Kisses in the Nederends
Epeli Hau’ofa’s novel Kisses in the Nederends satirizes Polynesian societies, commenting on almost every aspect from the daily routine of the islanders to the political corruption of the elite. The fictional Tipota is a stand-in for Tonga or Fiji, both places Hau’ofa lived in for many years. His no-holds-barred style reserves a piece of loving criticism for all the people of Tipota, placing a special emphasis on the stagnation of the island, and the peoples’ inability to escape the middle-point between traditional and modern living.
Tipota is juxtaposed somewhere between their past and the contemporary, globalized world of the so-called “First World.” This is especially evident in the medical crisis Oilei finds himself in. When he first experiences his anal pain he goes to a “Western” doctor, who gives him painkillers that, “Were long out of date but were the only ones available in the country” (Hau’ofa 7). Upon returning home he unwillingly sees another healer, Marama. Her practices are much more traditional. Her explanation of Oilei’s condition is quite inaccurate, and not particularly helpful in soothing his derriere. This division between modernizing forces and the remaining culture that pre-existed them is stark. Both healers appear in the first chapter, within a page of each other.
Of course, as we’ve seen continually throughout our readings, tradition is not necessarily bad. In fact, the myth of tradition as resistance to progress is a staple of white supremacy and colonialist ideology. There is a folklore-ish nature to the tradition of Marama, and there is power in folklore, albeit not in the medical field. Marama says, “Lecturer fart can seep into the scrotum socket and blow it up to the size of a soccer ball. That’s what most of our important people have. VIPs sit around and do no physical work, not because of their eminence as is generally assumed, but because they carry enormous soccer balls” (12). Hau’ofa may be satirizing the imprecision of traditional healers, but he is also poking fun at the elite through this same lens. The whole novel, simply in its subject matter, derides snobbery, especially towards the body. It’s also worth noting that the elite represent a modernizing force in large part.
Nevertheless, Hau’ofa, like the other writers we’ve read so far, reserves more criticism for his own culture than that of others. After all, how can you solve the issues surrounding globalization without solving the issues in your own community. He focuses his commentary on the aforementioned trap between the past and the modern. In Kisses in the Nederends, this trap is often reinforced by language and the islanders own perception of themselves. Oilei refuses to tell the doctor the real reason his rear hurt, instead claiming it was a burn from hot water (6). Oilei’s discomfort towards the failings of his own body limit his potential for healing. Similarly, an inability to talk about social issues allows for their festering.
In closing, I’d like to bring up one quote from another healer, a spiritual healer, Babu. He
Says, “All problems in the world are connected, however disparate they may appear… The problem with your anus is rooted in the inherent human tendency to isolate and then divide manifestations of the One Infinite, in this instance, the human body, into different parts and assign them different values” (99). Hau’ofa is most certainly proposing that the physical body should be normalized, but, in doing so, were also able to normalize all uncomfortable aspects of ourselves. The anus is meaningful as an anus, but it is also meaningful in its representation of all that we avoid discussing. By kissing the “nether end,” we can solve all types of problems within our own communities. The Tipotan homeland is fundamentally connected to ours in that we both share fears of certain discussions and we both require healing. The Tipotans, unlike us, however, also require healing from the processes of globalization and modernization and their negative effects on the peoples of the Pacific. Kisses in the Nederends presents a tender form of satire, which heals as much as it attacks.
Tipota is juxtaposed somewhere between their past and the contemporary, globalized world of the so-called “First World.” This is especially evident in the medical crisis Oilei finds himself in. When he first experiences his anal pain he goes to a “Western” doctor, who gives him painkillers that, “Were long out of date but were the only ones available in the country” (Hau’ofa 7). Upon returning home he unwillingly sees another healer, Marama. Her practices are much more traditional. Her explanation of Oilei’s condition is quite inaccurate, and not particularly helpful in soothing his derriere. This division between modernizing forces and the remaining culture that pre-existed them is stark. Both healers appear in the first chapter, within a page of each other.
Of course, as we’ve seen continually throughout our readings, tradition is not necessarily bad. In fact, the myth of tradition as resistance to progress is a staple of white supremacy and colonialist ideology. There is a folklore-ish nature to the tradition of Marama, and there is power in folklore, albeit not in the medical field. Marama says, “Lecturer fart can seep into the scrotum socket and blow it up to the size of a soccer ball. That’s what most of our important people have. VIPs sit around and do no physical work, not because of their eminence as is generally assumed, but because they carry enormous soccer balls” (12). Hau’ofa may be satirizing the imprecision of traditional healers, but he is also poking fun at the elite through this same lens. The whole novel, simply in its subject matter, derides snobbery, especially towards the body. It’s also worth noting that the elite represent a modernizing force in large part.
Nevertheless, Hau’ofa, like the other writers we’ve read so far, reserves more criticism for his own culture than that of others. After all, how can you solve the issues surrounding globalization without solving the issues in your own community. He focuses his commentary on the aforementioned trap between the past and the modern. In Kisses in the Nederends, this trap is often reinforced by language and the islanders own perception of themselves. Oilei refuses to tell the doctor the real reason his rear hurt, instead claiming it was a burn from hot water (6). Oilei’s discomfort towards the failings of his own body limit his potential for healing. Similarly, an inability to talk about social issues allows for their festering.
In closing, I’d like to bring up one quote from another healer, a spiritual healer, Babu. He
Says, “All problems in the world are connected, however disparate they may appear… The problem with your anus is rooted in the inherent human tendency to isolate and then divide manifestations of the One Infinite, in this instance, the human body, into different parts and assign them different values” (99). Hau’ofa is most certainly proposing that the physical body should be normalized, but, in doing so, were also able to normalize all uncomfortable aspects of ourselves. The anus is meaningful as an anus, but it is also meaningful in its representation of all that we avoid discussing. By kissing the “nether end,” we can solve all types of problems within our own communities. The Tipotan homeland is fundamentally connected to ours in that we both share fears of certain discussions and we both require healing. The Tipotans, unlike us, however, also require healing from the processes of globalization and modernization and their negative effects on the peoples of the Pacific. Kisses in the Nederends presents a tender form of satire, which heals as much as it attacks.
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