Elizabeth Heritage examines a new book on Aotearoa's past.
There is a strange uneasiness in being white: we can be comfortable only if we don't think too hard about our own racial identity or how we came to be in this land. As a Pākehā of English descent and tangata
tiriti, I want to address this silent avoidance at my centre. I'm looking to the literature of Aotearoa to help.
Jerningham is a new historical novel by Cristina Sanders (Pākehā of Norwegian descent). It is told from the perspective of the fictitious Arthur Lugg, a white Englishman who immigrates in 1839 to the settlement that would become Wellington. The other main character is Jerningham Wakefield, the real-life son of Edward Gibbon Wakefield, director of the infamously exploitative New Zealand Company. The main action of the novel takes place in the years following the signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi, culminating in the violent conflict at Wairau in 1843. There are some minor Māori characters but Jerningham is mostly concerned with the feelings and actions of white people.
As the narrator, Arthur functions as the lens through which we experience the historical world imagined by Sanders. Arthur starts out as a white supremacist in the most basic and literal sense: he straight-up believes that white people are better than brown people. It therefore follows that the enaction of colonisation is a good idea.
As the story progresses and he gets to see first-hand how the colonial sausage is made, Arthur becomes squeamish. Could colonialism be … bad?
"I couldn't imagine how I would feel if a foreign contingent arrived in the countryside in Somerset and spilled out endlessly over our hills, trampling over the graves of our forebears." Could it be that te ao Māori is already a complex civilisation, rich and thriving on its own terms, rather than a degraded form of white society in urgent need of rescue?
"The natives entwined all this physical activity of the earth into ancestral stories, earnestly explaining their chiefs' descent from physical objects, and I grew to understand this belief as a leap of faith, in much the same way we believed our Queen was appointed by God."