Polly and Wiki and all the other kuia ride on the roof of Kerry’s Toyota Corona with its navy blistered bonnet . . . They do this for all the moko; they are everywhere and roam inside us as they keep weaving the net and it’s no small thing that only a few slip through.
Time and whakapapa slowly unravel as Talia Marshall weaves her way across Aotearoa in a roster of decaying European cars. Along the way she will meet her father, pick up a ghost, transform into a wharenui, and make cocktail hour with Ans Westra.
Men will come – Roman, Ben, Isaac – and some go. Others linger. And it is these men – her father, Paul, and grandfathers Mugwi Macdonald and Jim; her tīpuna Nicola Sciascia, tohunga Kipa Hemi Whiro, Kupe himself – who she observes as she moves backwards into the future. With her ancestor Tūtepourangi she relives Te Rauparaha’s bloody legacy, and attempts and fails to write her great historical novel.
But it is her wāhine, past and present, who carry her, even as the ground behind her smoulders.
Tempestuous and haunting, Whaea Blue is a tribute to collective memory, the elasticity of self, and the women we travel through. It is a karanga to and from the abyss. It is a journey to peace.
I’m not a huge fan of memoirs and after reading Noelle McCarthy and Kate Camps memoirs back to back in 2022 (and liking neither) it is a wonder to me that I chose Whaea Blue by Talia Marshall as my Book Group choice. Driving one day I heard a review about it on the National Radio Station and her journey sounded intriguing. I’m a sucker for a book set in Aotearoa and after Aue by Becky Manawatu became my favourite read of 2020, I thought it was time to support another strong NZ female writer. Well, I found the book to be a confused mess…. therefore, either a very genius account of the authors personal history and reflections OR a book that has been written completely for the writer and not with the reader in mind (which I guess in many cases memoirs are). The chapters were haphazard, so it was very hard to keep tabs on who was who and their relationship to Talia and some would disappear for ever and others pop up again in randomly placed chapters in the book. Early on there is an account of Talia taking way too many magic mushrooms and the residual effect that these had on her. I don’t know if her continued use of drugs and alcohol played a part in the state of her mental health, paranoia and the darkness and ghosts she seemed to feel and see in many places, or whether this was part of her journey in finding her identity and the ways in which our past shapes our present. It was interesting reading snippets of broader Māori history, but this was so randomly dropped in and out of the book, it became frustrating more than informative. I found myself putting this book down more than I wanted to pick it up. What kept me reading to the end was that it was my book group choice but also, Talia Marshall can truly write. She has the ability to paint vivid pictures with her evocative, brave and intimate prose. This book felt “deconstructed” – you know like the foodie term that was popular a number of years back… take a perfect pavlova, smash it up so that the meringue, cream and fruit are all over the place. Still tastes the same right? Unless you are someone who enjoys eating with their eyes also. The timing of reading this was interesting in that it coincided with the Hīkoi mō te Tiriti taking place in Aoteroa (of which I support).
A wild jaunty ride that goes all over the place in the author's life. Talia Marshall zig-zags back and forth from childhood, to her deep inhaling of her ancestors, their histories and whenua (mainly but not only on her taha Māori), to the men in her life, friends, cousins, motherhood, and always her writing. She's bold and fearless in uncovering the spooky and haunted, slavery and cannibalism, the rough edges of life and her own mental health. I love her inventive use of language - no cliches here. There were photos interspersed throughout, which was neat, but frustratingly no captions, or so I thought until I'd finished the book and found a list of them at the end. Placing captions with the photos would have made for a better reader experience.
Difficult to describe - but here goes. Whaea Blue is part-memoir and part history/whakapapa. It is hauntingly beautiful, heartfelt, honest, elusive and at times very funny. Marshall highlights aspects of her life with startling self-awareness covering topics such as pain, loss, violence, death and war. A real wild ride.
72 yo Pakeha South Island male who for reasons probably obvious to Talia did struggle a bit with the Te Reo. However found her life a roller coaster journey, that for reasons I can't explain wished I had traveled with her. This book was extremely hard to put down and I will find it difficult to get out of my head.
Each anecdote and story chapter is interesting in its own right but the book feels disjointed. There is no central theme or line if thought that enchants the reader besides the repeated references to Ben and doing drugs. It’s a good read but misses the mark of being cohesive enough for me to have given it more than 3 stars.