Modern Connections to a Timeless Past

Review Essay on Witi Ihimaera’s the Whale Rider (Reed Publishing, 2002)

I had seen the acclaimed 2002 New Zealand movie where a young Keisha Castle-Hughes gained stardom with her portrayal of protagonist Pai (Kahu in the book). With film adaptions, often the author’s nuances are absent so I relished the opportunity to immerse in Witi Ihimaera’s fiction, first published in 1987.

The land and creatures await man’s arrival. Paikea comes upon a great whale, planting an eternal life-force spear for the iwi where a female child’s afterbirth will one day to be buried. A carved Paikea and whale sit atop the meeting house, watching over the iwi endeavouring to reconnect with their past. But disharmony arises. Porourangi has a baby daughter jeopardising the traditions of a male heir. While Chief Koro shuns his granddaughter and seeks a male successor, Kahu is nurtured by her Uncle Rawiri, and Nanny Flowers. They bury Kahu’s afterbirth on the marae and soon discover her affinity with the ocean creatures. Meanwhile, the ancient great whale leads his herd on encounters around the Pacific, but invariably he must return to the iwi’s shores where he beaches. Koro knows the iwi’s survival hinges on saving their ancestor but despite the efforts of Koro’s prodigies, the whale is dying. Kahu swims forth and saves the whale, who mistakes her for his ancient master Paikea. He rides off with Kahu where earnest discussions take place amongst the herd to decide Kahu’s fate.

Very soon, Ihimaera has me retracing last year’s road trip winding around the bush-clad hills of East Cape punctuated by glimpses of turquoise and rustic settlements such as Whangara. The story’s setting feels very last century being so isolated from the urban scourge. Further on is Waituhi, Ihimaera’s tūrangawaewae, where he lived with his grandma and experienced the Pākehā education system at age five. He discusses his first days of school with Diana Dekker (2013):

‘What did the Pakeha teach you today?’ And I said, ‘Jack and Jill.’ And she said, ‘Why is Jack wearing a crown and why are they going up the hill?’ “The next day it was Little Miss Muffet and his grandmother had a host of questions, including: ‘What kind of girl would be frightened of a spider, and why didn’t she just say kia ora?’

This whitewashed schooling helped motivate Ihimaera to become an early Māori writing pioneer, telling the stories of the Māori, which is the overarching essence of Whale Rider. The suppression of Māoridom by Pākehā also provided fuel for his work as in ‘The Matriarch’ (1986), where Māori fight for their land and people against Pākehā brutality (Free-Range Bookclub 2022). Elements of past injustices do creep into Whale Rider’s narrative, such as references to Land Settlements, Bastion Point, and Waitangi Protests. But Whale Rider moves on from the Pākehā wrongdoings to focus on the Māori world, yet keeps a similar structure to The Matriarch blending Māori history, legend, and fiction.

Whale Rider explores connections between the human iwi, their ancestors and the non-human world. Chief Koro educates male iwi members concerned by the erosion of the ‘old ways’, identity and language. Māori author Paora Tapsell speaks of his iwi’s preservation measures:

‘Te Arawa’s genealogies, rituals and korero have been secured in “whakapapa books” of our elders, and used to educate a select few of each new generation…Released through oratory upon the marae, such whakapapa, ritual and korero tie the people, land and ancestors into a common identity.’

Ihimaera vividly illustrates how Māori are empowered and guided by their gods, ancestors, sky, whenua (land), awa (rivers), forests, and non-human inhabitants of these, especially that of Tangaroa (ocean god). The interrelationships between all are the essence of their whakapapa (genealogy), cultivating a beauty largely absent in the Pākehā world. Indigenous rights advocate Tina Ngata describes this importance of whakapapa:

‘Our World, Te Ao Māori, is a whakapapa – one vast genealogical chart that connects us as siblings, mutually dependent upon all that surrounds us in this time, and across time,” Traditionally, these genealogical relationships have aided our movements through this world…a relationship based upon connectedness and reciprocity between us and our non-human ancestors.’

As Whangara’s iwi come to life in English and Te Reo, I am reminded about the orchestrated declines of indigenous cultures and languages. For Māori this would be akin to severing one’s whakapapa, identity, and place amidst the wider environment.

