The Bone People: A Novel (Penguin Ink)

Bone People is a deeply moving, difficult and disturbing book. Keri Hulme manages to find a langauge which does justice to it's subject matter, the New Zealand landscape and Maori culture from which it draws inspiration. Anyone expecting a literal politically correct narative is likely to be disapointed. However if your willing to immerse yourself in it, it is an immensely rewarding read.
Wouldn't normally comment on other reviews, but i couldn't let this one go.
Anyone who flicks through all these reviews and gets to 'A reader from the west coast' shouldn't be mislead by there attacks on the book, especially in respect to it's winning the Booker prize.
Far from being the decision of one rich man, and as meaningful as any of us setting up our own literary prize, the Booker is the most significant literary prize awarded in English speaking countries, excluding the USA. It is easily the equivalent of the Pulitzer, and even a casual glance at the writers and titles that have won the award over the years would indicate it's standing in the literary world.

I bought this book while visiting New Zealand on the recommendation of a friend who had never actually read any of Hulme's work.
Keri Hulme possesses a unique, almost addictive writing style. It took a few pages for me to get into her rhythm, but once she had me in her spell I simply could not put the book down. An exquisite blend of prehistoric myth and modern angst.

Although the rhythm of Hulme's prose can be difficult at first, it is worth charging through to get at the center of this beautifully wrought novel. Kerewin, Joe and Sim are damaged people, but somehow they find a sad sort of love between them. I was moved by her willingness to leave things unsaid and to let her characters develop in sometimes monsterous ways.

While the first two-thirds of this book provide an interesting glimpse of some of the darker elements of interpersonal relationships, the reader is ultimately cheated out of a legitimate (and earned) tragedy about three individuals caught in a destructive cycle by not one, not two, but three deux-ex-machinas. Ms. Hulme appears to fall victim to one of the more unfortunate tendencies of writers across mediums: Falling in love with her own characters. She seems to transfer her love of these characters to an assumption that we, as readers, similarly love them and as a result will welcome three deux-ex-machinas to redeem each of them. Yet, it is this reviewer's opinion that these characters are far less sympathetic than Ms. Hulme believes and, hence, all three deux-ex-machinas are unearned and, as a result, highly problematic. Allow me to elaborate on the character/deux-ex-machina problem one at a time. Before advancing, let me preface this discussion by raising that, as the ultimate ends of these characters will be addressed, please do not read this if you do not want the end of the book spoiled.

Let's begin with the main protagonists, Kerewin, a burned out artist who is isolated from her family. The potential likability of a character such as this comes from showing what an effective artist she was and how the decline of her art and familial relations impacted her psyche. Unfortunately, we are never presented with any clear sense of her artistic capabilities; in fact, the language that she uses does not come across artistic as much as it does saturated by random images, facts, and puns. Further, the only evidence of artistic ability is the money(?) and vague praise she receives from her art as well as her occasional ability to strum a guitar. Without substantiation of her artistic prowess or the source of the familial problems (which, based on her character, one could easily conclude is her doing) you have a stubborn and unlikeable alcoholic who seems to sow the seeds of her own destruction; hence, not appearing to deserve any sympathy. From this rises the first deux-ex-machina that is unearned: her miraculous recovery from cancer. Ultimately, we are apparently expected to sympathize with a character who stubbornly ignores the presence of cancer, refuses to get help, and continues to fuel herself with drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes. Yet, why should we welcome her recovery when everything she has done has been out of a stubborn refusal to accept help from anybody or to even help herself? She has done nothing to deserve this redemption, has not gained any substantial awareness, and remains the same stubborn and unlikeable character the reader encountered at the start of the book. As a result, the deux-ex-machina that ultimately redeems her is completely unsatisfying.

