Recovering Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) relationality and belonging in the land, memory, and body of Native Hawai’i
Hawaiian “aloha ʻāina” is often described in Western political terms—nationalism, nationhood, even patriotism. In Remembering Our Intimacies , Jamaica Heolimeleikalani Osorio centers in on the personal and embodied articulations of aloha ʻāina to detangle it from the effects of colonialism and occupation. Working at the intersections of Hawaiian knowledge, Indigenous queer theory, and Indigenous feminisms, Remembering Our Intimacies seeks to recuperate Native Hawaiian concepts and ethics around relationality, desire, and belonging firmly grounded in the land, memory, and the body of Native Hawai’i. Remembering Our Intimacies argues for the methodology of (re)membering Indigenous forms of intimacies. It does so through the metaphor of a ‘ upena —a net of intimacies that incorporates the variety of relationships that exist for Kānaka Maoli. It uses a close reading of the moʻolelo (history and literature) of Hiʻiakaikapoliopele to provide context and interpretation of Hawaiian intimacy and desire by describing its significance in Kānaka Maoli epistemology and why this matters profoundly for Hawaiian (and other Indigenous) futures. Offering a new approach to understanding one of Native Hawaiians’ most significant values, Remembering Our Intimacies reveals the relationships between the policing of Indigenous bodies, intimacies, and desires; the disembodiment of Indigenous modes of governance; and the ongoing and ensuing displacement of Indigenous people.
Important book that really (re)opened my eyes to the wisdom of Hawaiian epistemology. Osorio has a gift for blending and weaving mo'olelo into a lens through which to see contemporary issues. I appreciated the analysis of overused and improperly translated terms/images like kama'aina, aloha 'aina, kuleana, pilina, and the splintered paddle. This is a beautiful and important book, surely an addition to the classics of native Hawaiian canon. As a non-native “kama’aina” it (re)minded me of my responsibility to the native people and the land of Hawai’i Nei.
As this was my introduction to the deep history and culture of Native Hawaiians, Dr. Osorio's commitment to "rigorous paraphrase" was rough. Regardless, I am grateful for the gift of knowing that all alternative to the utility-oriented view of land and place exists.
The book does a lot -- part academic theory, part myth, part history, part manifesto. Osorio demonstrates her skill as a poet in weaving together everything, modeling precisely the possibility and power of mo'olelo. I come away from it newly committed to interrogating the way I think about place, relationship, and responsibility.
"Instead of being frozen in time and ink, moʻolelo move and shape-shift. Like our akua, moʻolelo have many kino [bodies, forms]. Within the context of occupation, when often only one truth, one version of history and justice can be allowed to survive, moʻolelo offers many truths and many versions, refusing to be reduced to a single authoritative fact or mana... By being many bodied, as a genre, moʻolelo are inherently counter-hegemonic, regardless of content, and consequently uniquely positioned to challenge white historiography and its occupying grip on Hawaiʻi." (15)
Osorio offers us a moʻolelo (history, narrative, account) that weaves as hoʻomanawanui expertly did in her Voices of Fire "the literary lei of Pele and Hiʻiaka". In that book, hoʻomanawanui wrote "The discussions of Pele and Hiʻiaka moʻolelo throughout this book are individual pua—blossoms carefully selected and woven into lei, small samples of the enormous body of moʻolelo that illustrate the larger wealth of cultural knowledge contained within it. Collectively, these examples highlight some of the values, as represented by practice, skills, and themes specific to Kanaka ʻŌiwi culture, and not just in the traditional tome period in which they are set" (hoʻomanawanui, 218). The same holds true for Osorio's book, which focuses in on pilina (intimacy, relationships, connection), ea, and aloha ʻāina. Her exploration of the rich concepts, practices, and philosophy of Hawaiian culture, history and moʻolelo offer lessons for those of us living in Hawaiʻi and abroad. Hawaiian culture, political thought, and history as expressed in the moʻolelo of Pele and Hiʻiaka and the Hawaiian language itself offer much for those looking for alternative understandings of history and relations instead of Western (cishetero-)patriarchy and the other systems of oppression we understand ourselves as living and dying under, like racial capitalism, imperialism and settler-colonial 'States'.
The analysis of aikāne and other expressions of pilina and intimate Hawaiian relationships show a different model of relationships and relationality than the identitarian LGB model of sexuality and homosexuality that's developed in the West. Instead of the focus being on identity or orientation towards the sex/gender one is attracted to, what is noted instead is one's relations (e.g. having an aikāne (same-sex/gender lover) instead of being 'gay'; you can have a boyfriend and be neither gay, bi, or any other thing). This Hawaiian expression of pilina, as Osorio states, is not queer [there is no queer without the norm(al)], but a natural expression of pilina (intimacy) that was common in Hawaiʻi (with expressions of such understanding of relations and sexuality present elsewhere) before the monumental changes by the Christian value-system and the political economic decisions that turned Hawaiʻi into a relatively patriarchal and capitalist society. In this way, Osorio follows her father's Dismembering Lāhui, which focused on how, while not colonized during the 70 years between the arrival of the American Calvinist missionaries and the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom by their descendants and other haole buisinessmen and politicians, Hawaiʻi was "dismembered" in a multi-valent way. The people (the makaʻāinana, country folk) were disenfranchised, their relations to land changed with the invention of Hawaiian private property (different from Western private property), and they were subject to the Christian and (cishetero-)patriarchal laws the aliʻi and mōʻī adopted, by choice and against their wills. So while Jonathan Osorio focused on the dismembering of the lāhui (nation, Hawaiian people), Jamaica Osorio focuses on what was dismembered, what relations and traditions were dismembered and how to "(re)member" (remember and repair) them.
