click on photos to enlarge!
King Kalakaua at a lu`au.
Honolulu ca. 1851
Traditonal Grass Hale (house)1800's
Traditonal Grass Hale (house)1800's
"Men show their characters in nothing more clearly than in what they think laughable." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"If any man wish to write in a clear style, let him be first clear in his thoughts; and if any would write in a noble style, let him first possess a noble soul."
- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
The two categories of books are Fiction and Non-Fiction, not False & Non- False. Facts can me twisted to say any damned thing, but a story must have some deep truth at it's core - or why would anybody read it? Fiction is truer than non-fiction because without that internal truth it's not really a literary work at all; it is only a literary attempt. . . Like too many of us I rarely read fiction anymore. Never mind that some of the great life-changing relationships of my life have been with fictions: Winnie the Pooh, Babar, Franny & Zoey, Orlando . . Well, recently a good friend, a fan of my little novel (yes, 'fiction') bought me a copy of Molokai, a Hawaii novel by Alan Brennert. I tried to be gracious - not like I'd been given an assignment, but I didn't feel hopeful when I saw the words: "National Bestseller" on the cover! How good, how HAWAII TRUE could this book (by a mainlander!) be?! Then I started reading:
Chapter 1
1891
Later when memory was all that she had to sustain her, she would come to cherish it: Old Honolulu as it was then, as it would never be again. To a visitor it must have seemed a lush garden of fanciful hybrids: a Florentine-style palace shaded by banyan and monkeypod trees; wooden storefronts flourishing on dusty streets, cuttings from America's Old West; tall New England church steeples blooming above the palm and coconut groves. to a visitor it must have seemed at once exotic and familiar; to five-year-old Rachel it was a playground, and it was home.
Certain things stood out in memory, she couldn't say why: the weight and feel of a five-cent hapa`umi coin in her pocket; the taste of cold Tahiti lemonade on a hot day; palm fronds rustling like locusts high above, as she and her brothers played among the rice paddies and fishponds of Waikiki. . . But most of all, most clearly of all, she remembered Steamer Day - because that was when her father came home."
. . . I was tentatively hooked; the names of local places and local things-past always cast a magic spell on me. When Rachel bought fresh bread from Fanny Love (we still have Loves bread!) I was all-the-way hooked!
The story begins in 1891 when Rachel is 7 years old. A Hawaiian Kingdom is her home. During her lifetime the Islands become a Republic, a Territory, and finally a U.S. State, the fiftieth star on the flag. She (and we!) experience the end of routine sail travel, the birth of island flight, the passing of a culture. I remain touched and impressed that a man from California could express the soul of Hawaii, and of her people, with this level of sensitivity and skill. There were no glaring mistakes (common in books by 'outsiders') and many rich surprises for me, plus wonderfully realized characters, several of whom continue to haunt my imagination . . . . This is one of those books that you lose yourself in! I just got teary typing the opening lines, remembering the incidents, those characters, the Hawaiiana, the history, the humanity, the HEART that I found in this wonderful novel! I cherish it as a great work of fiction, and as a deep work of truth about how Hawaii became what she is today. Well done, Mr. Brennert! I won't hold your bestseller status against you. Sometimes the crowd is right. Read Molokai, then come back here to Comfort Spiral to share YOUR thoughts; And to thank me! Mahalo, George Cattermole!
A L O H A! Cloudia
