An inventive exploration of Indigenous families, womanhood, and alternate post-colonial realities by a writer of Māori and Coast Salish descent.
Tauhou envisions a shared past between two Indigenous cultures, set on reimagined versions of Vancouver Island and Aotearoa that sit side by side in the ocean. Each chapter in this innovative hybrid novel is a fable, an autobiographical memory, a poem. A monster guards cultural objects in a museum, a woman uncovers her own grave, another woman remembers her estranged father. On rainforest beaches and grassy dunes, sisters and cousins contend with the ghosts of the past — all the way back to when the first foreign ships arrived on their shores.
In a testament to the resilience of Indigenous women, the two sides of this family, Coast Salish and Māori, must work together in understanding and forgiveness to heal that which has been forced upon them by colonialism. Tauhou is an ardent search for answers, for ways to live with truth. It is a longing for home, to return to the land and sea.
Ms Nuttall (Te Ātiawa, Ngāti Tūwharetoa, W̱SÁNEĆ) holds an MA from the International Institute of Modern Letters. She won the 2020 Adam Foundation Prize and was runner-up in the 2021 Surrey Hotel–Newsroom writer’s residency award. She lives on the Kāpiti Coast of Aotearoa New Zealand.
The book was a tribute to the author’s Māori and Coast Salish ancestors. It seemed fairly confusing at the start but, eventually, I was (mostly) able to follow the storyline. The writing was quite beautiful, but I felt it was a little too disjointed. I did enjoy it, but not consistently, so 3.5 stars.
The novel is an exploration of womanhood in indigenous families. It is set in a re-imagined world where Vancouver Island and Aotearoa are next to one another. The author envisions a shared past between the two sides of her own identity: Māori and Coastal Salish. It explores feelings of loss and incompleteness in a post-colonial world, where people have been pushed out of their lands or confined to reservations, where European vacationers visit ancestral grounds with more ease than those indigenous to the land, and where the ghosts of the past are ever present; it poses the question: is it possible to return home?
Rather than following one central storyline, it felt like the pages of several short stories and poems were scattered into the wind. It had a haunting effect, like echoes from the blue-light ghosts that the author scattered throughout the narratives. Everything, from the most mystical chapters to the most down-to-earth, had a tinge of these echoes of the past, inter-generational trauma and grief passed down from grandmothers to mothers to daughters. The different stories had different styles of prose, and some of the more lyrical ones really swept me away. The poetry woven in was a beautiful touch as well.
I would note that I first read through this on my e-reader, and the formatting made it hard to follow. I decided to download a pdf version onto my computer to see if that made more sense and it absolutely did! In the pdf, the chapter and section breaks were much clearer, making it much easier to follow the book's non-linear flow. I think this is probably the type of book that will work best in physical printed form than other mediums, so I'd recommend that readers pick up a physical copy once its available.
4.25 stars
Thanks to Netgalley and House of Anansi Press for this ARC to read and review.
This is described as a “hybrid novel.” It’s part poetry collection, part connected short stories. Each chapter feels like a vignette. There are some repeating characters, but mostly it shares a setting and focus with the other chapters, not a continuous plot.
Living in British Columbia, I have some familiarity with Coast Salish history and culture, but only in a broad sense. I have even less knowledge of Māori history and culture, which means I know that some of this went over my head. The author’s note explains that this is not a book to educate readers on either: she has combined and reimagined these two cultures that she shares, so it’s not meant to be representative of the real world. Indigenous authors and authors of colour are often expected to educate white readers, so I appreciated Nuttall’s rejection of this idea.
Each chapter is quite short, so we don’t spend a lot of time with any individual character. Instead, we get glimpses into their lives, including how colonialism has affected them.
Queerness is not the focus of any of these vignettes, but it is woven throughout. We see a woman and her wife hosting a dinner party while she fights off a panic attack. A young woman tries to introduce her white girlfriend to her aunty in the graveyard. (That one was my favourite.) An artist paints her muse/lover and can’t help comparing their bodies.
Nuttall is skilled in establishing characters, mood, and setting in just a few pages. Although we kept moving to different points of view, I was swept up in this setting that weaves together two cultures in fascinating and thoughtful ways. I’ll definitely be picking up whatever this author writes next.
Tauhou ist der Name eines kleinen Vogels auf Te Reo Maori, der Sprache der indigenen Bevölkerung Neuseelands. Der kleine Singvogel wurde im 19. Jahrhundert das erste Mal auf den neuseeländischen Inseln gesichtet und es wird vermutet, dass ein Schwarm damals durch Windböen abgedrängt wurde und in der Folge auf Aotearoa landete. Das Maori-Wort “tauhou” heißt aber gleichzeitig auch Fremder oder Neuankömmling. Nun würde man bei einem Roman aus indigener Sichtweise bei “Fremden” sofort an die europäischen Kolonialisten denken.
