Sia Figiel's powerful, poetic skills weave together the voices of three generations of women from two Samoan families. Their dream worlds and realities intermingle, just as the histories of each generation run through the next. At the center of the novel is the Samoan woman's tattoo, the malu , believed to be brought from Fiji by Siamese twins. The ghosts of the twins watch over the women whose lives are stained by an unfinished tattoo. The shame and grief of not completing the tattoo ceremony go hand in hand with the shame and grief of illicit love and broken promises.
Sia Figiel was born in 1967. Author of novels, plays, and poetry, she has traveled extensively in Europe and the Pacific Islands, and has had residencies at the University of Technology in Sydney, the East-West Center in Hawaii, the Pacific Writing Forum at the University of the South Pacific in Fiji, and Logoipulotu College in Savaii. She is also known as a performance poet and has appeared at several international literary festivals. Her first novel, where we once belonged, won the Commonwealth Writer’s Prize Best First Book for the Southeast Asia/South Pacic region. She lives in Samoa.
reading around the world one book at a time 2024: samoa
They Who Do Not Grieve sure is a book. A tale of three generations of women, belonging to two different families tied by a fateful past, who navigate life in Samoa in the second half of the twentieth century.
These women’s tales are told in a deeply lyrical language, and explore their strife to create and determine their choices within the constrictions of the mysoginy and violence embedded in their lives.
The main fil rouge that ties all these women together is how none of them lives a “traditional” life, following strict rules and expectations; most of them are unmarried and had children out of wedlock, and while this state gives them grief and puts them in a situation where they will be hated and scorned by their communities, their independence is envied by many, and in more than one occasion this independence is strictly tied to the Independence of Samoa.
The novel also touches on the constant denigration of Samoan people (but also Tongans, Fijians, Papua New Guineans, Indians and all the Islanders of Oceania) in New Zealand, in America and in Samoa itself by the white tourists that dream of the perfect life in the Pacific ocean. It’s as heartbreaking to read as the rest of the book.
The lyrical and poetic style is what holds me back from giving the book a higher rating, because despite clearly being a skilled writer, Sia Figiel is not the one for me. She is lauded in her country and abroad as both a poet and a novelist and that becomes very clear in her prose. I found the timelines to be a bit confusing and the voices of the women a bit too similar one to the other, to the point where I was confused about who was speaking sometimes — the fact that all the point of views are in first person didn’t help. With this I don’t mean to say the characters didn’t have their own idiosyncracies, but that in the long run some recurring stylistic choices flattened their voices. Add to that the dream sequences and the metaphors and they symbolic images and you’ll see why I was so discombobulated.
Among all this there’s some really beautiful passages, and a heavy stress on the importance of names and language, which I really appreciated.
It wasn’t my cup of tea, but I would still recommend it to people who love poetry and generational stories rooted in folklore.
At nights I turned into the bird-dog-woman. I ate the face of the girl I was during the day. I tore at her eyes. I tore at her flesh. I sucked the blood from her liver. Her heart. Her bones. Crunching them between my teeth. Licking the marrow that flowed between my lips. Raging across the sky like that. With fire in my mouth.
I became my own goddess.
3.5 stars
They Who Do Not Grieve tells the story of three generations of Samoan women. In part one, the women are descended from Lalolagi, sharp tongued and mean grandmother to Malu. Part two follows Tausi and her granddaughter, Alofa. In part three, we learn more about how their stories are interwoven.
The women's stories encompass themes of grief and shame and betrayal. I did like how . Another major theme was the contrast between the Islanders' traditional values and way of life, compared to the modernising influence represented by Americans and New Zealanders in this tale.
They Who Do Not Grieve is told in rhythmic, almost poetic prose, which lends it the feel, at times, of a mythical fable (for an example, see the quoted text above). There was no differentiation between the real and the symbolic, which occasionally made me feel rather discombobulated!
Set in Samoa, this is the story of two best friends, a tattoo, a betrayal and the reverberations that echoed down the generations. There was adultery and domestic violence, shame, grief and judgement. It was also a reminder of the emotional cost of secrecy. 🇼🇸This was not an easy read. Partly it was the structure which means you initially get lots of seemingly interconnected pieces which take some time to come together. Partly is was the style - definitely literary fiction. And partly is was the aspects of spiritualism and mysticism which feature in parts of the plot. That’s something I typically struggle with. 🇼🇸However, I’m glad I read this. Since we are part of the Pacific it is embarrassing how few books by Pacific authors I’ve read, and how hard they are to find. I learnt snippets of the history and culture of Samoa, and especially insights into the relationships between Samoans and Palagi.
This one was tough. It was tough to get through, and also tough to connect with. The writing often felt inaccessible to me, as someone unfamiliar with Samoan culture and symbolism, but that would have been fine I think, it if weren’t for the subject matter. This book is drenched in sadness, every character suffers in every single chapter, with no lighter moments. Although there was often beautiful and inventive turns of phase, overall it just wasn’t for me.
