The Bone People

“Nasty. Gnomish, thinks Kerewin. The shock of surprise is going and cold cutting anger comes sweeping in to take its place.

‘What are you doing here? Aside from climbing walls?’

There is something distinctly unnatural about it. it stands there unmoving, sullen and silent.” 

This passage describes Kerewin and Simon’s first meeting. This is also the first time the artist displays her angry side, which can easily become vicious and biting. She calls Simon “nasty,” revealing her dislike of, or at least disinterest in, children. While they might be surprised or shocked, most people would probably not react so strongly and negatively to finding a child in their home, especially during a storm. Additionally, Kerewin attempts to distance herself from Simon by thinking of him as an “it,” a creature, rather than another human being.

“None of my business, I know, but it’s a little unusual to find the matter treated rationally. Most parents I’ve had the misfortune to meet don’t think about it at all. They instantly assume if their young kid smokes, it’s wrong. Doesn’t matter if they smoke themselves—watch out, kid! A good example of how parents in our society tend easily to tyranny—I shall make or mould my child as I see fit, without too much reference to the developing personality or needs of the child.” 

Kerewin makes this observation after her first dinner at Joe’s house when she sees Simon smoking in the presence of his foster father. Joe’s rationale for allowing it is that the boy does not actually inhale the smoke, but simply likes to pretend to be an adult. Kerewin touches on an important problem: Parents often do not attempt to understand the reasons behind their children’s misbehavior and do not consider their personalities and individual inclinations. A lack of intergenerational communication can result in bad parenting. Ironically, while in this instance Joe is being rational, Kerewin observes the same problem behind his lack of interest in Simon’s motivations when he fights or steals.

“‘I am but an eighth Maori, by heart, by spirit, and inclination, I feel all Maori. Or,’ she looked down into the drink, ‘I used to. Now it feels like the best part of me has got lost in the way I live.’”

In this quote, it becomes clear that Kerewin values her Maori heritage more highly than her European one. Despite her being mostly white, she defines the one-eighth that is not as “the best part” of her, clearly valorizing it over the other seven parts. However, because of this mixed heritage, it seems the artist feels lost. Her lifestyle does not correspond to what she believes is required of a Maori, creating a feeling of disconnection.

“No, being a puppet in someone else’s play. Not having any say […] It has its compensations, I suppose. I’ve paid off the house, and I’ve got some money in the bank. We’re clothed and we eat. All the good old pakeha standbys and justifications. Though it’s hard hours. I start at seven and I never get home before five. Sometimes six. Even seven. Too long to be away from Haimona, eh?” 

This passage reveals how Joe feels about his work and life. Like Kerewin, his life choices have resulted in a loss of meaning and identity. He has achieved success by European standards, but economic security ultimately has very little to offer without a family to share it with or some other occupation that brings a sense of fulfillment. This feeling of powerlessness is not necessarily limited to Maori factory workers, but the knowledge that buying into European values when there is an alternative way of being is part of the social isolation and frustration unique to a colonized culture.

“But I’ve also discovered I’m a snob […] I was reveling in the knowledge of my whakapapa and solid Lancashire and Hebridean ancestry. Stout commoners on the left side, and real rangatira on the right distaff side. A New Zealander through and through. Moanawhenua bones and heart and blood and brain. None of your (retch) import Poms or whateffers.” 

In this passage, Kerewin affirms and embraces her identity as both a working-class white person and a colonized Maori one. Her rejection of European values, which prioritize wealth and aristocratic birth, is symbolic of her wider rejection of colonial logic. Colonialization is fundamentally linked to economic and imperial expansion, which in turn is motivated by the development of capitalism and consumerism in Western Europe in the late 18th and 19th centuries. By rejecting the social hierarchy imposed by the British Empire in the past, Kerewin prioritizes the new, mixed society in New Zealand, made up mostly of laborers. The White farmers and blue-collar workers who have colonized the islands have more in common with the local Maori population than with the aristocratic and wealthy factory owners. Such an attitude alludes to Marx’s and Engels’ socialist theories, as well as to earlier anticolonial movements aimed at elevating the colonized culture, such as Négritude.

“Sometimes she seems ordinary. She is lonely. She drinks like I do, to keep away the ghosts. She’s an outsider, like me. And then sometimes, she seems inhuman…like this Tower is inhuman. Comfortable to be in, pleasant, if you ignore the toadstools in the walls.” 