The second character, Joe, has been much talked about due to the unfathomable level of physical abuse he levies on his adopted son Simon. While it is hard to argue that such a character could ever be likable, it is this reviewer's suspicion that Ms. Hulme thinks the reader will forgive him due to his troubled background and his redemptive act...hence the second deux-ex-machina: His miraculous deliverance from death in the wild by an old mystic hermit. In fact, to say that Joe commits a redemptive act is largely a misnomer as he takes care of an old mystic for a few hours, sits watch over a pool for a few weeks that is apparently "the heart of New Zealand", and is physically rehabilitated/inherits a huge amount of land for his efforts. In other words, he is compensated for the service he renders and largely appears to be a person who was at the right place at the right time rather than a person that deserves redemption. Restated, why should we want an alcoholic child-abuser lost in the wild to be saved; especially when, other than in the most peripheral sense, he seems to have developed no further understanding about the ills of child-abuse beyond the very peripheral guilt that has always been present. Instead, Joe's rehabilitation appears to come from a reconnection with the heart of New Zealand, but such esoteric redemption does not constitute character rehabilitation. Hence, our desire to see this man saved by a miracle is just simply not present. Further, as a vicious child-abuser who has not actually done anything tangible to redeem this unforgiveable act, this deux-ex-machina is not only problematic but could also be interpreted as a blanket absolution for those who have committed such acts.

Finally we come to Simon, the mute adopted son. This is a bit more complicated (and likely touchy), but this reviewer would argue that his character's unlikeability is rooted in an underdeveloped past coupled with a lack of motivation for his acts of extreme self-destruction. While it could be argued that these acts are an outlet for frustration associated with the abuse he suffers, at no point is this articulated. Instead, these acts go completely unexplained and, unless the reader takes the leap to infer they are unconsciously rooted in the abuse suffered, they come across as largely unsympathetic. This is particularly evident through Simon's consistent willingness to act out against the people who are trying to help him. In other words, it is hard to sympathize with a character whose roots of self-destruction have not been substantiated. While Ms. Hulme frequently enters Simon's head, the reader is presented with stream-of-conscious reflections on acts occurring, rather than any insight into his background or motivation. Thus, the third deux-ex-machina is equally frustrating. In this case, Simon is stuck in a hospital, hopeless, and surrounded by uncaring doctors...yet, one rebel doctor comes out of nowhere to connect with Simon and help his progression. Now this deux-ex-machina is problematic because we still are unaware if Simon can talk, but won't, and, alternatively, we are never given a reason why he doesn't clearly write out his desire for Joe/Kerewin. Instead, Simon continues to act in a way that is self-defeating by: (1) acting out against the doctors who are trying to save him from incapacitating abuse and (2) refusing to clearly articulate himself when a paper, pencil, and listening ear are all present. Once again, we have a character who is redeemed despite continuing to act in the exact same self-defeating manner he did at the beginning of the story; hence, also rendering this deux-ex-machina unfulfilling.

It is certainly worth raising that perhaps all three of these deux-ex-machinas could be connected to Maori folklore and traditions. While this reviewer is not familiar enough with these traditions to assess the accuracy of such an argument, this does not change the reality that these deux-ex-machinas are unearned. It might be that the old hermit who saves Joe or the shadowy figure that takes away Kerewin's cancer can be connected to folklore, but this does not justify the deliverance they provide. Similarly, it could be argued that the end implies that all three characters are dead but, in this case, the happiness and togetherness they have found in the afterlife still appears to intimate redemption. As a result, we are left with characters that have their bad behavior reinforced without any lessons learned on their part (except in the most vaguely esoteric sense). As mentioned above, if Ms. Hulme ended the book approximately 100 pages earlier when all the characters were at their lowest ebb, this would have made for an excellent tragedy; instead, her (potentially misplaced) love of the characters leads to an ending that is not only hollow, but also reinforces incredibly bad behavior (i.e. child abuse, getting a child drunk, ignoring cancer treatments, destroying the property of innocent people).