Szamoa. Két családnak és két családi átoknak a története követhető végig ebben a regényben, amelyeknek (mármint az átkoknak) a közös eredete mélyen el van ásva a nagyszülők elméjének mélyére. Az utódok csak töredékeket ismerhetnek belőle, a teljes kép talán csak az olvasó számára bontakozik ki. Amennyiben elég szemfüles, mert a két gondosan felrajzolt családfa ellenére, meglehetős nehéz követni, ki kinek a kicsodája. (Azért nem lehetetlen.) Pedig olyan faék-egyszerű kis képlet, nincs benne más, csak barátság meg árulás, aztán mégis azt nyögi a dédunoka is.
An interesting cultural read that had me lose focus at times due to poetic and hectic writing style. Something catchy about it that made me want to finish it but seemed more like a literary university text than a text for pleasure. My best friend adored it!
Citaat : Het kind in haar schoot leeft. Net zoals de vrouwen voor haar zal het geen vader kennen. Net zoals de vrouwen voor haar zal ze opgroeien zonder te weten dat ze met passie is verwekt, ook al was het in een andere taal... de man van een andere vrouw. Review : Een roman vol woede, verdriet en frustratie over wat de vrouwen in West-Samoa te lijden hebben en dat is voor een groot deel te wijten aan de mythe die de westerse wereld rond dit eiland weeft. Het zou namelijk een paradijs zijn waar beeldmooie mensen de hele dag de liefde met mekaar bedrijven. Gezien het hoge jaarlijkse migratiecijfer van de inwoners blijkt dat toch niet te kloppen. Als je het boek van Sia Figel gelezen hebt krijg je daar een heel andere kijk op.
De hoofdpersonages, meestal vrouwen, groeien bijna allemaal op zonder vader. Het matriarchaat dat er soms te vinden is, werkt niet bevrijdend voor vrouwen. Integendeel, want het betreft hier altijd opvoedende vrouwen die het product zijn van een patriarchaat die hun frustraties op jonge meisjes afreageren. Maloe is de vertelster in het verhaal. Zij heeft haar vader nooit gekend en aan haar moeder heeft ze slechts vage herinneringen. De naam moeder vernoemen is taboe want dan wordt de grootmoeder bij wie Maloe opgroeit woest. Maloe heeft een heel moeilijk leven. Maar alle moeilijkheden ten spijt blijft ze dromen. Daardoor blijft ze sterk, net als al de andere vrouwen op het eiland sterke vrouwen zijn. Een moeilijk toegankelijke maar wel mooie roman.
Lessons learned: -love and life and death and grief are constant. -grief=the child of beauty and sorrow -acknowledging grief allows for healing and breaking of generational curses and shame. -not everyone has the privilege of grieving -fa’asamoa is vibrant and complex -I am honored to read a Samoan novel while in this country -our names tell our stories. -connection to land is everything. Context is everything. -Living separate from the land/social systems/environments that we are native to can strain.
Goddamn what an astonishing book of interwoven stories about love and grief and shame and pride.
"Une rivière rouge sacrée coulait à cet endroit chaque fois que la lune était pleine"
Secrets de famille sur plusieurs générations, comme si c’était dans les gènes. Pour dire les vies de ces femmes, de toutes ces femmes, à quel point elles sont liées.
Au début, on est mêlés dans toutes ces histoires sur plusieurs paliers de génération. Ensuite, peu à peu, les morceaux se collent.
« Quant ma mère me disait que j’était méchante et mauvaise, c’est d’elle qu’elle parlait. Elle parlait de la fille qu’elle-même avait été »
This was required reading for a course I was taking and I read a certain set of extracts and flicked through other parts as it was not to my taste. I felt the style was contrived, and that my emotional reactions to the story were being manipulated by the style, and I didn't like that or the story.
Excelente, muito bom mesmo. Não dei 5 estrelas porque algumas partes eu me perdi na narrativa e achei enrolada, mas acho que o objetivo era esse aí mesmo. Não é sobre entender tudo, mas sobre sentir algumas delas.
I really enjoyed Sia Fiegiel's Where We Once Belonged, this book seemed somewhat lackluster in comparison. Maybe because the character Malu seems a lot less interesting than Alofa from Where We Once Belonged. They Who Do Not Grieve is also a much more linear book, which does not seem to benefit Figiel's style very much.
Growing up as a Samoan tama'ita'i myself, I can understand the taboo and customs in this book. I've read many books but not as deep, raw, and honest as this beautifully written novel. Her poetic writing can be an indecipherable puzzle to read between at times, but the poetic side of this story is also what enhances it's greatness. Wonderfully written book. I recommend it 100%.
Complex and sometimes confusing tale set in Samoa using the voices of 2 women and their descendents. Well written narrative in which the local mythology is woven throughout. Worth a read.