So change does begin and hope starts to push it’s way into the community by the book’s end, but it’s a really tough story, authentically brought to life through realistic thoughts and language.
My enjoyment of the book was so low, that it’s tempting to give it a low rating. But the writing is so well executed and it is a story needs to be told. And a story that needs to reach readers like me. Another book I would never have read if not for the Goodreads community. Kudos.
(Note: This is the first of a series, but it works as a stand-alone book.)
The story takes place in an urban New Zealand Maori community. The family depicted is fathered by Jake Heke, a fists-always-ready man whose prowess hinges on intimidation. His medium is beer and his friends are a drunken lot of the same ilk. The children of his family and seemingly the entire community are left to fend for themselves on the streets. Heke’s wife, Beth, has a strain of white in her. In her marriage to Jake she has also succumbed to drink and beatings when she speaks her mind.
And this is the beginning. They have a handful of children, Nig, the oldest at seventeen, yearns to belong to the Brown Fists. The Brown Fists exist in reality. And as gangs go, they rate right up there in the violence factor. The second son, Boog, has a soft heart but ends up being taken away by the state when only his sister Grace is with him at his trial. And Grace, begins as the saving grace of the family, but becomes a symbol of the utter hopelessness of the Maori lives in their hopeless community and her story should tear any parent’s heart apart. But without giving anything away, I’ll say that she also becomes the catalyst of change.
So change does begin and hope starts to push it’s way into the community by the book’s end, but it’s a really tough story, authentically brought to life through realistic thoughts and language.
My enjoyment of the book was so low, that it’s tempting to give it a low rating. But the writing is so well executed and it is a story needs to be told. And a story that needs to reach readers like me. Another book I would never have read if not for the Goodreads community. Kudos.
(Note: This is the first of a series, but it works as a stand-alone book.)
November 22, 2015
I read this book as part of my self-proclaimed New Zealand November. It was in a pile loaned by a professor who worked for years in Australia.
This was a very difficult read for several reasons. One is the violence - it is set in the middle of the 20th century, in urban New Zealand, where people descended from native New Zealanders - former warriors - are now marginalized and living in poverty. This leads to the usual issues of alcohol and drug abuse, domestic violence, unsupervised children, death, suicide, gangs. It centers around a couple - Jake and Beth, and their children. It is graphic, it is unrelenting, it is harsh. But from what I understand of that period, accurate. If you think of New Zealand in rolling green hills and hobbitses, even just taking a look at the trailer for the movie version should set you right.
The second reason this is difficult to read is that it alternates between 3-4 characters - the parents, and 1-2 children. As a reader I didn't want to be in any of their heads. The father is a drunk and abusive, violent and feared. The mother is abused but turns her victimization into neglect of her children. At the start of the novel one of her sons is removed from her home. The daughter deals with trying to care for herself and her siblings, while enduring sexual assault, resorting to huffing, etc. The prose is dense yet meandering, very much inside the characters' heads.
From what I understand, while not everything is perfect these days in New Zealand, some effort has gone into raising the standards of the Maori people within the country (although I read a play set in 2000 that expressed disbelief that tourists would hitchhike, believing it to be safe.) Maori culture has been adopted (appropriated? it's hard to know where that line is from the outside!) by everything from rugby to the military. At least in honoring the culture of warriors, perhaps that pulls them from the margins? I'm not certain. But I felt this book raises many questions like that and is worth a read.
This was a very difficult read for several reasons. One is the violence - it is set in the middle of the 20th century, in urban New Zealand, where people descended from native New Zealanders - former warriors - are now marginalized and living in poverty. This leads to the usual issues of alcohol and drug abuse, domestic violence, unsupervised children, death, suicide, gangs. It centers around a couple - Jake and Beth, and their children. It is graphic, it is unrelenting, it is harsh. But from what I understand of that period, accurate. If you think of New Zealand in rolling green hills and hobbitses, even just taking a look at the trailer for the movie version should set you right.
The second reason this is difficult to read is that it alternates between 3-4 characters - the parents, and 1-2 children. As a reader I didn't want to be in any of their heads. The father is a drunk and abusive, violent and feared. The mother is abused but turns her victimization into neglect of her children. At the start of the novel one of her sons is removed from her home. The daughter deals with trying to care for herself and her siblings, while enduring sexual assault, resorting to huffing, etc. The prose is dense yet meandering, very much inside the characters' heads.
From what I understand, while not everything is perfect these days in New Zealand, some effort has gone into raising the standards of the Maori people within the country (although I read a play set in 2000 that expressed disbelief that tourists would hitchhike, believing it to be safe.) Maori culture has been adopted (appropriated? it's hard to know where that line is from the outside!) by everything from rugby to the military. At least in honoring the culture of warriors, perhaps that pulls them from the margins? I'm not certain. But I felt this book raises many questions like that and is worth a read.
April 29, 2015
I don't know if I can say I actually liked this book. I recognize its importance, and it had a huge impact on me.