I think that Ms. Hulme thoroughly understands child abuse and through her writing has put us in touch with the essence of this horrific issue. We grow to love and care for each of the three main characters and gain more than a glimpse into their complex lives and behaviors. Her condemnation of child abuse surfaces in bringing about the demise of the three characters, all victims and perpetrators of their final destruction. Then I think Ms. Hulme gives us what we want, a happy ending. The novel becomes a magical fairytale in the final happy-ever-after reunion. Reality could never, ever, bring about this ending in real life. The disease is too deep and hope surfaces only in the form of what we would wish reality to be. None of the reviews support my belief that the three characters died and the ending was a necessary fairy tale to survive our journey into child abuse. This was truly an amazing book...hard to read in style at times, in content at times and overall hard to put down. I will probably read it again when I get over being rocked to my core.

This extraordinary psychological study and excursion into the deep and sometimes surreal recesses of New Zealands Maori culture, took Hulme ten years to write, and justifiably won the Booker.
Hulme invests the book with her own wholly original style and lexicon, and achieves an aura of deep, exotic mystery against a bleak yet engaging interpersonal narrative, while working both the maori and english languages in new and startling ways.
From New Zealand's rugged and inaccessible west coast, she crafts a multilayered fable about a location few people have ever been, and achieves a wholly unique time, place and sensibility.
A major work of art on many levels, it is fundamentally an experiential masterpiece, leaving you slightly melancholic but profoundly awed.

This whole book has a feeling of both isolation and the desire for the warmth of human companionship. Each of the very different characters are beautifully and realistically portrayed. They each grow and learn from being in each others presence, and they are all flawed, and very human. Moments in this book are very tough to take, but it is an excellent read, and one of the best modern novels. Definitely not for everybody though. And be prepared for emotional involvement.

I checked this book out from a college library in, oh, 1990 and stayed up all night reading it. Wrote some really bad poetry afterwards (I was a freshman, cut me some slack). I loved it. Got my mother to teach it to her students. It's one of my favorite books ever. I remember being worried at the time that people would be turned off by their perceptions of child abuse -- I loved that she never treated it simply or as if it were black-and-white. Nothing is. The language and the texture were fantastic (though not your standard tradition-of-the-novel fare, and all the better for it) and it reminded me of a mixture of novel and poetry.

A mesmerizing novel set in New Zealand, this novel packs the one-two punch of a compelling story and graceful language. The novel won a Booker Prize and a Pegasus Prize for Literature, and once you turn a few pages, you'll understand why.

Honestly, my favorite novel. I started it, called in sick to work and didn't go back until I had finished it. I just read Crime & Punishment this year and it came in at a close second. Keri's use of language (many languages) is so beautiful. I have always made up silly sense words when none appropriate seem to exist and I love Keri's word play (such as "...the eyesting of onionjuice...") The way that joy & tragedy are comingled without ever feeling cloying is fantastic. Thank you so much for your novel. It is one of my favorite gifts for newer friends.

If you cannot see yourself in Joe, then you cannot see yourself at all. In real life, I would be fatally attracted to the specialness of Kerewin, her extraordinary intellect, artistry and talent and I would be flayed to one stage of egodeath by any involvement because I could not see herself in me. So easy to see ourselves in the bloody pulp of a child's heart and soo impossible to see that we are the Abuser and the Abusee. How-ever we get flayed to our bones, it does not matter and it is only the resistance that gets us flayed anyway. Were we to allow the flesh to drop away by itself and our bones to be bleached it would not ever hurt. But as it is, Pain is our dearest friend. Enough and we give it up and burn in the heart of the sun, and bleach and become hollow. In the hollowness of our bones lies the mythical new earth that we all long for. . . the Party where all are family and there is a sister, brother, cousin, grandmother, beloved child, daughter, son, aunt, uncle, father, mother, grandfather, lover, dear friend in every room. We can only feebly and imperfectly describe it as we reach for it, but we know it and we know God-hope we are to live it. One by one we burn our bridges behind us, collectively, until last of all, it is the only place left to go: Aikido's heart of God.

I came to "The Bone People" serendipitously this new year through a book my daughter-in-law sent me from Maine for Christmas, "Adventure Divas", in which the author/TV producer describes a narrow success in setting up an interview with her diva template NZ author.

Thank you, Keri Hulme for the return of your gift to Life via us.

