`The Divine Mother: Representations of Women in Potiki and The Bone People Susan Zimmermann In The Transformation of Myth Through Time, Joseph Campbell cites the image of a mother with her child as central to mythology, noting that “until very, very recently, the condition of the female in the human society has been that of service to the coming and maintenance of life, of human life. That was her whole function–the woman in the role of center and continuator of nature” (1, 3). Depictions of the woman in myths from around the world have in common their treatment of this figure as the archetypal Divine Mother–a life-giving, life-affirming force who functions variously as a guardian, teacher, goddess, and temptress, and who is deemed the embodiment of man’s essential nature. Representations of the woman as Divine Mother have evolved gradually over time, as Campbell suggests, and have been perpetuated through literature. It is the universality of this motif that will be illustrated in the following discussion of two New Zealand novels–Patricia Grace’s Potiki and Keri Hulme’s The Bone People. It is by virtue of their respective relationships to the child-hero, TokoCand, specifically, through their participation in the cycle of birth, persecution, and resurrection which, according to Carl Jung, characterizes the life of the child-hero1 –that the archetypal nature of the characters of Mary and Roimata is established in Potiki. Both women are intimately involved in the life-cycle of Toko–Mary as an unwitting partner in his conception, and Roimata as his devoted, primary caregiver. The immaculate conception, and unceremonious sea delivery, of Toko are re-enactments of the “insignificant, miraculous birth” of the child-hero identified by Jung as typical of the first phase of the cycle (117). It is unusual, Jung contends, for the child-hero to be born bodily of his mother; instead, he is most often delivered to her, or to a pair of adoptive parents. Grace’s account of Toko’s virgin birth is reminiscent of accounts of the births of other child-heroes, including Christ, Buddha,2 and the Maori god, Maui;3 the child is conceived as MaryCwho, notably, shares her name with the birth mother of Christ–Cattempts to replace the missing eye of a male figurine she is polishing: She looked about on the floor for the missing eye but could not find it. So she went outside and found a little black stone which she fitted into the socket where the eye had been. She took her cloth and polished the penis and the thighs. When she had finished she stood on the stool again and said, ‘There, lovely and nice. You like that. Do you? Loving-man?’ And she lay her face against the carved face, and leaned her body against the 26
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carved body. Then they put their arms round each other holding each other closely, listening to the beating and the throbbing and the quiet of their hearts (22). Months later, complaining of pain and appearing “more awkward than […] usual,” Mary walks down to the beach and gives birth to Toko behind a pile of stones (32, 34). Overwhelmed by the arrival of the child, Mary, as is in her nature to do, attempts to impose order on the situation. “Mary is a tidier [remarks Roimata]. She will clear debris from the beach, either bringing what she has found home in her bucket, or returning it to the sea” (32-33); thus when she ‘finds’ the child, she attempts to ‘return’ him, as well: …Mary didn’t stop or turn. She walked into the water still holding whatever it was, close to her face, as though she could be eating or licking it […]. And Tangi called out [to Roimata], ‘Mum, Mum, it’s something! She was putting it in the water. O Mummy it isn’t a fish’ (33)! Mary’s attempt to return the “misshapen and cauled” Toko to the sea may be likened to that of Taranga to effect the same with her son, Maui, and it illustrates Jung’s contention that the child-hero’s birth is an unwelcomed event, often resulting in the separation of the latter from his background. 4 It is her abandonment of TokoCthe potiki5 whose “humpy shape[d]” back and “turned wisp[y]” legs are a constant source of both physical and emotional pain (33-34) – that initiates the second phase of the child-hero’s life-cycle and, significantly, paves the way for the third. Cast aside by Mary, Toko is ‘re-born’–from the womb of Mother Nature, symbolized by the sea–and subsequently delivered to his adoptive mother, Roimata, who accepts the child as a “gift” bestowed upon her by the gods (46). In her wisdom, Roimata recognizes that, as a compensation for his “crookedness,” the child is possessed of a “special knowing” which enables him to see into the past and future and, as a life-affirming force, she cultivates the child’s abilities (43). Both Mary and RoimataCin their capacity to create and to sustain life, respectively–occupy the position of Divine Mother in Grace’s novel, and parallels may be drawn between their roles and those of Hana and Kerewin in The Bone People. Like Toko’s, Simon’s is indeed a miraculous birth; the sole survivor of a shipwreck, the child-hero is delivered–also via the sea–to his adoptive parents, Hana and Joe. A mute child, Simon is unable to tell anyone who is he or from where he has come; it is Hana who begins calling him Simon Peter–“because he initially reacted to that name most of all” (87) –that act of naming the child-hero, positioning her, significantly, as his creator. Hana’s tragic death signals Simon’s abandonment and thus initiates phases two and three of his life-cycle: 27