Once Were Warriors is a brutal account of a Maori family who lives in government housing and receives welfare money. The father, Jake, lost his job, but didn't bother finding a new one as he got paid nearly as much to not work at all. Since he gives half his welfare check to his wife to maintain the household and feed their six children, he feels like a pretty good guy. He keeps the other half so he can pay for beer and food for himself. When he's drunk, he beats his wife. The mother, Beth, tries to keep her home neat and take care of her kids, but all to often, she is drunk as well. The oldest son is joining the local gang. The next son is taken by child and family services and put in a boy's home. The next, a daughter, tries to take care of the younger ones and dreams of a better life. However, she is repeatedly molested at night during her parents parties and is afraid to talk to her mother about it. Eventually, she becomes so depressed she hangs herself. This event serves as a wake-up call for Beth. She begins to connect with the history of her people. She finds the strength to kick Jake out of the house and take control of her life. Desperately sad for the loss of her children, she goes out into the neighborhood and gathers up the lost, lonely, hungry children and begins to feed them. First with food, then with stories of their warrior history. As stark and painful as this story is, the ending is hopeful. There is a sense that even one person doing just a little can make a big difference.
Although this book is mainly intended as a story of the pain and struggle of the Maori people, I believe it translates into any language and any time and place. It is the story of people who have lost hope, who don't have pride in themselves. It is the culture that is created when the men don't have jobs and drink to escape. It is the culture that is created when the women take the beatings and their children watch and hear. And then in their pain they lash out at anyone who tries to find something better, as though it was a personal insult. It is found in every race and every culture. Finding a solution to the evils of poverty and ignorance is the main problem of humanity.
Why was this book so difficult to read? So many reasons. Obviously, the content is really rough. It would be nearly impossible to tell this type of story without using brutal language and images. Another thing that is difficult about it is the style of writing. Alan Duff writes like he is inside the heads of the characters. There aren't quotation marks defining who is talking and often there aren't really clear transitions between characters. This style is difficult to read, but also lends weight to the story being told. The reader is looking out at the world through the eyes of the characters and seeing what they see and feeling what they feel. It is very personal. And that is the thing that really got to me. It is so personal. I can look around me and see people who are living like Jake and Beth in the story. I can see people trying to escape that life and the struggle it is for them. And now, thanks to Alan Duff, I have seen it through the eyes of someone living it and I know more than I used to.
Once Were Warriors is a brutal account of a Maori family who lives in government housing and receives welfare money. The father, Jake, lost his job, but didn't bother finding a new one as he got paid nearly as much to not work at all. Since he gives half his welfare check to his wife to maintain the household and feed their six children, he feels like a pretty good guy. He keeps the other half so he can pay for beer and food for himself. When he's drunk, he beats his wife. The mother, Beth, tries to keep her home neat and take care of her kids, but all to often, she is drunk as well. The oldest son is joining the local gang. The next son is taken by child and family services and put in a boy's home. The next, a daughter, tries to take care of the younger ones and dreams of a better life. However, she is repeatedly molested at night during her parents parties and is afraid to talk to her mother about it. Eventually, she becomes so depressed she hangs herself. This event serves as a wake-up call for Beth. She begins to connect with the history of her people. She finds the strength to kick Jake out of the house and take control of her life. Desperately sad for the loss of her children, she goes out into the neighborhood and gathers up the lost, lonely, hungry children and begins to feed them. First with food, then with stories of their warrior history. As stark and painful as this story is, the ending is hopeful. There is a sense that even one person doing just a little can make a big difference.
Although this book is mainly intended as a story of the pain and struggle of the Maori people, I believe it translates into any language and any time and place. It is the story of people who have lost hope, who don't have pride in themselves. It is the culture that is created when the men don't have jobs and drink to escape. It is the culture that is created when the women take the beatings and their children watch and hear. And then in their pain they lash out at anyone who tries to find something better, as though it was a personal insult. It is found in every race and every culture. Finding a solution to the evils of poverty and ignorance is the main problem of humanity.
Why was this book so difficult to read? So many reasons. Obviously, the content is really rough. It would be nearly impossible to tell this type of story without using brutal language and images. Another thing that is difficult about it is the style of writing. Alan Duff writes like he is inside the heads of the characters. There aren't quotation marks defining who is talking and often there aren't really clear transitions between characters. This style is difficult to read, but also lends weight to the story being told. The reader is looking out at the world through the eyes of the characters and seeing what they see and feeling what they feel. It is very personal. And that is the thing that really got to me. It is so personal. I can look around me and see people who are living like Jake and Beth in the story. I can see people trying to escape that life and the struggle it is for them. And now, thanks to Alan Duff, I have seen it through the eyes of someone living it and I know more than I used to.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 25, 2015
Oscar Wilde is reported as saying, "There are no good books or bad books. A book is well written or badly written. That is all."
Well, I don't know if he actually said that. (Like Twain and Franklin, ol' Oscar gets attributed boatloads of things he never actually wrote.) I'm not sure I'd agree with it straight across the board, but there are some extremely well written books out there that make damned uncomfortable reading--and yet you read them. This is one.
A friend of mine had to read this book for Other Culture Sources (degree in Eng Lit) and she brought it to me, totally confused. That's understandable when English was not her native language! I told her, "Start by reading the first chapter aloud. Once you get the rhythm etc it is easier." She said it helped.
