DNF at 70 pages.

There is indeed something that can be said about a unique writing style. It has the potential to draw readers in and offer a fresh perspective. However, in this particular case, unfortunately, it had the opposite effect on me. The unique style made it extremely hard for me to read.

It felt as if I was constantly struggling to understand the flow and the intended meaning.

Moreover, the plot itself didn't have enough grip or excitement to make me want to push through the difficulties caused by the writing style.

I found myself losing interest and ultimately deciding to put the book down at page 70.

Perhaps if the plot had been more engaging from the start, I might have been more willing to persevere with the challenging writing. But as it was, it just didn't manage to hold my attention.

I read this for Intro English during my freshman year and recently re-read it.

The book revolves around three main characters, and as the story progresses, it is best to let the reader determine their relationship with one another.

Hulme is a self-identified bicultural writer, which makes The Bone People a bicultural text, integrating both Maori and Pakeha influences within the New Zealand setting. According to my professor, one of Hulme's high school teachers, in response to her writing, told her that her writing was "far too rich" and that she used "far too many adjectives," which the teacher claimed was Hulme's "Maori side...coming out."

Due to her bicultural identity, the conventions of the archetypal genre are transformed. Hulme's abundant descriptions enhance the writing. This poetic quality is unusual but represents a cultural trait of the Maori language. Although this makes the book dense and often confusing, it creates an overall pleasing effect.

Hulme is not only challenging the traditional form of the novel but also helping to modify the way her culture approaches literature in general.

When I recommended this book to my book club several years ago, an interesting reaction occurred. The only other woman who had read it glared at me with intensity and said, "if we pick this book, I am going to be REALLY mad at you." As a result, I quickly withdrew the suggestion. This particular book, which is a winner of the Man Booker prize, is indeed a painful read. It has the power to force the reader to deeply consider the complexity of human nature and behavior. It makes us realize just how thin the line can be between love and abuse. The story is set in the beautiful country of New Zealand and revolves around three wounded yet likeable characters - a man, a woman, and a child. Their lives intertwine in ways that are both heart-wrenching and thought-provoking.

There is a truly disturbing case of a death row inmate in Nevada. For months, he brutally abused and tortured his little stepdaughter. Finally, he dealt her a fatal blow and left her to die. The poor child, in her final moments, crawled into his lap and expired in his arms.

What really struck me was the part where she sought comfort from the very man who had abused her. This doesn't imply that she felt his love despite the cruelty. It simply shows that helpless beings like children, the elderly, and dogs often desperately seek the love and approval of their abusers, unable to help themselves.

I first came across this book while traveling in New Zealand. A local newspaper article about the wiliness of a local Maori tribe and a popular mountain made a reference to it, though not a very favorable one.

Nevertheless, I kept an open mind and was genuinely curious. However, the book turned out to be a jumbled mess to read. It is narrated in both third and first person, with the viewpoint switching mid-paragraph between a wacky artist named Kerewin, a drunk named Joe, and Joe's son Simon. It can be extremely confusing to determine who is saying or thinking what.

Simon is not an easy child to love. Joe informally adopted him after Simon survived a shipwreck. But shortly afterwards, Joe's wife and baby son died, and he became an alcoholic. He beats Simon so severely that the little boy is covered in scars. So perhaps, just perhaps, Simon's behavior is worsened due to the home abuse he endures.

Kerewin decides not to report the abuse, believing that Joe and Simon truly love each other, but she does keep an eye on them. When Joe rages at Simon, she beats him and assumes he's learned his lesson. She has no hesitation in allowing the child to smoke or getting him drunk to treat minor injuries, as they don't trust hospitals run by Caucasians.

But things take a turn for the worse. Joe's next rage, with Kerewin's knowledge, nearly kills Simon. The child, who is already mute, is now rendered deaf and put into a coma. The heartbreaking part is that Simon was actually reaching out for help. He had found a dead body, but being mute, he couldn't tell anyone. Kerewin ignored him and let Joe have his way, fully aware of how dangerous Joe was.

So, what was the point of this book? Was it about the Maori way or something that makes the love between father and son more powerful? Or were Joe and Simon meant to be stand-ins for the struggles between NZ Maoris and NZ Europeans? Honestly, I wouldn't have known Kerewin or Joe were Maori if it weren't for the occasional Maori language. There is nothing about tribal family customs or childrearing that distinguishes it from any other story of child abuse.

In graduate school, I took a special topics course on traditional child-rearing practices in Native and indigenous tribes. There was a consistent pattern of children being respected for their abilities rather than being coddled and hindered as in Western societies. A book exploring this would have been interesting, but that's not what this book is. What an awful read.

(Kerewin is clearly a stand-in for Keri Hulme. Seriously, her author bio matches Kerewin exactly. Keri Hulme is truly a piece of work and this book, which tries to justify deadly child abuse, is a disgrace.)

Incredibly challenging but also an accomplishment

This statement perfectly encapsulates the essence of many endeavors in life. When we take on something that is incredibly challenging, it often feels like an uphill battle. There are countless obstacles to overcome, and the path forward may seem unclear. However, it is precisely through these challenges that we grow and learn.