One thing I critiqued about this book upon first reading is that some of the analysis was hindered by the book's scope and length.
These moʻolelo about Pele and Hiʻiaka published from 1860-1928 are very pluralistic, multifaceted and a deep well of knowledge, which Osorio focuses on, noting that one can't simply consult moʻolelo or Hawaiian newspapers and the huge Hawaiian language archive. Osorio tells us one has to "luʻu" (dive, immerse). "[S]uch Kanaka Maoli scholars as Noelani Arista and Noenoe Silva have shown through their theorizing and their research that 'consultation' of Hawaiian-language resources is not merely adequate... Neither Arista nor Silva is 'consulting' or dipping into Hawaiian-language resources. They are diving deep. Here I attempt to follow their lead, assuring readers that in this book and beyond, I intend to submerge myself repeatedly in this shared, expansive archive, as I progress in my research of the moʻolelo of Hiʻiaka" (31). However, given the fact that the book's singular focus is on this multitudinous moʻolelo, one would think that Osorio would go into more detail than she does in the about 100 pages (61-174/end) which follow the 60 page introduction and methodology sections.
In her introduction she states "Rather than focus on defining, these wāhine [scholars] work toward articulating aloha ʻāina through example—an approach I am following and taking forward here" (11). She lays out that she is not looking to work towards defining certain concepts, but to articulate them. She does this well with all her topics, like ea, aloha ʻāina, and pilina, but had the work been longer there would've been more depth to the examples and a longer exploration would've helped the reader's understanding of the subjects more.
Upon a second and third reading, I recognized that given the length and multitudes in the moʻolelo Osorio considers, there's much more to be learned from them and analyzed than four or twenty books and studies can teach, whatever their size. Considering her methodology and other considerations she writes about throughout the book, per the author never intended to be definitive or exhaustive, it could be viewed as an introduction, a showing of what was and still is present, one built from a grounded perspective in the moʻolelo of Pele and Hiʻiaka and the authors familial and scholarly moʻokūʻauhau. Osorio's book contains much analysis that hasn't been presented in depth before that can help people understand moʻolelo Hawaiʻi, but also offers new perspectives to settler colonial and indigenous studies. Chapter five in particular on the ideas of kuleana, pilina, kamaʻāina and malihini offer a very different perspective on what it would mean for people to live together on native land that could better describe out responsibilities and relationships to each other, the ʻāina (land), and the native and other people that live and are related to it in various ways.
All said, Osorio's book is thought-provoking and much-needed in the current moment. It reads best, in my opinion, after having read Jonathan Osorio's Dismembering Lāhui, a version or versions of Pele and Hiʻiaka moʻolelo, like Hiʻiakaikapoliopele, and hoʻomanawanui's Voices of Fire. Another book that would be good to read before it would be J. Kauanui's Paradoxes of Hawaiian Sovereignty. A book that looks at some similar issues of aloha ʻāina, ea, and other topics with the ʻike (knowledge) of moʻolelo is Kandace Fujikane's Mapping abundance for a planetary future, which I highly recommend.
Read this for a book club with a colleague who does mental health consulting work in Hawai'i, and is feeling increasingly conflicted about her presence there - what exactly can a colonial modality of healing practiced in an illegally occupied place do for greater wellness? Anyway, I'm very grateful to have read this. I read slowly, because Osorio approaches the sticky (to put it mildly) issue of translation with "rigorous paraphrase" (I really appreciated her explication of this approach), but I enjoyed the frequent stops to look up Hawaiian words she leaves untranslated to see both how I could understand them in part through Osorio's context, and also feel hints of the ways that I might not be grasping the meaning and resonance they have when they are fully embedded in the language and worldview of their creation. My 4-star rating is related to my fit as a reader of this work, not its quality or power: Osorio notes that readers unfamiliar with more than the basics of Hawaiian history and culture may be best served getting more introductory context elsewhere, which I'm sure is true, and it is a little challenging to read books that include chapters that were dissertations, because dissertations are challenging to read! But back to the book: it's hard to summarize what Osorio has accomplished, except to say that I experienced it as an 'upena of poetry, legend, Indigenous activism, and queer theory that speaks movingly to Native Hawaiians' love of and reciprocal obligation to the land and each other, and what understanding intimacy in this context might mean for Hawai'i's future and decolonial movements in other areas of the world, as well.
Side note: Osorio is, as a poet, also a very powerful speaker, and there are several great All My Relations episodes in which she and other nonviolent activists share their resistance work related to safeguarding Mauna Kea that I highly recommend.
The main nuance of this text lies in the extension of aloha ‘āina from a political ideology evoking ea and the understanding of aloha ‘āina in terms of Kanaka Maoli’s genealogical connection to land to an understanding based in pilina and relatedness. This shift in the framing of aloha ‘āina in terms of an ‘upena to people and place was helpful in understanding aloha ‘āina as a relative force, where the land, as the kumu to our pilina, is the kumu of all relationships.
I appreciated how the author based her work in the mo’olelo, following the tradition set forth by our kupuna and other scholars, rooting these interpretations in our mo’olelo. Her extensive analysis of the invoked mo’olelo was impressive, and developed her understanding of aloha ‘āina as pilina within our mo’olelo effectively, before expanding her interpretations to convey broader Kanaka ontologies.
Overall, a very compelling read that I think offers nuanced insights on what aloha ‘āina has meant for our kupuna, and what it can mean for us.
Very thought-provoking. I really appreciated Osorio's reimagining of governance and authority, though a few more on-the-ground details of how these things are being negotiated at Pu'uhuluhulu would've been nice. Also Osorio's critical paraphrase practice & interweaving of Hawaiian terms into the English struck a really great balance of boundary and invitation for non-Kanaka Maoli readers like myself.