Reviews

The Uncle's Story by Witi Ihimaera

nicolaanaru's review

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5.0

 
It is Pride month. Today is the fourth anniversary of the Pulse nightclub massacre that saw 49 people - primarily queer people of colour - brutally murdered. Today, the American government announced the rollback of basic rights for transgender people. It is a grim day.

In another coincidence of timing, the book I have been reading over the last few days is The Uncle’s Story, by Witi Ihimaera. By now, I am becoming familiar enough with Ihimaera’s works that I can name several of his favoured themes or conventions: This is a book about whānau expectations; this is a book about the changing roles of Māori and Māori society; there is an opera scene and quotes from an opera throughout the book; the characters travel overseas; the narrative works around someone else’s diary; and there is a cartoonish villain. This is also a takatāpui (queer) love story. Some would say that in this moment, this is the book that I needed to read.

Michael is a young gay Māori man living in Wellington whose parents live in Gisbourne and run the family business, Mahana Wines. In advance of his twin sister Amiria’s wedding, Michael returns to his family home and awkwardly comes out at the rehearsal dinner, only to be met with immediate hostility, and eventually ostracized from the family. Michael returns to Wellington only to find his boyfriend Jason has abruptly moved out and taken half of everything with him. It’s easy to sense Michael’s frustration and grief - he has finally come out to his family - who has denounced him - just as his long-term boyfriend has dumped him for not being out and proud. 

His Auntie Pat summons him, and presents him with the diary of his Uncle Sam Mahana - the older brother of Michael’s father, and a relative that Michael had no idea existed. From her, he learns that he is not the first gay man in his family, nor the first to be cast out. From here, the narrative splits into two main storylines - the story of Michael in the present day (Y2K) whose work takes him to an Indigenous Arts conference in Canada, and the story of Sam, who serves in the Vietnam War (during the 70s) and falls in love with an American helicopter pilot, Cliff Harper.

If the name Mahana sounds familiar, it should - Sam’s father Arapeta Mahana is the brother of Tamihana Mahana from the book Bulibasha, and Arapeta’s rage, abuse, and controlling behaviour is at least on par with that of Tamihana. Sam and Michael’s fathers are both highly concerned with issues of whānau, duty, obedience, religion, and masculinity. Both of them would prefer their sons were dead - or dead to them - than to remain in connection to them.

For their parts, Cliff and Sam are both very dutiful, masculine, handsome, brave characters. Ihimaera depicts devastating scenes of war and what I presume is PTSD; during which both Sam and Cliff show physical skill and strength, problem solving, leadership, and loyalty. They also roughhouse and play sports with their mates, are patrons of women at brothels, and put away a fair amount of booze in their downtime. So, there is no “right” way to be masculine, but I wanted to note that even going by their parents standards, they fit the bill by all measures other than falling in love.

Grandfather Arapeta has consigned Uncle Sam to Te Kore, The Void. He had disconnected him from the umbilical cord of whakapapa, and sent him falling head over heels like a spaceman trailing his severed lifeline through a dark and hostile universe to oblivion.

This was how it was done to all gay men and women. But if we were lucky, oh if we were lucky, someone remembered who we were. Someone stopped us from becoming invisible. Expunged from memory. Deleted from the text.

There are some allies in this story - namely Auntie Pat (Sam’s sister) and Roimata (Michael’s friend and coworker, who is also tapatāpui) - although they have their own motives and secrets.

Change is not always telegraphed in big ways and with grand gestures. Sometimes it comes quietly from the silent places of the heart.

This book is brutal in its violence and coldness, but it is also crushing because it builds up such a believable relationship between Sam and Cliff, that as a reader, you want them to finish up with their service and start their own chosen family despite the odds stacked against them. They communicate in sign language, they make it through cultural differences, there are several interactions between them which are genuinely funny, warm, and hopeful.