When we finally succeed in achieving our goal, despite the difficulties, it is an accomplishment that brings a sense of pride and satisfaction. We look back on all the hard work and perseverance and realize how much we have accomplished. It is a reminder that we are capable of more than we think, and that with determination and effort, we can overcome even the most difficult of challenges.

In conclusion, while incredibly challenging tasks may seem daunting at first, they are also an opportunity for growth and a chance to achieve something truly remarkable. So, the next time you are faced with a challenge, embrace it with open arms and know that on the other side lies an accomplishment waiting to be celebrated.

\\n  Art and family by blood; home and family by love…regaining any one was worth this fiery journey to the heart of the sun.\\n


Keri Hulme’s The Bone People is a captivating and intricate tale. Set in her native New Zealand, it delves deep into the themes of love, isolation, and the quest for identity. The novel's complexity lies in its exploration of opposites and their interactions within a person's life. For instance, how can love and cruelty coexist within the same individual and be directed towards the same object? How does one distinguish between good and bad and determine if one can ever outweigh the other? And how does a person strike a balance between their need for solitude and their longing for companionship and understanding?

The story revolves around three main characters. Kerewin Holmes, a half-Maori woman, has chosen an isolated life, yet she despairs over the family she has lost. Joe, a Maori man, mourns the loss of his wife and natural child to the flu and struggles as a single parent to his foster son, Simon, a white child with disabilities and unbridled rage. Simon, unable to speak due to psychosomatic reasons related to the loss of his parents, rebels against not being understood or acknowledged. Despite their differences, the three form an unlikely bond, perhaps due to their shared loneliness and unfathomable similarities.

At the core of the novel is a dichotomy that I found challenging to grapple with - the idea that a person could love someone deeply and still hurt them repeatedly and severely. To fully appreciate the book, one must accept this contradiction as a path to self-discovery and redemption. While this may seem难以置信 in the real world, within the context of the story, it becomes more understandable. Another significant aspect of the book is the Maori culture and the search for identity among the people of New Zealand. Both Joe and Kerewin are part of the Maori culture and are trying to navigate the Pakeha (European) culture that has overshadowed it. Their connection to their Maori roots gives them strength, and their hope for salvation lies in reconnecting with that lost part of themselves. The representation of the pure Maori, the mixed Maori/Pakeha, and the pure Pakeha in the three main characters is no coincidence, as their struggle is to learn how to live together in harmony.

This is not an easy read. The writing style is unique, incorporating various voices, prose, poetry, and a stream of consciousness. At times, the story can feel bogged down and repetitive, and it could have benefited from some editorial trimming. However, it is a remarkable work that leaves a lasting impression on the reader. Kudos to Keri Hulme for creating such a profound and thought-provoking novel. It is definitely worth the time and effort to read!

I out myself as a philistine, I guess. With my dislike of this painfully literary book, I read it only because I was in New Zealand and thought I ought to read a famous NZ author. Once I got past the aggressively defensive introduction, which seemed to be shouting "Idiosyncratic Author is idiosyncratic! I can dizzily swap first-person POV and use my own grammar and make up my own words because I am Artistic!" and the Mary-Sueish tinge of the central character being named after the author (which made me want to *headdesk*), I found this book rather confusing.

Parts of it were interesting, while other parts were dull. And then, hey, there was a surprise woo-woo at the end. I kind of wish it had been introduced sooner, because it was cool and actually went somewhere. I didn't particularly like any of the characters, but I suppose that was part of the point. Maybe I'm just not the right audience for this kind of book. It's possible that those who are more into literary experimentation and complex character studies would appreciate it more. But for me, it was a bit of a struggle to get through.

Okay, so I'm nearly done with this book, and it has been extremely arduous to complete.

I'm not certain if it's just that I'm not understanding it or something else entirely, but to be completely honest, I truly don't think I liked this book in the slightest.

I despised the characters, and that, in turn, made the plot incredibly dull for me.

I have absolutely no sympathy for Joe because he's such an asshole.

Kerewin is irritating and narcissistic.

Simon is even more messed up because he has to deal with these two.

I just can't fathom why there is so much love for this book.

I'll award it 2 stars because it sort of managed to hold my interest until the end, but boy, it has been a form of torture.

Maybe I'm missing something crucial, but as of now, I'm just glad to be almost finished with it.

Perhaps upon further reflection or discussion with others, my perspective might change, but for now, this is my honest assessment.

A Sad Story about a Dysfunctional Group of People in New Zealand

This story is about a dysfunctional group of people in New Zealand. It won both the Booker Prize and the Pegasus Prize for Literature. I can understand why it won these awards, but the fact that "obtuse" and "confused" seem to always accompany such winners raises questions in my mind.