Kōtuku Titihuia Nuttall setzt den Fokus in ihren kurzen Erzählungen jedoch ausschließlich auf die indigene Erfahrungswelt in verschiedensten Aspekten, die natürlich beeinflusst ist von Kolonisation, sich dadurch jedoch nicht definiert. Vielmehr setzt sie die beiden Stränge ihrer eigenen Herkunft - einerseits Maori, Neuseeland, andererseits Salish, Vancouver Island in Kanada - zu einem universellen Kaleidoskop zusammen, verschmilzt Geografie und Generationen.
Das Buch hat laut meinen Namen gerufen, als meine Freundin es für mich in einer neuseeländischen Buchhandlung entdeckte. Für mich waren diese einzelnen Vignetten - oft auch übernatürlicher, symbolischer und fabelhafter Art -wertvoll und sprachlich an einigen Stellen wunderschön umgesetzt. Allerdings fehlte für mich trotz des übergeordneten Themas etwas der Kleber zwischen den einzelnen Teilen, der mir durch die Zusammenstellung dieser Erfahrungen eine noch tiefere Einsicht gewähren würde als die, dass die Protagonisten wieder zu ihren Wurzeln, ihrer Geschichte und Kultur zurückkehren.
Vielleicht fehlt es mir an persönlicher Verbindung, um die Power dieses Werks spüren zu können, andererseits sollte meiner Ansicht nach genau das ein Buch leisten: Die spezifischen Erfahrungen und Empfindungen für Leser*innern jeglicher Identität zugänglich und fühlbar zu machen. Und diese völlige Immersion hat mir hier leider bis zum Schluss gefehlt.
Vielleicht gibt der Titel noch etwas mehr Aufschluss. Meine Interpretation: Wir sind alle Fremde und Neuankömmlinge auf dieser Welt und müssen unseren Platz hier suchen. Ein Aufruf zu Vergebung und Abkehr von der ewigen Schuldfrage, ein Aufruf zur Besinnung auf das eigene Potential und die eigene Geschichte.
an extremely interesting book of vignettes and poems, the meaning of certain sections is unfortunately lost. the changes between point of view were a bit jarring, it was always difficult to figure out who was speaking and who they were connected to. the topics of colonialism, forced relocation, climate change, sex, and gender are well written, but i do believe it would benefit from some reordering. my favorite vignette is about traditional tattooing methods, but the tattoos themselves were not described with rich imagery as i thought they would be.
thank you to netgalley and the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review!
I loved this book! Such rich storytelling with beautifully entangled elements, tying and contrasting past and present moments for Coast Salish & Māori women this is such a fascinating read. This is a book I read & re-read!
3.5, rounding up. Tauhou is beautifully written and evocative, perhaps more a collection of vignettes than a cohesive linear narrative, highly experimental as far as novels go and utterly compelling. Nuttall can do a lot -a lot- with very few words, bringing characters and moods to life in scenes of only a few pages and exploring themes with depth and thoughtfulness. I can't say this novel was quite what I expected from the description, but I would absolutely read more from Kōtuku Titihuia Nuttall based on this book.
Content warnings: colonialism, racism, residential schools, child abuse, sexual abuse, rape (mentioned, not on page), suicidal thoughts, suicide, fire injury
The chapters contained within Tauhou are disparate yet wholly interconnected, making for an original reading experience that blends earthly elements with love, beauty, & pain.
This isn't the place we thought we would end up, but it's the only way to the things we're hiding from. p115
The stories are allegorical, melodramatic. I wonder which bits are true. p146
Kotuku Titihuia Nuttall is a poet who has crafted an amalgam world of mythic proportions on a slender frame.
She is a trick, a locked door, the disembodied laugh of a ghost in the hallway. p126
I tried to talk to her but it quickly became clear we didn't share any language. We had to talk like animals do, in gesture and paces and dance. We learned to talk without all the words in the way...trying to build a language together. p156
she is little more than a shape the light hits...p167
Gently, with lyrical precision, KTN leads the reader across the gaps in narrative and perspective moving from multiple points of view that, if not exactly familiar to most of us, are mostly comprehensible. Her vividly spare descriptions of landscape are breathtaking and contain a wisdom we would do well to integrate.
You need to meet a tree just once to remember all the different ways it can be your friend. p115
Just as we are getting comfortable in the narrative, bonding with the characters whom at first seemed exotic, KTN widens the scope.