Fortunately, Ihimaera builds reconnection themes with a moving piece of eco-fiction. It often puts the non-human world centric, allowing it to act and speak predominantly through the whales, with the iwi responding “Kahutia Te Rangi brought with him the mauri, live-giving forces which would enable us to live in close communion with the world. This included ‘how man might korero with the beasts and creatures of the sea so that all could live in helpful partnership. They taught oneness” (33). The reader is privileged to drift alongside the whales as they transverse time (pre-iwi to present) “Within the fluted ice chambers the herd of whales moved with infinite grace in holy procession. As they did so they offered their own choral harmony to the natural orchestration” (95). The main non-human character, the ancient great whale, takes on mythical proportions with his appearance “A dark shape rising, rising again, A taniwha, gigantic…For the sacred sign was on the monster, a swirling moko imprinted on the forehead” (12). And has humanlike traits “Reminiscing like this the ancient bull whale began to cry his grief in sound ribbons of overwhelming sorrow” (31), building a character whom Māori have the connectedness with as Ngata describes. Ihimaera creates intimacy sharing close-up encounters like when the female whale elder convinces her leader (and lover) he has erred “‘E taku tane,’ she breathed with slyness, threading her words with sensuous major arpeggios, ‘e hara tera tekoteko ko Paikea’” (136). The whale personifications continue “She gave her head two shakes” (137).

Above water, Ihimaera crafts the lifelike characters of Kahu, Koro and Nanny Flowers, frequently too with voice. Kahu binds the story with her sweet disposition “She put her arms around her grandfather and said again, “It’s alright, Paka. Everything will be alright” (110), and even shoulders the blame in adversity, “It’s not Paka’s fault, Nanny, “she said, “that I’m a girl” (87). Kahu too takes on mystical proportions being at one with the ocean animals “Karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai.” She raised her head and began to call to the whale” (123). Nanny Flowers adopts the matriarch persona delighting with her ruffling banter directed at Koro “The old Paka. Thinks he knows all about being a chief (…) He isn’t any chief. I’m his chief” (21) and “You can have him, moko, as soon as I get my divorce tomorrow” (5). Koro, who in turn regularly inhabits the ‘dogbox’, takes on the gruff chieftain personality “Haere atu koe,” he said. “Haere atu. You are of no use to me” (82) as he unleashes at Kahu. Yet he also possesses a reflective and concerning manner for his people “If we are able to return it to the see that will be proof oneness is still with us. If we are not able to return it, then this is because we have become weak. If it lives, we live. If it dies, we die” (116) and has a deep conscience about upholding iwi traditions, ‘His words were steeped with sadness and regret. “But we have not always kept our pact with Tangaroa” (51). Rawiri, a narrator (the other omniscient), isn’t made to stand out but is more the neutral iwi observer, and Porourangi takes a backseat to let his daughter Kahu shine.

The pages are literally painted with colour by Ihimaera to build characters, scenes, backdrops and atmosphere for the unfolding action. With Kahu, it is repeated use of white, evoking mythical, regal and pure images “Dangling on the wise of the whale, like a small white ribbon” (125). The ocean is full of life from ever changing hues as events occur “Brilliant green, blending into dark blue then a rich purple” (110) and “The sea was ever-changing pounamu, shimmering and seamless to the sky” (10). Further animation of the ocean is achieved by word repetition: hissed, thundered, shimmered, stirred, roared, surged “The sea hissed and fell, surged and soughed upon the sand” (105). Additionally, personification makes the sea humanlike, mirroring how Māori view their moana “The sea seemed to be trembling with anticipation” (92), reinforced further by its speech “There, there, moko. There, there” (55). Gold features for the ancient master Paikea reflecting rare exquisiteness, worthy for both a revered ancestor and their moana “He had been succoured by the golden human” (16), “The whale herd hovered in the goldened sea like regal airships” (58). Ihimaera doesn’t stop with the precious metals, with notable use of silver evoking a slick mystique “The moko, was agleam like liquid silver” (147), “The dolphins were like silver dreams as they disappeared” (91). As you can see already, Ihimaera loves metaphor and simile, giving his work a rich poetic flavour and this doesn’t let up “The sea had looked like crinkled silver foil smooth right out to the edge of the sky” (47).