My Take

There are two things I loved about this story. Firstly, the incorporation of Maori culture added depth and authenticity. Secondly, the general idea of the storyline was interesting. However, I hated the cruel side of Joe. It was frustrating that everyone just ignored it. I also disliked half of Hulme's style. The thought speech of the seven-year-old Simon was too adult, making it confusing to know who was speaking or thinking. I wanted to understand the characters and their motives, but in "The Bone People", I felt like I was underwater, being tossed around by the waves.

It takes a long time to learn what makes even a small part of Simon tick. The story is told from a child's perspective on how to create a traditional family, which makes me feel even more sorry for him. Hulme does manage to pull you in and make you care about these three people, despite their many flaws. But then there's that one particular resolution at the end, and it just ends with a discovery. We never learn more about their background or where they came from.

This was a village of people who were close in some ways, but also distant in others. For all its depth, Hulme skimmed the surface, providing just enough detail to make me want to know more. And until the end, I wasn't interested in reading more of this story. But now, I do.

I don't understand why the side story about Joe was added at the end. I thought it might be about his grandfather or great-grandfather, but then I suspected it wasn't. It didn't seem to have any purpose other than to provide more information about Maori culture.

In some ways, this is a terrifying story. It makes me rant about the need for parents to be licensed. But as the system learns, there's always more to any story.

The Story

It's a break-in at her tower that brings Kerewin into Simon and Joe's lives. She can decide if this encounter is good or bad, but it's mostly both. It may be enough to bring all three of them to life.

The Characters

Kerewin Holmes has won the lottery and lost her family. She's also lost her ability to paint. But she does have an amazing house and a self-subsisting lifestyle. Simon is a complex little boy who is hurting in many ways. He's loved and beaten at the same time. Joe Gillayley has taken on the care of Simon after his caregivers were lost in a shipwreck. He recently lost his wife and young son, and Simon is now his new family. But he has a wide range of emotions towards him.

There are also other characters in the story, such as Marama and Wherahiko, Tainui, Luce, Ben, Piri, Timote, Price, Dr. Elizabeth Lachlan, Binny Daniels, Tiaki Mira, and Dr. Sinclair Fayden. Each of them adds to the complexity of the story.

The Cover

The cover is gorgeous, all black and white with a Maori graphic. I think the central character has an opinion about Joe. I also think the title refers to events at the end of the book and Maori myths about "The Bone People". Overall, this is a thought-provoking and engaging story that will stay with you long after you've finished reading it.

One of my all-time favourites is this particular book. It's a quirky one, truly representative of New Zealand. They have a knack for producing some rather unusual books and films here. The national psyche of this place seems to be bleaker and darker than what might initially meet the observer's eye. At least, that's the impression I get when I look at the creative output with my perhaps jaded perspective.

If you want to understand what I mean, take a look at movies like 'The Piano', 'Once Were Warriors', and 'Whale Rider'. The last one, 'Whale Rider', is not so much dark as it is steeped in a sense of 'otherness'. This novel, in particular, speaks volumes to me about the New Zealand psyche. It is so vivid and clear that I consider it archetypal of this country, this nation. It encapsulates the unique spirit and essence that is New Zealand,展现出 a side that might not be immediately obvious but is deeply ingrained and fascinating.

Idk if you’ve noticed… but I’ve been reading this pukapuka on and off for over a year now.

It had reached a stage where I’d developed an attachment to the physical mea. It had transformed into a source of comfort. However, it wasn’t all that convenient as my edition is a rather large book to be lugging around for so many months without actually reading. It even accompanied me to Japan.

Heoi anō, recently (I was still stuck around the halfway point) I decided I would finish it, almost as a means to signify moving to a new chapter of my life.

Auē, kātahi anō kua oti tēnei e au! I already have the urge to read it again. This won’t appeal to everyone, but I discovered it to be a beautiful, and at times haunting, story about whanaungatanga and human connection/disconnection. It delved deep into the relationships between people, showing both the joys and the sorrows. The characters were so vividly portrayed that I felt as if I knew them personally. The story had its twists and turns, keeping me on the edge of my seat throughout. It made me reflect on my own life and the importance of human connection. Overall, it was a truly remarkable reading experience that I will cherish for a long time.

A rare mix of characters and languages and emotions indeed. It is truly gripping. Kerewin is one of my all-time favorite characters. She embodies everything I am and so much more. The talent, the energy, and the drive she possesses are simply beautiful.

However, I can't forgive Joe. I just can't. I don't see any justification for his violence. Is this how males are? Is this how their logic works? It has no place in society, regardless of their excuses, reasoning, and past horrific experiences. What he did to Simon was unforgivable, and the way the book kept pushing them together was unbearable. No one should endure that much torture and shoulder all the blame themselves.

Moving on, the story builds and builds, and then comes the ending. It is hardly satisfying, especially considering all the hinting and foreshadowing. It was all too easy, really. A happy family reunion after all that? Unlikely.

The flow of words was nice, I have to admit. The Maori language has a certain cadence that makes its sprinkling throughout the text tolerable, almost pleasant, despite my lack of understanding. So, I would rate this book higher than a four, but not a five. I don't agree with all of it, but I can't deny its unique beauty.