It seems inconceivable to me that this book was rejected by so many publishers. I adored it, I was stunned by it. It is epic and moving and haunting, and I think I am a better person for reading it. I loved it so much that I am writing an undergraduate dissertation on it!

Blech! It's as though Keri Hulme transcribed a hazily remembered dream/nightmare. So much was utterly foreign and the author was no help at all, so concerned with melding prose and poetry (I found flipping back and forth for translations maddening, as well). In the end I just guessed at what was going on and had to conclude that the story lines were meant to be unclear because no amount of re-reading helped.
The characters were not much better, mainly because they were such mysteries. An author's job is to illuminate and Keri Hulme used a guttering birthday candle for this midnight-dark book.

I've just finished "The Bone People" by Keri Hulme and cannot fathom all the five-star reviews it received. I can only believe that Hulme herself is sitting and writing them in her home far, far away from civilization.

This is a self-indulgent mess written over the course of twelve years! Unbelievable, self-indulgent characters that one cannot care about over the course of 445 pages of repetitive scenes.

Ultra violence toward a defenseless mute boy again and again until he's toothless, scared, welted, limping and cockeyed are forgiven by the author because the father has an unbelievable spiritual awakening in the wilderness of New Zealand. Good for daddy not so hot for what's left of son.

The holy man the father meets in the wilderness sounds like... all other holy men! - talking in parables and sounding like a watered-down version of King-James-Bible speak.

The writing at times is so convoluted that one is left to wonder if any resolution has occurred in this mess.

Am I the only reader that was frustrated by the number of Maori words that are NOT translated in the glossary. Key words and phrases in Maori are left to the reader to guess at!

Like many reviewers, I am working my way through all the Booker Prize winners with only five to go. This novel shakes my faith in the legitimacy of the award. It's as if the committee is saying, "Look, we need something from New Zealand."

I place it last among Booker Prize winners - yes, below even "Vernon God Little" and "How Late It Was, How Late."

while reading the story of kerewin, joe and simon, i became the "VIRTUAL" kerewin. her inexperience in being loved, her sensitivity to the young simon, her ability to understand his fear.. well she's my hero...also she's a great fisherwoman! (and i am too). i was found sobbing upon my daybed... my husband said, "what the hell's wrong with you now?" , and of course i couldn't explain...how could you explain it to a man. just a wonderful, emotionally moving book. thank you keri, (are you kerewin?)

I have just finished reading this book for the second time. I read it once when I was 17 and growing up in New Zealand. It battered me, embraced me, consumed me and then turned me inside out. It made me look around and take in things that I had never bothered to see. It created a benchmark for any literature I was ever going to go on to read. Second time around, I am 31. My reading eyes have matured and I feasted on this book with a fresh and new appetite. It is like I have just spent some magic time with a long lost friend. She had new things to tell me and new messages to convey. The language comes at you with long searching fingers. It is poetry and it is prose to the highest standard. Books I read now are held up against this one, and often they fall out of sight. If someone wants a new measure in their life, this is the book to read. I have read the reviews that criticise the ending, and that criticise the far-fetched and verbose dialogue attributed to characters who are supposed to be simple and not good with words. I have read about the frustration of getting tangled up in wayward sub-plots and having too many question marks left in the air. They are very small pin stains on a huge white sheet. This is one of those few books that really did something inside.

Ive read my share of literary award wining books, having almost made them compulsory reading. But this book was an almost unbearable slog, and a turgid read. Its style, if you could call it that, was annoying and self indulgent.

A uniquely told and emotionally engaging story about a man, a woman, and a child, all with very different voices and perspectives, that is narrated, in turn, in each of the three voices. While at first the changing first person narration can be challenging, as can the interspersed Maori dialect, in time both techniques are powerful in bringing the three characters and their stories to the reader. At times very dark (and sometimes violent), and at times truly beautiful, this is an amazing work of writing.

