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Dub poets such as Jean Binta Breeze would carry on the process of legitimising nation language by writing it down (Morris 1988: 29). Cooper (1995: 68) notes how in this print version of the performance 'Dubbed out', the spacing of the lines jerking to a halt enacts the beating down of sense and lyricism. When the fluidity of word moving is released from mechanical rigidity of the beat and fixity of page, poetry becomes verbal dance. Through the commercial success of performers such as Mikey Smith, Benjamin Zepphaniah or Mutabaruka the once historically devalued Caribbean popular culture has become part of multicultural Britain. As the message of protest went out from Kingston and London around the world, Mutabaruka derided the paradoxical image of the revolutionary poet as media star entertaining the masses.
Common to most post-colonial writers is the need to write from the inside out in order to counter the perspectives offered in earlier literature written primarily by Europeans as outsiders looking in. This raises some crucial questions about point of view and whether in fact some genres and techniques of narration are better suited to the task of writing from the inside out. Point of view is also linked to the question of authenticity, a major concern of indigenous writers. In his controversial first novel Once
Were Warriors (1990), part-Maori author Alan Duff presents his characters largely from within by narrating from the vantage point of members of the Heke family, who live in a low-income state housing project called Pine Block. Like the Hekes, most of the residents of Pine Block are Maori or part-Maori, but the housing estate is cheek by jowl with the houses of more affluent white middle-class New Zealanders. From the outset the novel focuses on the disparities between the residents of Pine Block and their Pakeha (New Zealanders of European origin) neighbours, in particular, the Tramberts, whose house can be seen from the back kitchen window of the Heke's house.
When the story begins, Beth Heke is looking at the two-storey Trambert house surrounded by large trees and pasture land and thinking to herself. The worlds of Them (the Pakeha/White) and Us (Maori/Black) are at once juxtaposed.
Bastard, she'd think, looking out her back kitchen window. Lucky white bastard, at that glimpse of two-storey house through its surround of big old trees and its oh so secure greater surround of rolling green pasture-land, while she - Clicking her tongue, Oh to hell with him. Or good luck to him, if she wasn't in too bad a mood.
Good luck to you, white man for being born into your sweet world,
And bad luck to you, Beth Heke (who used to be a Ransfield but not that
Life was so much better then), for being married to an arsehole. And yet
I love him. just can't help myself. I love the black, fist-happy bastard. And
She'd light another smoke, and always went ahh in her mind and some
Times aloud because she liked that first hit against the back of her throat,
And she'd squint through the drifts. And wonder. (OWW, p. 7)
Since these are the opening lines of the novel, they are crucial in orienting the reader. While at first glance, they can be read as narration in the third person, the shifting deixis in tense and pronouns, mark changes in perspective, indicating tension in identities and allegiances, e. g. the second person yuu addressed to her white neighbour and the jou to herself reflecting on her own life. Although Beth clearly belongs to the Maori world by birth and marriage (and her residence in Pine Block), at times she gazes as an outsider on both the Maori and Pakeha worlds.
One narrative feature of Duff's prose which contributes to the difficulty of distinguishing the narrator's voice from those of his characters is the use of colloquial and at times non-Standard English, as both the language of narration and of the characters' reported speech and thought. The characters' subjectivities pervade the surrounding authorial report. It becomes difficult to say whether the characters' idiom is tinged with the narrator's or whether the narrator's prose is 'contaminated' by its proximity to the thinking characters. The similarity of the language of narration, interior monologue and narrated monologue fuses, the narrative into one.
The only Pakeha characters in the novel are the Tramberts, whose function is merely to symbolise, even if only stereotypically, the Pakeha world and its privileges vis-d-vis the Maori one. The story is not about them and hence we do not see them from the inside out, except on one fleeting occasion when Gordon Trambert makes an appearance at the funeral of Beth's teenage daughter, Grace. From her perch in a tree from where she can see into the Trambert dining room, Grace, the oldest Heke daughter, who later hangs herself from that tree, becomes the focalising agent for reporting what goes on at the dinner party (OWW, p. 117). The reader never really hears what the Tramberts have to say or think about anything. The choice of the more distant deictic form that emphasizes the distance between Grace and the Tramberts.
Nibble-nibble-nibble, then down'd go their knife and fork or whatever it was they were eating the course with, V-ed points in on the plate, dabdab with that bit of cloth at their dainty mouths, picking up that glass of wine, which'd started off as white and then the mother and her husband's come along and filled more glasses with red wine; it had to be red wine unless it was something else a Pine Block girl didn't know about just as she didn't know about red or white wine, only that she'd figured it from TV. Each course taking an age to eat.
For hours this show went on: each person seeming to take a turn at talking (talking) how they do, holding court as they'd say in English at school, then someone replying or responding or saying anything at all, just resuming their eating, their wine sipping, their dabdabs at their mouths with serviettes, which a Pine Block girl knows're called sumpthin else except she doesn't know precisely what.
Again, it is not entirely clear who thinks or reports what. Duff draws our attention to the way in which white New Zealanders of the Tramberts' social status would likely have pronounced talking^ exaggerating its vowel. Dining in the midst of such polite conversation and other middle-class trappings such as wine and table napkins is not part of Grace's life, as indicated linguistically in the use of non-U serviette as well as Grace's ignorance of the U alternative. If it is the author who is speaking here, then he declines to reveal that he knows that the Tramberts would probably use the word table napkin (see 1.2).
Duffs technique is highly reminiscent of that of Virginia Woolf, as described by Auerbach (1968: 536), who characterised its essence as 'a multipersonal representation of consciousness', shifting between the consciousness of different characters who represent multiple points of view rather than narrating the novel from a single point of view, the consciousness of one character.
By contrast, part-Samoan author Albert Wendt wrote his first and a number of subsequent novels primarily in Standard English in the conventional third person. His first novel, Sons for the Return Home (1973), can be read metaphorically as a classic case of alienation. The namelessness of the characters is indicative of their lack of identity. The intellectual son of Samoan parents who migrate to New Zealand in search of work has been educated in Pakeha institutions, and thus is caught between two worlds, at home in neither. Although he is Samoan by birth, he finds he cannot live in Samoa, nor can he accept the Samoan world view. He resists assimilation to it and remains outside of it, on the margins. He is neither inside nor outside. In New Zealand too he is the outside, the Other, although there he is forced to be on the margins by the racism of a white society that prevents his full assimilation at the same time that it demands it. Indeed, they must prevent it in order to maintain the boundaries between the centre and the Other. Keeping the Other out is a means of self-preservation. After his parents have been called to the school principal's office to be congratulated on their youngest son's receipt of the School Certificate, the boy reminds them (SRH, p. 13): 'We've been here for nearly thirteen years and they still treat us as strangers. As inferiors... I speak their language, their peculiar brand of English, as well as any of them. They have to pretend I'm their equal, that I'm a New Zealander, because they can't do anything else.'
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