Joe’s initial perception of Kerewin reveals why he might be drawn to her. He recognizes someone in a similar position to him, meaning that Kerewin can empathize with Joe’s feelings of isolation and loneliness. What he perceives as inhuman, at first, is probably Kerewin’s rejection of gender and sexuality norms. This marks her as different from both other men and women, setting her apart. Such a description suggests that Joe does not yet fully understand Kerewin and is not ready to fully accept her.

“‘There is a vicious streak in him, Kere, and I’m frightened it might be bred into him.’ Face full of gentle sadness, ‘I don’t know what to do sometimes.’” 

Joe speaks of his fears about Simon’s violent tendencies. He suggests that violence is not an entirely natural inclination, but a learned behavior. Joe suspects that Simon has been treated viciously, which in turn has made him behave violently toward others. However, his words can also be taken as a self-reflection, as he, too, is a product of a violent and abusive household, which would explain his physical abuse of the boy. This passage raises the important idea that victims of abuse often become abusers. As a result, simply punishing the person who is violent toward others is not helpful or constructive, as that punishment simply adds to the pain they have suffered in the past. Breaking the chain of abuse is not a simple or quick endeavor.

“Stupid Clare, he says inside himself, as he limps towards the Tower. He has called himself that, Clare, Claro, ever since he can remember. He doesn’t know if that’s his name, and he’s never told it to anyone. He has a feeling if he does, he’ll die. Stupid Clare, again and again, with each halt step. If he hadn’t thrown the plate, he wouldn’t have got the kicks. On the other hand, if he hadn’t thrown the plate, it might have got worse.” 

This is the first instance in the novel in which Simon reveals his secret name. He does not confide it to anyone until the very end of the novel. It is only when Kerewin goes back to Moerangi that she sees it spelled out with stones behind the beach house. At the same time, this is one of the moments that foreshadow the revelation of Joe’s abuse. Hinting at something terrible that has happened rather than describing it outright builds the suspense. Finally, in this passage, Simon displays his warped coping mechanism. He uses his body as a type of sacrifice to Joe’s violence, in order to deescalate the situation and prevent something worse from happening.

“His eyelids are swollen, buddhalike, and purple. His lower lip is split, and blood has dried blackly in the corners of his mouth. Bruises across the highboned cheeks, and already they’re dark. He has been struck hard and repeatedly across his face.”

This scene is the first description of Simon’s abuse at Joe’s hands. Like Kerewin, the reader is not immediately made aware of the beatings happening behind the seemingly loving and caring relationship between Joe and Simon. The description of the boy’s injuries is in the passive voice, leaving the identity of the perpetrator hidden. While other snippets in the story gradually lead the reader to the realization that Joe is being violent beyond the extent of a disciplinary slap the way he implies, the initial lack of clear evidence highlights how difficult it is to identify and address cases of child abuse, suggesting that domestic violence might be a much more widespread problem that no one wants to address.

“She is screaming with delight inside herself, trembling with dark joy. Fight. Fight. Fight.” 

This passage reveals the violent and destructive tendencies that exist inside Kerewin. Initially, she is presented as laidback and tolerant, despite her antisocial attitude. At the beach, however, a new side is revealed. She does not go out of her way to cause the fight, but she enjoys the opportunity to engage in physical confrontations and does not make any attempt to avoid violence. This normally hidden side makes it easy to believe her capable of being spiteful toward Simon at the end of Chapter 8.

“Get rid of the anger round the woman, stop the first with blows, with pain, then pity, then repair, then good humor again. It works that way…it always did.” 

This is a key moment in the novel as it reveals a glimpse into the psyche and inner working of an abuse victim. Simon has learned that he can divert physical abuse toward others by sacrificing himself. Furthermore, he deems it a normal mechanism for venting anger and reestablishing a harmonious environment. He is ready to accept the physical pain if it makes the ones he loves happy and calm. Simon’s generous and loving nature is being used against him.

“A family can be the bane of one’s existence. A family can also be most of the meaning of one’s existence. I don’t know whether my family is bane or meaning, but they have surely gone away and left a large hole in my heart.” 

This passage describes Kerewin’s attitude toward her family. This is an important quote as it relates to the key Maori concept of whanau. Ultimately, the novel demonstrates that being alone is destructive, as it leads to isolation and loss of meaning. Despite the problems that arise from being part of a community, the advantages of having a whanau outweigh the potential hurt.

“Through poverty, godhunger, the family debacle, I kept a sense of worth. I could limn and paint like no-one else in this human-wounded land: I was worth the while of living. Now my skill is dead. I should be.