I found this novel deeply disturbing: are we really meant to sympathize with and care about the oh-so-sensitive alcoholic child-beating male protagonist simply because he is Maori and can blather on about ancestors and sacred spaces ? The destroyed child , progressively more destroyed and brutalized over the course of the novel, stands for what? It appears that the author wants us to approve of his pathetic attachment to his adoptive father....I didn't believe a word of the peculiarly happy ending. The author seems proud of her supposedly innovative style, which didn't seem particulalry innovative to me.

The one-line summary says it all

When i first tried to read this book i was put off by the quite strange beginning. This may be because i am a boring person who did not understand what Ms Hulme was trying to say.

I am not alone in my boringness though, (we Kiwis are a boring lot), i have spoken to many people who likewise had to struggle through the opening pages or like me gave up completely.

I always tell the quitters to try again, it's worth it. This really is a magic book.

Apparently, many people enjoyed this book, including the majority of my book group. But I agree with the 3 publishers who, Keri Hulme explains in the preface to the first edition, rejected this book. This is a difficult, unpolished, often incomprehensible book. Perhaps as fair warning, Hulme provides what she calls "an explanatory dream." What this dream explains never becomes any clearer than most of the book itself. I can't deny that there were parts of this book that I enjoyed, but there were parts of the books that were simply maddening. In the end, I decided that the negatives far outweighed the positives of this book.

This book is not a regural story and everything comes quite unexpected. It has some kind of magic and it's great how close it brings you the culture of New Zealand. I was often very touched how Simon's emotions were described and sometimes I thought I could really see his green eyes in front of me. After some time I developed some sort of hate towards Joe but when Kerewin started to understand him I did too. The character Kerewin is very very different than me but still I could identefy myself with her a little bit. I can not explain why. I would not call it the best book in the world but I would still recommend it. READ IT SLOWLY. It's full of magic.

If you enjoy writing that is thoroughly original, you will cherish this gem from Keri Hulme. It is the most powerful book I have ever read and is the book I most frequently recommend. Take your time to read and savor the language...it is pure poetry.

I first read The Bone People eight years ago, when I was 19 and starting my own life. It will always be my favorite book of any kind. It showed me that someone felt the world the same way as I. And I didn't even know that about myself until I was in the middle of this book. It made me want to become a writer, the only bad part being I always measure myself against this book and others like it.
It will make many other novels you would have liked in the past seem drab and convoluted.
Enjoy.

Yes, it is well written - beautifully so, painfully so. But in the final analysis, it is inexplicable. The end is too neat - too well wrapped. The main characters are alcoholics with no self-reflective redemption, and it is a small and beautiful child who suffers at their hands. No amount of lyrical writing can salvage that truth, and no quick and tidy ending can be believable in the face of such torment and human denial. This is a searingly honest book until the last few chapters where it seems as though the author regretted her observations of human capabilities/dis?abilities and found herself needing to resolve what she had witnessed with a happy ending. No resolution. No redemption.

I read so many excellent reviews about this book I could hardly wait for it to arrive. But after reading it I can't believe it ever got published.

It was so badly edited, if at all. The writer changes tense mid sentence. There are reams of unnecessary dialogue that drag on for 6 pages when one would do. It is self-indulgent, she allows herself splurges of nonsense and exaltation and ridiculous character attributes. The main female character, who she doesn't bother to disguise as being herself, is a full on aikido master in one scene, deflecting blows so fast you can't see her move. Later when she bends to see Simon's hair she can hardly bear squatting down and comments on how unfit she is.

There are random magical inventions that have absolutely no bearing on the story. The fact the the father Joe becomes the guardian of the soul of New Zealand is a little hard to swallow. The author is in love with her own thoughts and ideas.

I could go on. However it's not the worst book I read, the abuse scenes are amazingly well written and draw you in, and they do stay with you. As does the female Kerewin's annoying voice. IT's annoying but it is strong.

The best book I have ever read! The characters are the most human creations of any literary people I have encountered. Every person I have recommended this book to have pulled out different aspect of the characters to identify with, and soon count it in their favorites of all time. It changed my life... in all seriousness. humanity, truth, place, ugliness, and a connecting theme of beauty make this one worth reading FOR SURE!