The Divine Mother persecution and resurrection. The child-hero suffers horrendous physical and emotional abuse at the hands of his father who, grief-stricken over the loss of his beloved Hana and their youngest son, turns to alcohol for solace. Each day gives rise to a new battle between father and son, the persecution of the child intensifying to the point that it is no longer bearable. Simon’s resurrection begins as he develops a relationship with Kerewin in the wake of Hana’s death. Injured and alone, the child-hero delivers himself to Kerewin’s Tower, imposing his presence upon the reluctant artist-in-exile. Even before she sees him, Kerewin is aware of Simon’s presence, finding in the sand outside her home a discarded, worn sandal in which she can see and feel the indentation of the child’s foot (15). It is within the Tower that she first encounters him, the child “standing stiff and straight like some weird saint in a stained gold window […]. A thin shockheaded person, haloed in hair, shrouded in the dying sunlight” (16). When Simon climbs down from the window, Kerewin observes, first-hand, evidence of his persecution–a puncture wound in his foot consistent with that endured by Christ upon his crucifixion (18). Like Hana, Kerewin eventually ‘adopts’ Simon and plays an instrumental role in the construction of the child’s identity, researching his past and providing him with a history when she discovers that he may be related to Irish nobility (98-99). Significantly, the women in these novels are depicted as life-giving, life-affirming forces not only for the child-hero, but also for the Maori culture at large; as the medium through which stories and songs that connect past, present, and future–Maori and Pakeha–are conveyed, each woman is a source of knowledge and wisdom. In Potiki, for example, Roimata encourages Toko’s storytelling along with that of the other members of her family, recognizing that it is through their stories that individuals and, by extension, entire cultures are connected: And although the stories all had different voices, and came from different times and places and understandings, though some were shown, enacted or written rather than told, each one was like a puzzle piece which tongued or grooved neatly to another. And this train of stories defined our lives, curving out from points on the spiral in ever-widening circles from which neither beginnings nor endings could be defined (41). Roimata decides to dispense with what she perceives to be her traditional role– that of teacher, a role for which she had trained–and decides instead to become “a teller of stories, a listener to stories, a writer and a reader of stories, an enactor, a collector and a maker of stories” (38). She recognizes that it is through the acts of creating, communicating, and collecting their stories that her family, and the Maori culture, will survive: 28
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We could not afford books so we made our own. In this way we were able to find ourselves in books. It is rare for us to find ourselves in books, but in our own books we were able to find and define our lives (104). When their homes and meeting-house come under threat following the damming of the creek, Roimata is also instrumental in attempting to rectify the damage to the environment. In addition to assisting with the physical task of clearing the blockage in the creek, she recognizes the importance of banning together with another Maori tribe to re-build what has been destroyed by the Pakeha developers. Roimata remarks: It was our own that were able to bring us home. It was those who were not strong that could give us strength. The mud that covered our bodies and our clothes now clung to them as well, but it was the same mud that pulled at our feet, the mud of our own standing place (129-130). Like Roimata, Kerewin, in The Bone People, emerges as a symbol of wisdom and is a driving force in the preservation of the Maori culture; the very Tower within which she dwells, for example, stands as a monument to intellectual pursuits. The eclectic collection of books, artifacts, and icons amassed within define the Tower as the “point of highest intellectual and technical density in the land,” remarks Georges-Goulven LeCam, and represent the sum of all human knowledge