Mama Jean
Whale Rider
After posting about The Nargun and the Stars, I knew I wanted my next post to be about The Whale Rider; although the countries that are the setting for the two stories are geographically close to each other, the ancestral spirits and philosophies couldn’t be more different. The Nargun and the Stars is about the massive land of Australia, with emphasis on “land,” and The Whale Rider is about the small island of New Zealand.
The story opens “in the old days” before New Zealand was even named: “the sea was ever-churning, shimmering and seamless to the sky, teeming with fish, waiting for the Ancients to come, yearning for them. And then they came, and the sea was filled with singing.” Who were “they”? The whales: one in particular that carried the sacred sign, or “swirling tattoo imprinted on the forehead.” But he wasn’t alone; astride the head, there was a man, the whale rider, “throwing spears into the sky that changed into birds and fish.” All but one “that would flower when the people were troubled,” and thus they waited for a thousand years.
This “golden human” who rode the whale had tended to the lead bull whale as a baby, after his mother was killed by sharks. This man/master played the flute, and his songs beckoned the young whale: a siren call to the whale.
It was this male that established the patriarchy to the land that would be called New Zealand, and the tribe, the Maori, until that line would be broken by Kahu, the first great-granddaughter, and thus rightfully the new whale rider. However, the current patriarch, Koro Apirana, said “I will have nothing to do with her, and literally, turned his back on his great-granddaughter.
Fast forward to when Kahu turns eight and exhibiting all the sign as being the next in line, that spear that had waited a thousand years for when trouble would occur. Kahu would never turn her back on her great-grandfather, ever, even though she was aware as to what was dividing her tribe: her gender. Even at this young age, she could communicate with the whales (and the dolphins) and they jumped from the sea when they heard her speak their language to them.
The rest of the story is the continuing of the conflict through and up until late summer. Kahu went into the sea, speaking—singing—to the whales calming their fears as their greatest enemy, Man, tried to kill them for meat and oil. The story continues, tracing Kahu’s rightful place from the original whale rider to present day.
It’s a “true” story and thus a love story, written in fewer than 200 pages and yet in its narration answers the three universal questions: who am I? Where did I come from? And What is my purpose in the world? Kahu instinctively knows the answers to those questions without even having to wonder, as she activates her role as the present-day whale rider. It’s also the story of how her great-grandfather came to see that he was wrong, and stubborn, and afraid of the changes started thousands of years ago.
So, Read! Enjoy! Like following the journey of Marcellus, the grumpy Pacific giant octopus, you’ll be a better person for doing so because you will become part of the community created by the narrative.
After posting about The Nargun and the Stars, I knew I wanted my next post to be about The Whale Rider; although the countries that are the setting for the two stories are geographically close to each other, the ancestral spirits and philosophies couldn’t be more different. The Nargun and the Stars is about the massive land of Australia, with emphasis on “land,” and The Whale Rider is about the small island of New Zealand.
The story opens “in the old days” before New Zealand was even named: “the sea was ever-churning, shimmering and seamless to the sky, teeming with fish, waiting for the Ancients to come, yearning for them. And then they came, and the sea was filled with singing.” Who were “they”? The whales: one in particular that carried the sacred sign, or “swirling tattoo imprinted on the forehead.” But he wasn’t alone; astride the head, there was a man, the whale rider, “throwing spears into the sky that changed into birds and fish.” All but one “that would flower when the people were troubled,” and thus they waited for a thousand years.
This “golden human” who rode the whale had tended to the lead bull whale as a baby, after his mother was killed by sharks. This man/master played the flute, and his songs beckoned the young whale: a siren call to the whale.
It was this male that established the patriarchy to the land that would be called New Zealand, and the tribe, the Maori, until that line would be broken by Kahu, the first great-granddaughter, and thus rightfully the new whale rider. However, the current patriarch, Koro Apirana, said “I will have nothing to do with her, and literally, turned his back on his great-granddaughter.
Fast forward to when Kahu turns eight and exhibiting all the sign as being the next in line, that spear that had waited a thousand years for when trouble would occur. Kahu would never turn her back on her great-grandfather, ever, even though she was aware as to what was dividing her tribe: her gender. Even at this young age, she could communicate with the whales (and the dolphins) and they jumped from the sea when they heard her speak their language to them.
The rest of the story is the continuing of the conflict through and up until late summer. Kahu went into the sea, speaking—singing—to the whales calming their fears as their greatest enemy, Man, tried to kill them for meat and oil. The story continues, tracing Kahu’s rightful place from the original whale rider to present day.
It’s a “true” story and thus a love story, written in fewer than 200 pages and yet in its narration answers the three universal questions: who am I? Where did I come from? And What is my purpose in the world? Kahu instinctively knows the answers to those questions without even having to wonder, as she activates her role as the present-day whale rider. It’s also the story of how her great-grandfather came to see that he was wrong, and stubborn, and afraid of the changes started thousands of years ago.
So, Read! Enjoy! Like following the journey of Marcellus, the grumpy Pacific giant octopus, you’ll be a better person for doing so because you will become part of the community created by the narrative.