With 84 Reviews, one hardly needs to over-state the issue, but this is an excellent read. I did find the end rather odd, and actually set the book aside for a week. Either Hulme had a problem with it, or the editor cut it. Simply put, the end is not of the same calibre as the first 3/4 -- mere glimmerings.
I would buy, sight unseen, Hulme's next book.

This was an extremely difficult book to read. It is long, the font (in the copy I had) was small, and the writing style was unique, but hard to follow. I got the basic gist of the story, but I'm sure I missed a lot of what the author was trying to convey.

The Bone People was the most impressive book I have read in a long time. Hulme's use of the vernacular language, mixed with her knowledge of the people and the landscape of the community she writes of, made this a powerful read. I eagerly await her next two novels.

I should have known about this book much earlier! This woman is an amazing storyteller, writer, intellctual. I anxiously wait for more words of wisdom.
Thank you Hulme for sharing your brilliance!

The Bone People, unfortunately, is not very well written. The "poetry" seems to consist of run-on sentences and a somewhat pretentious neo-primtivism. For example, the main character (Kerewin Holmes) calls a solar engine (a nice phrase in itself) a "sun-eater". It should also be obvious that Kerewin Holmes is a pretty thin disguise for Keri Hulme--adding another level to the pretentiousness of the book. Indeed, when it comes to the solar engine, Kerewin pretends not to have heard of its invention, pretends, oh, it's just a little something I concocted to amuse myself. There are lots of eye-rollers and similar moments of faux modesty --almost enough in themselves to make you want to put the book down. Add to this the utter lack of structure, the self-absorbed style, the lack of character development, the absence of a discernible plot and the only mystery left is how this book won a prize. Well, no, I have to take that back; in an age of political corectness, this book explores child abuse among a native people (the Maori) and there you have your basis for a prize. Nonetheless, it is the work of an amateur--albeit one with potential--but why an editor didn't insist on some structuring, development and and a lot of well-placed cuts is beyond me. ...

Doesn't matter how many poems you write, child abuse is still wrong. Not sure why this book was such a big hit. I must admit it was well written. However, just because the characters ar e part Maori doesn't excuse the brutal child abuse that happens.

Great literacy is about taking chances. You may love this book.

Surely, the discourse was presented excellently.

As for myself, I was excruciatingly bored and left feeling rather tentative about the time I put into this book.

This book could have been good. The possibilities were simply lost in the hands of an immature writer. Keri Hulme used a writing style that simply did not allow for the characters to develop into people I could care about. The sentence structure did not imply mysticism at all;this writer was sorely in need of several writing classes before submitting this disappointing piece. Don't waste your time on this!

Hulme writes with power and grace, but the themes are disturbing (child abuse, substance abuse--and I'm not a prude!), and the writing, though beautiful in places, is inconsistent with questionable shifts in narrative point of view.

This book is a message of hope, with characters that gnaw at your soul. When life seems tedious & so apart from the compelling, sweet-musty dreams of childhood this book acts as a lifeline. The loneliness & isolation of the modern experience lose power in the face of this powerful trilogy of characters. They have taken root in my mind through this novel replete with detailed imagery and multiple layers of meaning. Witnessing their triumph was a spiritual experience in itself. Being 1/2 pacific islander myself, I found this book especially affirming, rich, and touching. I dream Keri Hulme reads my review & receives my personal thanks.-CLARE IS HE- in me forever. Thank you so much!

The one-line summary says it all

When i first tried to read this book i was put off by the quite strange beginning. This may be because i am a boring person who did not understand what Ms Hulme was trying to say.

I am not alone in my boringness though, (we Kiwis are a boring lot), i have spoken to many people who likewise had to struggle through the opening pages or like me gave up completely.

I always tell the quitters to try again, it's worth it. This really is a magic book.

The book arrived earlier than expected which is good. Book is an old edition but in a fairly good state.

As for the book itself, it is one of the best I've read, a very special literary style combined with an interesting insight of New Zealand and of the Maori culture.