But I can’t.

Let the razor sleek into my flesh. The numb night of overdose send me stillness.

So I exist, a husk that wishes decay into sweet earth.”

This passage reveals how deeply unhappy and borderline depressed Kerewin is becoming. While not actively seeking death, she displays passive suicidal ideation. The artist is clearly not in a good mental state, which explains her inability to deal with emotional turmoil and the hurtful and spiteful words she says to Simon.

“But ever since I can remember, I’ve disliked close contact...charged contact, emotional contact, as well as any overtly sexual contact. I veer away from it, because it always feels like the other person is draining something out of me.” 

In this passage Kerewin reveals her asexuality to Joe. She is not someone who easily opens up to others, but it is clear the artist cares for Joe and Simon in her own way. Kerewin is aware of Joe’s wish to propose to her and with this conversation attempts to explain to him that if they come together and create a family, it will not be a traditional one based on romantic feelings, sex, and the drive to procreate. However, her words are also not an outright rejection, but are potentially a request to accept her the way she is.

“Ah God, sweet Jesus, look at her...leanwristed, leanankled, but strong thickhipped body, ripe for bearing children no matter what she says... Lord, I could have more children by her...narrow waist I could put my hands around.” 

This passage, toward the end of Chapter 7, reveals Joe’s inability at that point to truly understand what Kerewin has tried to explain about her sexuality and gender identity. He is still thinking along well-established socially acceptable lines, trying to fit Kerewin into his conception of what a woman should be. However, his thoughts commit a type of violence by sexualizing and inscribing her into a role she clearly rejects. This thinking shows not only a lack of understanding, but also a lack of respect for Kerewin’s desires.

“You’ve got, you had genuine love between you. You’ve given him a solid base of love to grow from, for all the hardship you’ve put him through. You’ve been mother and father and home to him. And probably tomorrow they’ll read you a smug little homily, castigating you for ill treatment and neglect. And they’ll congratulate themselves quite publicly for rescuing the poor urchin from this callous ogre, their nightmare of a parent…you got your lawyer clued up on all the background? The real background, the one that counts? Being both parents to him, helping him over his bad dreams, picking him up from all round the countryside, going along to school to find out what the matter is this time…it all shows you cared deeply. In a negative way, so does the fact that you beat him. At least, you worried enough about what you considered was his wrongdoing to try and correct it.” 

This quote is from a conversation between Kerewin and Joe while Simon is in the hospital. The artist’s words remind the reader that Joe is not a one-dimensional villain who hates and mistreats his foster son. The Maori man did take care of the boy, to the best of his abilities, despite Simon’s problematic behavior and mental issues. This duality and juxtaposition are what make the situation particularly poignant and ambivalent. It is impossible to outright hate Joe, but it is just as difficult to absolve him of his actions. In fact, Kerewin seems to be attempting to excuse the beatings as a “negative” kind of love, but from Joe’s own musings, it is clear that the problem runs deeper and is related to the man’s own repressed emotions. Nevertheless, it becomes evident that dealing with domestic abuse can never be as easy or straightforward as the system might make it look on the surface. Especially, if the social workers and lawyers involved are white, it is possible their attitude toward a Maori man mistreating a pakeha child would be biased.

“He could never imagine his great-grandfather, who had taken part in several feasts of people, as a cannibal. He remembered the old man only as a picture of a silver-haired fiercely dignified chief. He’d always imagined cannibals to be little wizened people, with pointy teeth.

‘We’re meat, same as anything else,’ his grandmother had said.”

This quote forces the readers to reconsider their attitudes toward and preconceived notions about the practice of cannibalism. When the first European explorers and missionaries encountered this custom among the peoples they would eventually colonize, enslave, or attempt to assimilate, they did not attempt to understand the reasons and rationale behind the act of human flesh consumption, labeling it outright as savage, demonic, and reprehensible. It was used as a convenient symbol of indigenous moral inferiority to justify the need for Christianization. However, such a view is a Western perception, based on the idea of human, and especially white, superiority. In the Maori worldview, people, animals, and the environment are fundamentally interconnected. Pork meat, for example, is not necessarily inherently different from human flesh. Consequently, within the Maori context, the practice of cannibalism can be seen as a humbling act.

“‘When the dead are dead, you cannot bring them back. Not by memory, or desire, or love.’

‘I know,’ says Joe, more softly.

The kaumatua sighs.

‘But you are still calling to her.’” 