They look at each other, these women across centuries, and find glimmers of themselves hiding in one anothers form. p142
In addition to the literary merit of this brilliant work, KTN is contributing to the restoration of languages that were almost extinguished. A rudimentary dictionary is included.
Sensuous and lyrical does not always mean soft or wavering. This is a strong voice that right at the beginning warns: take care while reading. But do read this clarion call.
"Tukua mai he kapunga oneone ki ahau hei tangi māku. Send me a handful of soil so I may grieve over it."
Kōtuku Titihuia Nuttall collection touches on some of the experiences Indigenous people encounter due to the effects of colonization and genocide against them such as mental and physical illness, domestic abuse, land neglect and pollution, and being deprived of their cultures and traditions.
Here's the list of my favorite stories: - HE WAHINE AHAU / EHARA AHAU I TE WAHINE - WHAEA - THE SIGHT - TAUHOU
Tauhou is a rare jewel, a mix of poetry and prose that educates while being beautiful. By creating a world in which Māori and Coast Salish peoples are connected, Nuttall offers a place in which to consider climate change, colonialism, and post-colonialism through artifacts and landmarks, changed patterns in the weather, and resource distribution. It's a phantasmagoria of a novel, moving in place and time, creating moments when the reader is briefly lost, then set down on solid ground again. Highly recommended reading for everyone, and especially writers seeking to create new worlds from our current one.
Had I not read the synopsis before beginning this experimental novel, I would have had no idea what was happening. The prose is beautiful, and the author touches on the topics of colonization, land loss, climate change, and forced relocation in new and inovative ways. The format just made it impossible to truly feel immersed in the author's world.
Thank you to NetGalley and House of Anansi press for providing me with an ARC of this beautifully written book.
I feel dumb for not realizing there was a glossary in the back for the native languages lmao. That would have certainly helped my experience reading this. It was also a little fragmented in its stories which I think was a poetic technique but made it hard to follow. I still really enjoyed it and felt the beauty and pain of life of Indigenous folks through Nuttall’s writing.
have fucked up the bus route today and am at the bus stop 7 mins before it arrives as i make my way to alison’s potluck. tauhou was a beautiful book. so many descriptions of food and painting and nature and our relationship with the world around us. i was enamoured by the way in weaved in and out of the past, through short stories and poetry. it felt like such a reflection of the author. i particularly enjoyed that stories that felt like depictions of the authors insecurities as these felt so well crafted. more explorative stories where she talks to ghosts or follows birds also supported the narrative idea of this story. lots of this book, while i know based on vancouver island as well as aotearoa, strangely reminded me of time spent outside with my parents outside camping and exploring growing up. at times i felt nostalgic of my relationship with my father and began to wander of in thoughts of how we got to where we are. this book is such an exploration of kotuku’s experiences and i think was beautiful and artistic. so much exploration of being someone from multiple cultures in a modern world. looking at where she came from. how colonisation has affected her family. this was very good.
A gorgeous, lyrical and heart wrenching hybrid novel, filled with indigenous stories from Māori and Coast Salish characters. The stories were a blend of poetry, short chapters and passages. Characters appear throughout but it isn’t until the end where you get an understanding of the full picture and how they fit together. They all deal with the effects of colonisation on indigenous cultures and the reclamation of language, stories and family by the current generations. This work is beautiful and devastating, I didn’t even notice I was turning the pages until I suddenly found myself at the end.
*I don't actually have this edition but I can't find the equivalent of my copy on Goodreads...
tess is right, it was exactly like a puzzle, but there’s no box and none of the pieces are quite big enough to see how they fit together. sort of like my thoughts about a complicated kindness, I didn’t quite get it.
nevertheless, the writing was gorgeous and evocative. I think I should read this again in about a month and I will be able to better appreciate the circularity and hauntingness of it all. the first and last chapters were SO beautifully paired—I want to frame them side by side on the wall in a triptych with a photo of nuttall’s twin islands in between.
Wow! This book is really cool. I love how it's constructed out of short stories/vignettes/poems/pieces of writing because it makes the writing so much more ethereal. Climate change, colonialism, and generational trauma are themes explored and I think that Nuttall handles it well and the ordering of the short stories (which are sometimes jarring) help her create that feeling of relocation and upending.
This book is a fictional mashup of two real cultures of the author, Māori and W̱SÁNEĆ. It's a collection of short stories all about people from fictional islands at different times, pre and post colonization, and it's effects on the people, language, and culture. The descriptions in this book are at times beautiful and heartbreaking.
A poetically written novel imagining 2 Indigenous peoples and lands working together who are in reality thousands of miles apart on the Pacific Ocean. Nuttall has written love letters to her people, land and ancestors she otherwise doesn’t know due to colonialism.