Durham; London: Duke University Press, 2017. xii, 270 pp. (Map, illustrations.) US$25.95, paper. ISBN 978-0-8223-6368-2.
More than a decade after the publication of her book Aloha Betrayed: Native Hawaiian Resistance to American Colonialism, Noenoe K. Silva offers a deeper insight into the works of colonial historiography of Hawaiʻi. In a similar methodological vein, The Power of the Steel-tipped Pen: Reconstructing Native Hawaiian Intellectual History presents a rewriting of history by prioritizing what thus far has too often been dismissed or mistranslated: primary archival material in the Hawaiian language, more specifically, Hawaiian-language newspapers. Silva reconstructs her people’s intellectual history from the position of a native speaker, affirming both language and place as crucial for this endeavour.
Focusing on two public intellectuals writing for newspapers at different times, Joseph Hoʻonaʻauao Kānepuʻu (1824–1883) and Joseph Mokuʻōhai Poepoe (1870–1913), the author describes three main values both shared, which also form the conceptual base of the book: commitment to aloha ‘āina (love for the land, and people), an acceptance of their kuleana (right, responsibility) to teach by writing and publishing, and what Silva coins moʻokūʻauhau (genealogy) consciousness. They relate in that aloha ʻāina and teaching kuleana define a certain mode of thinking and acting, that of moʻokūʻauhau consciousness: Kānepuʻu’s and Poepoe’s acts of reconstructing their ancestors’ mele (songs, poetry) and poetic traditions with the foresight of their own descendants, like Silva and others, “whose primary language is now that of the colonizer, but who need and are benefiting from their efforts to write in Hawaiian” (7). The book presents these values or motivations by way of a meticulous analysis of the two writers’ news stories, mele, moʻolelo (narratives), geographical descriptions, letters, as well as stylistic uses of kaona (a word’s hidden meaning).
Kenyan writer and literary scholar Ngũgĩ Wa Thiong’o offers a foreword in which he underlines the importance of language and storytellers for decolonizing the mind, both in Hawaiʻi and other places with colonial repercussions. The introduction situates the book in scholarship of the resurgence of Hawaiian and wider Indigenous epistemologies, as well as efforts to reinstall the lāhui (people; nation) of Hawaiʻi. The main body of the book is structured in two parts, respectively portraying Joseph H. Kānepuʻu, a school teacher from Molokai, and Joseph M. Poepoe, an attorney from the island of Hawaiʻi. Parts 1 and 2 are each subcategorized into three chapters, with the first chapters providing a literary biography of the respective author, followed by a discussion of the literary writing and skills, and a closer analysis of a specific literary genre the author was known for. The short conclusion sums up the importance of intellectual genealogy.
Molokai-born Joseph Hoʻonaʻauao Kānepuʻu likely received most of his education through his ʻohana (family), showing the value of portraying an intellectual who did not go through (much) formal schooling. Between the 1850s and 1880s, he contributed to numerous Hawaiian-language newspapers, among them the first Kānaka Maoli-controlled Ka Hoku o ka Pakipika (Star of the Pacific), which he also cofounded. In his early career he wrote mele or moʻolelo, which now provide valuable clues to misinterpretations of more standardized English translations—particularly the common separation of a story’s plot from its poetric virtues (chapter 2). The value of Kānepuʻu’s work further lies in his minute aloha ʻāina (care for the land) accounts elaborated in chapter 3, through which he upheld a native approach to geography. Kānepuʻu invited his readers’ contributions and critiques and supported a diverse (Hawaiian-speaking) newspaper landscape. He thereby asserted that he did not hold all knowledge, reflecting a Hawaiian philosophy that not one version of a story, but rather diverse interpretations, hold (all) truth.
Joseph Mokuʻōhai Poepoe followed a generation after Kānepuʻu, and went through more formal schooling on Oʻahu. An active writer from the 1870s until the early 1910s, the trained lawyer dedicated most of his work as a public intellectual to explaining the legal and political system to his Hawaiian-speaking readers. Poepoe witnessed a plethora of Hawaiian newspapers at the turn of the century, when the independent Hawaiian Kingdom was annexed to the United States. Contentious debates erupted as newspapers switched from the Hawaiian language to English. While he opposed this rapid shift, foreseeing the loss of the Hawaiian language and ways of knowing, in a surprising move he changed his position on the annexation to the United States, ultimately advocating for it. Chapter 5 offers illustrative examples of how the ‘āina and deities are intertwined, such as through the mapping that accompanies Poepoe’s mele (song) of the Hiʻiaka moʻolelo (story). In the final chapter, Silva discusses Poepoe’s “Moolelo Hawaii Kahiko” (ancient Hawaiian history), paying particular attention to the way he addressed his young readers, explaining and making the story more understandable. Like Kānepuʻu’s work, the chapter also offers fascinating new insights, such as the cosmogonic genealogy of Kumulipo.
The value of this book lies in its conceptual multidimensionality. Moʻokūʻahau consciousness is not merely an elaborated concept, but the very endeavour of the book; as Silva states, a genealogy of writing and scholarship. Writing this book, she no doubt practiced this foresight and retrospective writing and thinking with her own descendants in mind, frequently stating the need for more research of these historical documents. Readers somewhat versed in the Hawaiian language and Hawaiʻi’s history will find this work to be a valuable source. Those less familiar, such as Indigenous studies scholars, literary scholars, or geographers, will take much from learning about the interrelatedness of place and language in Hawaiian Indigenous epistemology. The book will also be an important teaching resource for those working in Kanaka Maoli (native Hawaiian) language and cultural education, such as Hawaiian-centred charter schools. Overall, the concept and practice of moʻokūʻauhau consciousness is sure to find much resonance among those looking forward to the past to write for generations to come.
Mascha Gugganig
Technical University Munich, Munich, Germany