Raumoa Ormsby: Dreams Never Walked

Reviewed by MICHAEL LARSEN*

The thing that disturbed a lot of people about Once Were Warriors was not so much the ugliness and despair it painted - although they were upsetting enough - but the fact that these things were going on just down the motorway.

Raumoa Ormsby's portrayal of rural Maori is nowhere near as brutal as Duff's, but its "in our own backyard" tone is certainly unsettling. Ormsby makes it very clear that those little towns that most of us flick through on the way to somewhere bigger and better hold an entire world of which most of us have no understanding.

For myself - white, middle class and urban - that is one of the reasons I enjoyed this book. It opened my eyes, in a much more gentle, yet no less convincing, way than Duff to the inner sanctum of Maoridom.

Ormsby writes with obvious knowledge and a profound respect for the traditions and laws of a life centred around a marae, and he speaks with heartfelt warmth for the family bonds and understandings these small communities foster.

Unfortunately vile, unspeakable acts committed by dispossessed Maori continue to violate this community on the outskirts of Napier, and it is the reaction of the community and their idea of justice that form the backbone of the narrative. It is told through the eyes of Poi, a handsome, smart 18-year-old who respects the Maori tradition but detests the lack of respect of Pakeha for his family's ways (be it from police, nursing staff or racist restaurateurs). Poi's view of the world is as confused as any late teen. His confusion is compounded by his being the product of a savage rape, and his yearning to know his father's moral character spikes the narrative frequently.

It is occasionally clumsy in its prose, with too many exclamation marks giving the book a naivety that irritates, but the characters are generally well thought-out, and the dialogue sounds like an overheard conversation, a testament to Ormsby's keen ear.

The direction of the story is a little lumpy and we get thrown from life in the pa to something completely different on a number of occasions for no apparent reason. However, this doesn't detract too much from what is a very good book.

Ormsby doesn't have Ihimaera's lyrical turn of phrase, and avoids, on the whole, Duff's violence, but he has a voice of his own. Once tied to a few editing skills, this could see him become quite a force. As a first novel, this still stands up as a must-read tale that describes what you don't read in the papers. It has warmth and humour amid the brutality, and you leave a better person than when you entered this tight-knit world.

Random House, (Paperback $26.95)

* Michael Larsen is an Auckland freelance writer.