Be warned, this is not lilywhite travelogue fiction. This is angry, sweaty, sad "Shit Happens, and this is what happened" fiction. And it's not terribly fictional--as in, people live like this, and not just in NZ.
Don't read it if you don't want to think about it for days afterward.
Well, I don't know if he actually said that. (Like Twain and Franklin, ol' Oscar gets attributed boatloads of things he never actually wrote.) I'm not sure I'd agree with it straight across the board, but there are some extremely well written books out there that make damned uncomfortable reading--and yet you read them. This is one.
A friend of mine had to read this book for Other Culture Sources (degree in Eng Lit) and she brought it to me, totally confused. That's understandable when English was not her native language! I told her, "Start by reading the first chapter aloud. Once you get the rhythm etc it is easier." She said it helped.
Be warned, this is not lilywhite travelogue fiction. This is angry, sweaty, sad "Shit Happens, and this is what happened" fiction. And it's not terribly fictional--as in, people live like this, and not just in NZ.
Don't read it if you don't want to think about it for days afterward.
May 4, 2024
Very frank and unflinching in its depiction of poverty, violence, substance and alcohol abuse, sexual assault, suicide. The 4 stars isn’t for enjoyment. Erosion of Māori culture and broken communities left. Takes the safe beautiful NZ image and absolutely throws it in the trash. And good riddance too. The concept at the beginning about bookless homes is really sad, and on that point I give a s/o to Duffy books (iykyk). Want to give my copy to Luxon to read. He might learn some things.
November 25, 2015
Once Were Warriors comes at you like a slap (or more likely, a punch) in the face. The writing is harsh and certainly doesn't waste time with niceties, but it's engaging and often surprisingly beautiful. The characters are tragic, living in the limbo of poverty, addiction, and abuse. The story is shockingly, heartbreakingly real.
One of the most striking moments for me came right at the beginning, when Beth considers the lack of books in their home, or the homes of any of her neighbours and friends. This was such a contrast with my own childhood, I couldn't stop thinking about it, much the same as Beth herself. It might be interesting for other readers to know that Alan Duff began his own charitable organisation, Duffy Books in Homes, which now provides New Zealand schools in low socio-economic areas with at least five free books per year, per child. Having worked in such a school myself, I've seen the books being delivered, and the excitement on the student's faces as they open them up and start reading. It's wonderful to see the author was inspired to initiate this.
Of course this is a story based on experience, but I do think Alan Duff's personal voice and thoughts came through a little too much at times through Beth. Additionally, some points of the ending seemed a little too suddenly and neatly tied up for me. But overall, I very much enjoyed this book, and look forward to reading the sequels and seeing the movie adaptations.
One of the most striking moments for me came right at the beginning, when Beth considers the lack of books in their home, or the homes of any of her neighbours and friends. This was such a contrast with my own childhood, I couldn't stop thinking about it, much the same as Beth herself. It might be interesting for other readers to know that Alan Duff began his own charitable organisation, Duffy Books in Homes, which now provides New Zealand schools in low socio-economic areas with at least five free books per year, per child. Having worked in such a school myself, I've seen the books being delivered, and the excitement on the student's faces as they open them up and start reading. It's wonderful to see the author was inspired to initiate this.
Of course this is a story based on experience, but I do think Alan Duff's personal voice and thoughts came through a little too much at times through Beth. Additionally, some points of the ending seemed a little too suddenly and neatly tied up for me. But overall, I very much enjoyed this book, and look forward to reading the sequels and seeing the movie adaptations.
June 21, 2016
I saw the film years ago and it is devastating. And very accurate, sadly. This book is not cute. People see NZ as beautiful but you can't live on landscapes. NZ is also a world leader (or close to it) in so many things that we can't feel proud of - youth suicide, teenage pregnancy, family violence, especially to children. Poverty breeds these things and there is plenty of that here. Machismo is the way to go for many NZers; it is still seen as 'being strong'. The men here remain inarticulate (a generalisation, of course) which I think contributes; it's hard to deal with emotions if you have no way of expressing them.
This story of the disintegration of a family that was already brutalised is painful to read: how much more painful must it be to live it - and I know families like it who can be seen. There are many more who are less visible but just as toxic. The events as they unfold in the story are entirely believeable. Do also see the film - especially if you did NOT come from a violent background. If you did, both book and film may constitute Groundhog Day and you are excused from reading it. Unless you want to, of course!
This story of the disintegration of a family that was already brutalised is painful to read: how much more painful must it be to live it - and I know families like it who can be seen. There are many more who are less visible but just as toxic. The events as they unfold in the story are entirely believeable. Do also see the film - especially if you did NOT come from a violent background. If you did, both book and film may constitute Groundhog Day and you are excused from reading it. Unless you want to, of course!
February 7, 2013
I'm actually on the fence. I really liked the book, as much as you can like a depressing book that has a fairly predictable plot, because I do feel like it was written from a deep personal reflection (the author is half Maori I believe)? However I think the danger in these types of novels is if it is all you read about Maoris you think, "oh I know their story - drunks, addicts, abusers" and there you go, you've categorized a whole racial group.