at Kerewin’s disposal (68-69). Hulme refers to the latter as Kerewin’s “tools,” which consist of A broad general knowledge encompassing bits of history, psychology, theology, religious theory and practices of many kinds. Her charts of self-knowledge. Her library. The inner thirst for information about everything that had lived or lives on Earth that she’d kept alive long after childhood had ended (90). Furthermore, her manipulation of languageCproudly, she declares “obfuscation” her “trade” (24) –and ability to communicate over a wide range of issues fluently English, Maori and, as Susie O’Brien observes, “scientific jargon, with frequent recourse to neologisms,” establish Kerewin as the embodiment of knowledge and as a potential mediating figure (79). Her efforts to trace Simon’s origins result in an acknowledgment of the shared history of the Maori and Pakeha cultures and are crucial in the reparation of the child-hero’s relationship with his father and likewise of Kerewin’s own relationship with her family. 29
The Divine Mother While both Grace and Hulme perpetuate the myth of the Divine Mother in their respective novels, they also illustrate, through an examination of the relationship between mother and child, the difficulties inherent in attempting to get into “harmony and tune with the universe” in the modern-day setting of New Zealand. Their works illuminate what Le Debleu refers to as participation mystique (mystic participation), the unique bond forged between mother and child which is “the final happy land;” Le Debleu contends that, “when one can feel oneself in relation to the universe in the same complete and natural way as that of the child with the mother, one is in complete harmony and tune with the universe” (qtd. in Campbell 1). That the child-heroes in Potiki and The Bone People must endure continuous cycles of birth, persecution, and resurrection–and that their unions with their respective mothers are, at times, discordant–suggests that the desired relationship between mother and child, and between the individual and the universe, has not yet been achieved. Endnotes 1. In Introduction to a Science of Mythology, Jung identifies the child as representative of the Divine Center toward which the individual engaged in the process of individuation journeys, and he argues that child’s divine nature is illuminated through this cycle of creation, persecution, and resurrection (117). 2. In The Mythic Image, Campbell writes that, on the night Buddha was conceived, Queen Maya had a dream that a white elephant descended from heaven, circled her bed three times, and “struck her right side with its trunk and entered the womb” (243). 3. Margaret Orbell explains the unique circumstances of Maui’s birth in The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Maori Myth and Legend, noting that this child-hero was, in fact, a miscarried fetus that survived in the sea. Cared for by “the people of the sea (or other guardians),” Maui grew older and eventually returned to his mother, Taranga, and was accepted once more into his kinship group (114). 4. Jung remarks as follows in Introduction to a Science of Mythology: Nothing in all the world welcomes this new birth, although it is the most precious fruit of Mother Nature herself, the most charged with the future, signifying a higher stage of self-realization. That is why Nature, the world of the instincts, takes the ‘child’ under its wing […] (120-121). 5. “Youngest child” or Arunt,” according to John C. Ross (par. 8). Works Cited Beck, Barry. “Ancient Archetypes and Modern ManifestationsBthe Goddess.” http://www.wynja.com/personality/goddess.html. 28 January 2001. Campbell, Joseph. The Mythic Image. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton UP, 1974. –Transformations of Myth Through Time. New York: Harper & Row Publishers, 1990. Grace, Patricia. Potiki. Auckland: Penguin Books (NZ) Ltd., 1986. Hulme, Keri. The Bone People. New York: Penguin Books, 1986. Jung, C.G. and C. Kerenyi. Introduction to a Science of Mythology: the Divine Child and the Mysteries of Eleusis. Trans. R.F.C. Hull. London: Routledge, 1951. Le Cam, Georges-Goulven. “The Quest for Archetypal Self-Truth in Keri Hulme’s The Bone People: Towards a Western Re-Definition of Maori Culture?” Commonwealth Essays and Studies 15.2 (Spring 1993): 66-79.
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The Divine Mother O’Brien, Susie. “Raising Silent Voices: the Role of the Silent Child in An Imaginary Life and The Bone People.” SPAN: Journal of the South Pacific Association for Commonwealth Literature and Language Studies 30 (April 1990): 79-91. Orbell, Margaret. The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Maori Myth and Legend. Christchurch: Canterbury UP, 1995. Ross, John C. “Diverging Paths: New Zealand Writing in 1986.” Australian and New Zealand Studies in Canada 3 (1990): 9 pars.
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