This conversation between the old wise man and Joe addresses the younger man’s lingering grief and his inability to let go of the past. Part of the problem is the fact that Hana was not only someone he loved, but also the embodiment of a way of life and the thing that made Joe’s existence meaningful. Without his wife and the promise of a family, he feels useless and powerless, burdened with the responsibility of taking care of a traumatized, white child.

“I know my child was a gift, and that I loved him too hard, and hated him too much. That I was ashamed of him. I wanted him as ordinarily complex and normally simple as one of Piri’s rowdies. I resented his difference, and therefore, I tried to make him as tame and malleable as possible, so I could show myself […] And I loved and hated him for the way he remained himself, and still loved me despite it all.” 

In this quote, Joe takes a close look at his motivations for beating Simon and comes to an understanding of his conflicted feelings concerning the child. It is difficult to face one’s own ugly parts, but Joe is willing to do it, demonstrating a positive character trait. This moment of self-awareness is freeing, as it allows Joe to accept and articulate his weaknesses, making it unnecessary to maintain what he believes is the pakeha lifestyle. As a result, he is able to truly embrace his Maori heritage later in the novel. Ultimately, this passage is what gives hope to the reader that Joe can be redeemed and can eventually make up for his treatment of Simon.

“Kerewin...I was trying to make her fit my idea of what a friend, a partner was. I could see only the one way...whatever she thought she was, bend her to the idea that lovers are, marriage is, the only sanity. Don’t accept merely what she can offer, make her give and take more...now I can see other possibilities, other ways, and there is still a hope...” 

After serving his prison sentence and undergoing a journey, Joe comes to a profound realization about his relationship with and attitude toward Kerewin. This is part of the wider process of embracing his Maori heritage and becoming a spiritual guardian. Seeing how exploitative his behavior has been, Joe is ready to help build a new society that does not conform to preconceived notions of how people should relate to each other.

“And home is Joe, Joe of the hard hands but sweet love, Joe who can comfort, Joe who takes care. The strong man, the man who cries with him. And home has become Kerewin, Kerewin the distant who is so close. The woman who is wise, who doesn’t tell him lies. The strong woman, the woman of the sea and the fire.

And if he can’t go home, he might as well not be. They might as well not be, because they only make sense together. He knew that in the beginning with an elation beyond anything he had ever felt. He has worked at keeping them together whatever the cost. Not family, not whanau…maybe there aren’t words for us yet? But we have to be together. If we are not, we are nothing. We are broken. We are nothing.” 

This passage is another rare glimpse into Simon’s psyche. The boy’s inner voice sounds much more mature than a child of his age should. The boy once more demonstrates that his understanding of the surrounding world goes much deeper than that of the adults around him. He sees and perceives things beyond their surface and gives voice to the book’s message, articulated in the Prologue. Simon understands that the three protagonists have to be together to balance and help each other. Individually, they will not have the strength to change themselves or to alter the perceptions of others. By living together as a family, however, they can demonstrate through their actions that it is possible to find a way to coexist harmoniously without being biologically related.

“Secondly, medicine is in a queer state of ignorance. It knows a lot, enough to be aware that it is ignorant, but practitioners are loath to admit that ignorance to patients. And there is no holistic treatment. Doctor does not confer with religious who does not confer with dietician who does not confer with psychologist. And from what I can learn about cancer treatment, the attempted cure is often worse than the disease…” 

Kerewin’s view of the New Zealand health system could also be applied to society at large. Social problems are like a cancer, but their cure is ineffectual since each group, whether defined by race, social class, or institutional affiliation, remains isolated rather than trying to work together on improving life for everyone. This idea echoes a call by Irihapeti Ramsden—health activist and part of the collective that published this book—for consideration to be given to non-European religious identities and customs within the health care system as a way to provide better treatment to patients.

“Sunflowers and seashells and logarithmic spirals (said Kerewin); sweep of galaxies and the singing curve of the universe (said Kerewin); the oscillating wave thrumming in the nothingness of every atom’s heart (said Kerewin); did you think I could build a square house? So the round shell house holds them all in its spiraling embrace.” 

This passage describes in detail how Kerewin envisions her new home. The house is built in the shape of a spiral or a seashell, revealing her renewed connection to both Maori culture and the surrounding world. Additionally, the circular shape of the house is juxtaposed to a square, which is a symbol of the established order. Despite rejecting her isolation, Kerewin is not willing to change fundamentally to fit in with mainstream society. Instead, she finds a new way to coexist with those around her. While she is not a typical mother or wife, she is willing to provide shelter to her people by opening her new home to them.