As long as you remember that this is fiction and also one perspective, then I think it's a good (if sad) book. Worth a read if you are going to NZ for the first time and are trying to get a non guide book introduction. (although, I recommend reading another book about Maoris, which I had so I knew some of the terms they threw around (about the tattoos, fights, feasts, etc) as the author assumes you are familiar with them.
As long as you remember that this is fiction and also one perspective, then I think it's a good (if sad) book. Worth a read if you are going to NZ for the first time and are trying to get a non guide book introduction. (although, I recommend reading another book about Maoris, which I had so I knew some of the terms they threw around (about the tattoos, fights, feasts, etc) as the author assumes you are familiar with them.
October 29, 2022
A powerful, tragic, intense, memorable, vivid short novel about an Urban Māori family. Beth Heke, a Māori woman, struggles to keep her family from falling apart. Her husband, Jake Heke, is a tough, unemployed, brutal man who drinks to excess and beats up his wife. The Heke’s younger son has been placed in a juvenile hall. Beth becomes fed up with the constant drinking parties that always end in fights. She stops drinking alcohol. Jake’s drunkenness leads to tragic consequences.
The book is told from the inner thoughts of a number of the characters. I particularly liked the vividness and intensity of the scene where Jake walks into a hotel barroom, where everyone knows him, and an individual confronts Jake.
A recommended read.
This book was first published in 1990.
The book is told from the inner thoughts of a number of the characters. I particularly liked the vividness and intensity of the scene where Jake walks into a hotel barroom, where everyone knows him, and an individual confronts Jake.
A recommended read.
This book was first published in 1990.
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March 20, 2015While this is certainly a powerful and revealing novel, I feel there's a danger of reinforcing negative stereotypes, especially since there's a sense that blame is being laid squarely on the Maori people themselves. There isn't much examination of structural inequalities and influences, and the message is one of self-help. I was fascinated by the links Duff makes between traditional Maori values and notions of warrior-hood and the way Jake views masculinity and his own self-worth, and I appreciate the fact that Jake was given a personality, a history, hopes, fears and insecurities, rather than just being painted as a monster who beats his wife and neglects his kids. However, I feel that something was missing between Beth confronting Jake about Grace's note, and Beth deciding to go out onto the streets and change things. While previously we were able to read Beth's every thought process and emotion, it seems as though at some point all of that was ignored; so things like Beth's emotional state, the difficulties she might've faced in trying to pull herself away from an abusive relationship with a man she loved, and what brought her to her decision to bring the Maori chief to Pine Block weren't really addressed as much as I would've hoped. An important book, but not to be taken as the be-all and end-all, but rather a novel based on the author's personal experiences and point of view.
December 2, 2021
It is hard to review this one as I am still not sure if I enjoyed it or not. It is a powerful and tragic novel about the struggles of a community of Maori people. Though this is written and based in the early 90’s I would imagine it still relates to the present day and to various communities around the world.
The problem I found was the writing was difficult to get into. It was written from the point of view of various characters but there were no speech marks and I found myself feeling unsure about who was talking. Also the style of writing felt very chaotic and muddled. However, I understand why it was probably written in this way, as it was trying to get you to see inside these characters heads and their scrambled thoughts.
There are a lot of upsetting scenes such as rape, domestic violence and suicide. One scene in particular really made me feel emotional and I felt myself getting choked up reading it. The author manages to let you witness and feel the pain and suffering the Maori people go through and how they are cast aside in a country that is full of white privilege.
It is a poignant, heart breaking story but it also shows you there is hope. Hope for those shattered communities and how people can all come together to try and escape out of a vicious cycle of bad habits, even if the odds seem to be against them.
The problem I found was the writing was difficult to get into. It was written from the point of view of various characters but there were no speech marks and I found myself feeling unsure about who was talking. Also the style of writing felt very chaotic and muddled. However, I understand why it was probably written in this way, as it was trying to get you to see inside these characters heads and their scrambled thoughts.
There are a lot of upsetting scenes such as rape, domestic violence and suicide. One scene in particular really made me feel emotional and I felt myself getting choked up reading it. The author manages to let you witness and feel the pain and suffering the Maori people go through and how they are cast aside in a country that is full of white privilege.
It is a poignant, heart breaking story but it also shows you there is hope. Hope for those shattered communities and how people can all come together to try and escape out of a vicious cycle of bad habits, even if the odds seem to be against them.
February 26, 2025
Wow.
I thought I was prepared for this, having seen the movie (and been blown away by it) a few times now.
I was wrong.
This book hits as hard as Jake "The Muss" Heke. The punches keep on coming and never let up, but it's a book impossible to put down, getting drawn in right from page 1.
As expected, there's a lot more in the book than the movie, and getting to really know the characters through each individual's stream-of-conciousness narration sheds all kinds of lights on the story that it was unable to do visually. What did surprise me, is how several of the characters are actually displayed in a far more sympathetic light in the movie than they are the book. If you've seen the movie, and how unsympathetic they tend to be, you'll understand the surprise!
An absolute must read.
I thought I was prepared for this, having seen the movie (and been blown away by it) a few times now.
I was wrong.