Ihimaera’s fictional world often seems so real with his actual locations, authentic characters and integration of Māori culture, history and legend, or resemblance thereto. An example is the stranding of 200 whales on Wainui beach, where people come with a chainsaw to butcher the whales for their jaws. Rawiri arrives seeing “The breakers were already red with blood” (101) as he confronts the culprits “Hey, man…That whale belongs to Tangaroa” (102) and subsequently scuffles break out. The whales all die and diggers are bought in to bury the carcasses. Now, fifteen years before Ihimaera penned Whale Rider, the following event occurred at this exact location (Souter 2015):

On 18 March 1970 nearly 60 sperm whales stranded along Wainui Beach…Observers recalled that the sea was red with blood. Controversy broke out when some sightseers tried to take body parts as souvenirs, in one instance with a chainsaw. None of the whales survived; a grave 150 metres long, 10 metres wide and 5 metres deep was excavated to bury them.

This scene would likely be a recalled memory of Ihimaera. Both versions show a clash of belief systems and expose the hierarchical superiority by humans over non-human animals. But here Ihimaera takes the opportunity to highlight this, demonstrating the connection and value of non-human animals to Māori. Living above land, many generations have taken the ocean depths for granted; polluting and pillaging what is a home for billions of inhabitants. New Zealand Geographic cofounder Kennedy Warne alludes to this ignorance:

“It reminds me that conversations in the ocean are happening all the time, but humans rarely tune into them.”

Rawiri in Papua New Guinea (PNG) shows he does have this rare ability to tune in “I place the shell back to my ear. Hoki mai, hoki mai ki te wa kainga, the sea whispered” (73). But I do question the story’s diversions to PNG, and earlier Australia where Rawiri meets his cousins. Perhaps the Sydney excursion highlights iwi’s disconnection from their ocean roots as Warne also raises:

“Oceanian people might be losing their relationship of reciprocal belonging to the sea, becoming desensitised by western anthropocentric ways.”

The PNG experience does spotlight racism. But why did Ihimaera choose to locate this remotely offshore? Did he want distance from Pākehā-Māori history, but still make the point? Yet, Whale Rider is not about racism. Therefore, this passage must be about confirming one’s identity and roots.

Ihimaera blows up another very poignant message at Moruroa, set amongst the migrating whale herd “Suddenly a flash of bright light had scolded the sea and giant tidal soundwaves had exerted so much pressure that internal ear canals had bled. Seven young calves had died…Sparkling like a galaxy was a net of radioactive death… the ancient whale could only despair that the place of life, and the Gods, had become a place of death” (58-60). Such intensely reminds us of man’s blindness to the natural world, through this destruction not just to non-human creatures, but additionally to their habitats.

But there is another thread dominant throughout Whale Rider’s narrative which equals the messages of reconnection. This is the subject of gender imbalance faced by women, in this case Māori women. Ihimaera, a father of two daughters, creates a character Kahu who has to overcome extreme gender prejudice from the older generation Koro. ‘“A girl,” Koro Apirana said, disgusted. “I will have nothing to do with her”’ (18). The story swirls and surges with this issue until its conclusion, where Kahu is the vital link to save the iwi, restore relationships with the past and oneness with the non-human world. This is only can happen when Koro accepts that traditions must change, signifying old ways do need modernising to progress.

‘Tirohia nga tohu o mua ki te whakatere I te wa kei heke mai

Look to the past to navigate the unknown/future’

(Paora Tapsell)

Works Cited

Dekker, Diana. “Witi Ihimaera’s Charmed Life.” Stuff, 10 Jun. 2013,

https://www.stuff.co.nz/entertainment/8763358/Witi-Ihimaeras-charmed-life. Accessed 17 August, 2022.

Ihimaera, Witi. The Whale Rider. 1987. Reed Books, 2003.

Ngata, Tina. “Wai Māori: A Māori Perspective on the Freshwater Debate.”

The Spinoff, 6 Nov. 2018, https://thespinoff.co.nz/atea/06-11-2018/wai-maori-a-maori-perspective-on-the-freshwater-debate. Accessed 18 August 2022.

Soutar, Monty. “East Coast region – Climate, flora and fauna”. Te Ara –

the Encyclopedia of New Zealand, 1 Mar. 2015, http://www.TeAra.govt.nz/en/photograph/33281/whale-stranding-at-wainui-beach. Accessed 25 August 2022.

Tapsell, Paora. “Whakapapa: Stories through Time and Space.”