The Uncle’s Story is not a perfect narrative - in some parts, it lags. Some of the language has evolved in the two decades since this was published. Arapeta and Jason are both villains whose perspectives and dedication to cruelty make them caricatures. The fates of some of the characters are not gratuitous, but very violent, and sad - as so many lives are wasted, especially QPOC lives, and Black transgender lives in particular. But ultimately, this is a story of love, hope, and progress - of working towards a future where people will no longer have to choose between being Māori and being gay; or between one’s biological or chosen family.

Uncle Sam, it is time to construct the world again, but a brave new world. Your story will become part of it and I will tell it until the whole world knows it.

I make my promise, Uncle Sam, to bind the new world’s top and bottom with light. I will tell your story to everyone I meet, whether they want to hear it or not. I will tell them how you loved a man and how wonderful that love was. With that love I will bind the outer framework of the world with the inner framework.

I have realized, Uncle Sam, that the telling of our stories will bring a location and a history to the world that we build. We who are gay and lesbian must fix the stories with firmness and solder their knots with purpose so that they become part of the narratives - the foundations, walls and roof - all peoples tell about each other. We must speak our stories, we must enact them, we must sing our songs throughout this hostile universe. We must bring a new promise to life and a new music to the impulse of history.

This book makes it very clear how rampant homophobia and transphobia are specifically within the Māori community. It also shows a story of multiple young people standing up for what they believe in, and the kinds of lives they want to lead. Many of the characters in this book help each other, and some take big risks or make big sacrifices in order to set things right or show conviction and leadership. The stories of Sam, Cliff, and Michael will stay with me for a long time.


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elysareadsitall's review

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5.0

This was my first experience with war-fiction, and it was a very easy introduction. The focus of the novel is on a gay uncle's diary and how a family and a native tribe react to homosexuality. This book defines "heart-wrenching story," and it is well-worth the read and the cost of tissues.

melbsreads's review against another edition

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5.0

Oh God, my feeeeeeeeeeelings.

This book is beautiful. But this book is absolutely brutal. I sobbed through the last 10% of the book because it broke my feelings into a million pieces.

This book is split between the 1970s and the late 2000s. It's split between Michael, a gay Maori man, and Sam, the uncle he never knew he had. It's split between New Zealand, Vietnam and America. It's split between Michael's first person narration and Sam's third person narration.

It's brutal because it deals with the harsh realities of the Vietnam War. It's brutal because it deals with homophobia in Indigenous communities. It's brutal because it's basically a New Zealand version of Brokeback Mountain. It's brutal because it's so compelling and so evocative and so powerful. It's brutal because you know exactly how Sam and Cliff's story will end and yet you can't help getting invested in it.
SpoilerThat said, the sexual side of their relationship felt.......not necessarily consensual at times?? Like, it's a forbidden-love story. They're under incredible time constraints. They clearly love each other. But...it was a little SAM SAID NO AND CLIFF DIDN'T STOP AND I'M NOT VERY COMFORTABLE WITH THIS ALSO MAYBE DON'T HAVE SEX ON A LADDER THAT SEEMS DANGEROUS-y. I also had really mixed feelings about the fact that Michael makes a passing comment to his homosexuality having come from being abused by family members as a child, something he's never discussed with anyone. It just....... I know there are gay men who were abused as children. But something about the way it was worded was...icky.


So I'm giving it five stars because it truly was an amazing book. It's heartbreaking and emotive and beautiful and compelling. But be aware that this book is confronting and contains some problematic elements.

sannereadstheworld's review

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4.0

I am not crying. nope.

Gosh. What a powerful last 50 pages. The story was moving along just fine for the major part of the novel: it was a nice novel, mostly focussing on the plot with lots of interesting details about Maori culture and the Vietnam war, but nothing that made me think "oh yeah, that's why other reviewers said this book made them cry like babies". But this book really snuck up on me, and before I knew it, I was reading the last pages with tears in my eyes.
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