This book hits as hard as Jake "The Muss" Heke. The punches keep on coming and never let up, but it's a book impossible to put down, getting drawn in right from page 1.
As expected, there's a lot more in the book than the movie, and getting to really know the characters through each individual's stream-of-conciousness narration sheds all kinds of lights on the story that it was unable to do visually. What did surprise me, is how several of the characters are actually displayed in a far more sympathetic light in the movie than they are the book. If you've seen the movie, and how unsympathetic they tend to be, you'll understand the surprise!
An absolute must read.
May 27, 2025
Very challenging read. I think it’s intellectually interesting to consider in the context of its release (a year after the first treaty settlement), and the way it’s very much a part of the literary canon of NZ, and its imo deeply sympathetic portrayal of generational trauma - I think it’s as Essential a classic as a NZ novel gets, and it is actually excellent, it’s just so hard to read and I hated reading it so much I had to knock a star. I don’t know enough to say it paved the way for some of my favourite NZ literature of the last few years, but it’s nice to see how “difficult” NZ stories have progressed in the 35 years since this was released.
March 2, 2014
I've heard of but never seen the film and was curious about the book and after reading I can see why it originally set the country alight. Frank, uncompromising, brutal and primal, it sets a world of disillusionment, violence, abuse and addiction amongst a slum of welfare state Maori. The themes however, translate to any who have lost their 'tribe' and fallen into the cycle of poverty and alcohol and resentment.
Powerful and moving, perhaps the best part is Duff's use of language - rough, vibrant and organic, the voices sound unique and ring true. There's a lot of heartbreak, not least, in hearing one character repeatedly fall short of describing his emotional state purely because he lacks the actual vocabulary and experience to vocalise it. How must it feel to lack the ability to describe the way you feel, to give up and be lost in your own head? The concept of a 'bookless society' also upset me more than I would have expected. It's just so sad.
It flows well, and the set pieces with the rental car/aftermath and later, the Tangi were the most effective for me, inevitable and raw. He makes a stark case for the sadness of losing your culture.
Ultimately, the ending seemed a little sudden and forced; as nice as the idea and themes were, it didn't strike me as true. Or maybe it happened too quickly. Seeking support and love though your Whānau, your culture, your religion or even just your local community is a great message but it didn't sit right.
A good book, great at times and a convincing portrait of the poverty cycle and destructive capabilities of alcohol and addiction.
Powerful and moving, perhaps the best part is Duff's use of language - rough, vibrant and organic, the voices sound unique and ring true. There's a lot of heartbreak, not least, in hearing one character repeatedly fall short of describing his emotional state purely because he lacks the actual vocabulary and experience to vocalise it. How must it feel to lack the ability to describe the way you feel, to give up and be lost in your own head? The concept of a 'bookless society' also upset me more than I would have expected. It's just so sad.
It flows well, and the set pieces with the rental car/aftermath and later, the Tangi were the most effective for me, inevitable and raw. He makes a stark case for the sadness of losing your culture.
Ultimately, the ending seemed a little sudden and forced; as nice as the idea and themes were, it didn't strike me as true. Or maybe it happened too quickly. Seeking support and love though your Whānau, your culture, your religion or even just your local community is a great message but it didn't sit right.
A good book, great at times and a convincing portrait of the poverty cycle and destructive capabilities of alcohol and addiction.
June 22, 2018
I read this book 20 years ago after seeing the movie. It is a brilliant and unflinching look at domestic violence and I suspect if I reread it now (which I plan to do this year) it would be bumped to 5 stars. I rewatched the movie for the first time last night and, even though this is a book site not a movie site, thought I'd add a review. I'm blown away by some of the great movies which have come out of New Zealand, but Once Were Warriors is simply the best movie ever made here in my opinion. It is brutal, horrific, sad and brilliantly acted (the leads put out the best performance of any movie I've ever seen). Having seen the movie 20 years ago I'd wondered whether it would lose some impact on the second viewing, but last night it proved its worth and was the most compelling thing I've watched in many many years. I went to bed thinking about it, woke up thinking about it and simply can't resist telling strangers on the internet to watch the movie and read the book. If you can't do both (and this is not generally my advice) just watch the movie and be blown away.
May 14, 2021
Romanzo tanto bello quanto doloroso, rappresenta un grido di dolore e di libertà della comunità Maori di Pine Block, che ha perso ogni ricordo del suo passato ed è vittima di un presente alienante. Pine Block rappresenta una sorta di ghetto in cui le famiglie di colore vivono in case popolari, incatenate al guinzaglio di un sussidio statale che non le invoglia a trovarsi un impiego. Uomini e donne per lo più alcolizzati e privi di qualsiasi altro interesse che non sia l'incontro al pub o le feste notturne a base di birra. Frotte di bambini lasciati a sé stessi, vittime di violenza e comunque privati di un'infanzia normale e adolescenti che hanno come unico scopo quello di affiliarsi alle bande che gli richiedono obbedienza totale e cieca. Ma una soluzione c'è e la trova la protagonista Beth, madre di sei figli e moglie vittima delle violenze di un marito imbruttito dall'alcol, ed è strettamente legata alla cultura Maori, alla sua lingua, alle sue tradizioni, insomma ad un ritorno a quelle origini in cui i Maori "erano guerrieri".
September 5, 2014
It's taken me a long time to pluck up the courage to read this book and I will never watch the film. It is a strong yet simple story of a very disfunctional family. The characters leap off the page and into the news stories around us, so much so that it could be real and Duff has opened the doorway into another world for me. The prose style of writing takes a bit of getting used to, but so does the word of Two Pines and the Heke family.
I wanted to rage and cry about the choices they made when they didn't realise they were making a choice, about the mindset that makes their life 'normal' and especially for the children. A book that can do that is a good book indeed. I'd recommend this book to Y12/13 students and adults as a glimpse of the harsh side of life. It isn't a Piccault or a Lee Child, Duff's characters are in a far bigger, deeper hole. Other books I will read after this will skim over life.
I wanted to rage and cry about the choices they made when they didn't realise they were making a choice, about the mindset that makes their life 'normal' and especially for the children. A book that can do that is a good book indeed. I'd recommend this book to Y12/13 students and adults as a glimpse of the harsh side of life. It isn't a Piccault or a Lee Child, Duff's characters are in a far bigger, deeper hole. Other books I will read after this will skim over life.
July 13, 2011
Heartrending. Tragic. Inspiring.
A must read for any segment of society hellbent on destroying itself. The frustration, anger and lethargy which grown out the perceived unfairness of the world can be crippling and this book serves as snap shot of one such lost community, eating itself alive because of the lopsided realities of life. I really think this book should be mandatory reading in the public schools back home, where a lot of the same anger, violence and self-destructive tendencies are consuming the disenfranchised young men of my island.
Despite all of the sadness though, this is ultimately a story of hope, and courage, with a great and inspiring message.
A must read for any segment of society hellbent on destroying itself. The frustration, anger and lethargy which grown out the perceived unfairness of the world can be crippling and this book serves as snap shot of one such lost community, eating itself alive because of the lopsided realities of life. I really think this book should be mandatory reading in the public schools back home, where a lot of the same anger, violence and self-destructive tendencies are consuming the disenfranchised young men of my island.
Despite all of the sadness though, this is ultimately a story of hope, and courage, with a great and inspiring message.
Read
October 21, 2013i chose to read this book because it fell under the category of a book written by a new zealander. my favourite quote was when Beth said to jake "Our people once were warriors. But unlike you, Jake, they were people with mana, pride, people with spirit. If my spirit can survive living with you for 18 years, Then I can survive anything cause living with you is like living in hell." something i learned from this book was really about the life some people have to live like in new zealand and how hard it really is.
March 6, 2011
This is a brutal book. No punches are pulled in the descriptions of domestic violence, gang culture, acoholism, sexual abuse and suicide. It is a raw account of the erosion of cultual identity in the Maori community, and the attmepts of individuals to reconnect with their heritage. Duff's writing is excellent and immmediate, so that the violence of the characters lives never feels contrived for effect.
December 31, 2012
A Maori family with five children must deal with urban violence, poverty, drugs, alcoholism, unemployment, gang warfare, rape, physical and mental abuse, suicide, and a host of other horrific family problems, all depicted graphically.
A raw account of violence and how close to the edge a family lives.
A raw account of violence and how close to the edge a family lives.
September 28, 2011
Gripping story, raw and frank.
March 21, 2015
Raw, intense, brutal, kinda like being punched in the guts.... repeatedly. There's nothing pretty here, but that's its power.
September 11, 2017
Such a heart wrenching story of a people so strong and with such history.
March 23, 2022
In Neuseeland kennt jeder den Film "Once were warriors", der auch international einiges an Aufmerksamkeit und sogar mehrere Preise erhielt. Im Film, wie im gleichnamigen Roman von Alan Duff, steht die Familie Heke im Vordergrund, die als Maori Familie unter prekären Umständen lebt.
Der Alltag ist geprägt von Gewalt - auch innerhalb der Familie - Alkohol, Gangs und Arbeitslosigkeit. Jake Heke, der Vater, ist ein Prototyp toxischer Männlichkeit, der leider meinem Eindruck nach von Jugendlichen nach Erscheinen des Films heroisiert und als cooler Typ angesehen wurde. "Cook the man some eggs" ist immer noch ein geflügeltes Wort, das Leute lustig finden anstatt als erschreckendes Beispiel häuslicher Gewalt wahrnehmen (Beth weigert sich, dem Trinkkumpanen des Mannes Eier zu braten und wird dafür verdroschen).
Ich selbst war 3 Jahre mit einem maoristämmigen Kiwi zusammen und hatte engen Kontakt mit der "whanau" - das Maori Wort für Familie, das aber vielmehr die ganze Verwandtschaft umfasst. In diesem Buch habe ich unfassbar viel wiedererkannt, das ich dort kennen gelernt habe. Glücklicherweise hat sich meinem Empfinden und der Aussage meiner damaligen Schwiegerfamilie nach in Neuseeland in den letzten Jahrzehnten einiges getan - die Maori-Kultur wird immer mehr in den Lehrplänen und im öffentlichen Leben integriert und sowohl Maori als auch Pakeha (europäischstämmige Neuseeländer) haben mehr Zugang zur einheimischen Kultur und größeres Bewusstsein der Historie gegenüber. Dennoch ist dieses Buch ein großer Reminder, sich nicht auf halber Strecke zufrieden zu geben und auch für uns - sich seiner Wurzeln bewusst zu sein und sich derer zur bemächtigen.
Ich kann kaum in Worte fassen, was ich für dieses Buch empfinde und kann nicht glauben, dass ich es jetzt erst lese. Alan Duff erfasst mit unglaublich authentischen Stimmen das furchtbar trostlose Umfeld einer sozial benachteiligen Ethnie und Bevölkerungsschicht. Die Kapitel werden aus verschiedenen Sichtweisen erzählt - mal aus Beths oder Jakes Sicht, aber auch die Tochter Grace und der Sohn Nig kommen zu Wort. Der Ton ist sehr mündlich und fließend, was einen direkt in die Figuren springen und deren Gedankenmuster ergründen lässt. Diese Lähmung, dieser Selbstbetrug, diese Verzweiflung, alles wurde von Alan Duff so meisterhaft eingefangen, nur um ganz allmählich einen Hoffnungsschimmer einzuweben, eine Geschichte von weiblichem Empowerment und der Verbindung zu den eigenen Wurzeln. Was bedeutet es Maori zu sein, ein wahrer Krieger wie die Vorfahren einst? Eins ist sicher: In McClutchy's Pub ist die Antwort auf diese Frage nicht zu finden.
Zuerst habe ich mit der deutschen Übersetzung angefangen und muss der Übersetzerin Gabriele Pauer Respekt zollen, eine so regional und slanggefärbte Sprache überhaupt irgendwie lesbar ins Deutsche zu bringen. Für diejenigen, die es sich zutrauen, würde ich aber unbedingt das Original empfehlen. Duff setzt keine Anführungszeichen, die wörtliche Rede ist in einer Art Stream of Consciousness eingewoben, was nicht jedem taugt. Ich fand es jedoch brillant und habe mich gut zurechtgefunden.
Wer sich für Neuseeland, für die Folgen von Kolonialisierung, für Klassismus und Rassismus, und für mitreißende Schicksale interessiert, der sollte unbedingt zu diesem Buch greifen. Sicherlich mein persönliches Jahres- und Lebenslesehighlight!
For us, Jake, punch his fuckin lights out. They. They, The People - (the bereft, the broken of heart and spirit from all them dirty rotten homes with no love inem. Oh, Jake unnerstans, Jakey'd never leave you, People.) So Jake not budging. Not one inch. And the crowd, the grown up leftovers from the wrecked, ruined chidhoods, just one big collective thought of: PUNCHIM, JAKE. PUNCHIM. (S. 78)
Der Alltag ist geprägt von Gewalt - auch innerhalb der Familie - Alkohol, Gangs und Arbeitslosigkeit. Jake Heke, der Vater, ist ein Prototyp toxischer Männlichkeit, der leider meinem Eindruck nach von Jugendlichen nach Erscheinen des Films heroisiert und als cooler Typ angesehen wurde. "Cook the man some eggs" ist immer noch ein geflügeltes Wort, das Leute lustig finden anstatt als erschreckendes Beispiel häuslicher Gewalt wahrnehmen (Beth weigert sich, dem Trinkkumpanen des Mannes Eier zu braten und wird dafür verdroschen).
Ich selbst war 3 Jahre mit einem maoristämmigen Kiwi zusammen und hatte engen Kontakt mit der "whanau" - das Maori Wort für Familie, das aber vielmehr die ganze Verwandtschaft umfasst. In diesem Buch habe ich unfassbar viel wiedererkannt, das ich dort kennen gelernt habe. Glücklicherweise hat sich meinem Empfinden und der Aussage meiner damaligen Schwiegerfamilie nach in Neuseeland in den letzten Jahrzehnten einiges getan - die Maori-Kultur wird immer mehr in den Lehrplänen und im öffentlichen Leben integriert und sowohl Maori als auch Pakeha (europäischstämmige Neuseeländer) haben mehr Zugang zur einheimischen Kultur und größeres Bewusstsein der Historie gegenüber. Dennoch ist dieses Buch ein großer Reminder, sich nicht auf halber Strecke zufrieden zu geben und auch für uns - sich seiner Wurzeln bewusst zu sein und sich derer zur bemächtigen.
Ich kann kaum in Worte fassen, was ich für dieses Buch empfinde und kann nicht glauben, dass ich es jetzt erst lese. Alan Duff erfasst mit unglaublich authentischen Stimmen das furchtbar trostlose Umfeld einer sozial benachteiligen Ethnie und Bevölkerungsschicht. Die Kapitel werden aus verschiedenen Sichtweisen erzählt - mal aus Beths oder Jakes Sicht, aber auch die Tochter Grace und der Sohn Nig kommen zu Wort. Der Ton ist sehr mündlich und fließend, was einen direkt in die Figuren springen und deren Gedankenmuster ergründen lässt. Diese Lähmung, dieser Selbstbetrug, diese Verzweiflung, alles wurde von Alan Duff so meisterhaft eingefangen, nur um ganz allmählich einen Hoffnungsschimmer einzuweben, eine Geschichte von weiblichem Empowerment und der Verbindung zu den eigenen Wurzeln. Was bedeutet es Maori zu sein, ein wahrer Krieger wie die Vorfahren einst? Eins ist sicher: In McClutchy's Pub ist die Antwort auf diese Frage nicht zu finden.
Zuerst habe ich mit der deutschen Übersetzung angefangen und muss der Übersetzerin Gabriele Pauer Respekt zollen, eine so regional und slanggefärbte Sprache überhaupt irgendwie lesbar ins Deutsche zu bringen. Für diejenigen, die es sich zutrauen, würde ich aber unbedingt das Original empfehlen. Duff setzt keine Anführungszeichen, die wörtliche Rede ist in einer Art Stream of Consciousness eingewoben, was nicht jedem taugt. Ich fand es jedoch brillant und habe mich gut zurechtgefunden.
Wer sich für Neuseeland, für die Folgen von Kolonialisierung, für Klassismus und Rassismus, und für mitreißende Schicksale interessiert, der sollte unbedingt zu diesem Buch greifen. Sicherlich mein persönliches Jahres- und Lebenslesehighlight!
For us, Jake, punch his fuckin lights out. They. They, The People - (the bereft, the broken of heart and spirit from all them dirty rotten homes with no love inem. Oh, Jake unnerstans, Jakey'd never leave you, People.) So Jake not budging. Not one inch. And the crowd, the grown up leftovers from the wrecked, ruined chidhoods, just one big collective thought of: PUNCHIM, JAKE. PUNCHIM. (S. 78)
April 17, 2018
Several years ago I saw the film, Once Were Warriors, and it blew me away, it's one of those stories which leave a lasting impression on you. Despite what I thought of the film, for so long I was reluctant to read the book the film is based on for one simple reason, this is not a pleasant story, certainly not something that makes good material for a feel-good movie. However, when I recently came across a copy of the book, even though I knew it wouldn't be an easy read, I decided to get myself a copy.
As one would expect, there are huge differences between the film and the book it's based on, however, the setting and the main characters are the same. The most interesting aspect of the story I found is that even though it's set amongst the Maori community of an inner-city in contemporary New Zealand, how similar the problems are to many other parts of the world. I doubt there are many stories so well-known that describe problems faced by Maoris in the modern world. I suspect for many people, their knowledge of Maori culture is limited to the haka - a traditional war dance - performed by the New Zealand rugby team before a match.
The first thing of note about this book is that it's written in a New Zealand dialect, anyone familiar with UK English shouldn't have too much trouble understanding it, although it can be a little tricky figuring out exactly what is going on at times.
The story is quite simple, Jake "The Muss" Heke lives with his wife, Beth, and their children in state housing along with many other Maori families. Jake enjoys being unemployed, drinking, getting into fights, beating his wife, partying with his friends. Beth has her own struggles with alcohol, a way of putting up with the harsh realities of life. The oldest son wishes to join a local street gang, another son, involved in petty crime, is taken away by the state. The oldest daughter is the one who is often left to look after the younger children due to the neglect of their parents. The problems faced by the Heke family are fairly typical of other Maori families in the area.
The story shows how the Maori community, proud of their warrior heritage, struggle to find a place for themselves in the modern world, this is best summed up by the following lines:
"... it occurred to Beth that her own house — no, not just her own house but every house she’d ever been in — was bookless... Bookless... Bookless... We’re a bookless society."
This isn't an easy book to read, but it is well worth it.
As one would expect, there are huge differences between the film and the book it's based on, however, the setting and the main characters are the same. The most interesting aspect of the story I found is that even though it's set amongst the Maori community of an inner-city in contemporary New Zealand, how similar the problems are to many other parts of the world. I doubt there are many stories so well-known that describe problems faced by Maoris in the modern world. I suspect for many people, their knowledge of Maori culture is limited to the haka - a traditional war dance - performed by the New Zealand rugby team before a match.
The first thing of note about this book is that it's written in a New Zealand dialect, anyone familiar with UK English shouldn't have too much trouble understanding it, although it can be a little tricky figuring out exactly what is going on at times.
The story is quite simple, Jake "The Muss" Heke lives with his wife, Beth, and their children in state housing along with many other Maori families. Jake enjoys being unemployed, drinking, getting into fights, beating his wife, partying with his friends. Beth has her own struggles with alcohol, a way of putting up with the harsh realities of life. The oldest son wishes to join a local street gang, another son, involved in petty crime, is taken away by the state. The oldest daughter is the one who is often left to look after the younger children due to the neglect of their parents. The problems faced by the Heke family are fairly typical of other Maori families in the area.
The story shows how the Maori community, proud of their warrior heritage, struggle to find a place for themselves in the modern world, this is best summed up by the following lines:
"... it occurred to Beth that her own house — no, not just her own house but every house she’d ever been in — was bookless... Bookless... Bookless... We’re a bookless society."
This isn't an easy book to read, but it is well worth it.
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