Talia Marshall’s Whaea Blue is one of the most anticipated books of the year. Here’s why and a sneak peek.
Talia Marshall (Ngāti Kuia, Rangitāne o Wairau, Ngāti Rārua, Ngāti Takihiku) is a writer in a class of her own; frankly, one of the best writers in Aotearoa today. For those of us who follow her work — who devour every new piece as it appears online and on their Substack — Whaea Blue is a feast of riches, the full power of a unique voice, wrapped in one of the best covers of 2024. Marshall’s writing style is a masterpiece of craft and voice, and a restless nature that never ceases to surprise the reader: all of this together makes for a powerful, haunting, and thought-provoking reading experience.
Whaea Blue is alarming in its honesty and its disturbing intelligence: in her recommendation for the book, Becky Manawatu uses the word “terrifying”, Victor Rodger “whirlwind”, Emma Hislop “fearless”. Whaea Blue is all of those words, plus funny, sometimes even romantic. Marshall’s work is terrifying because it is so astutely observant: of the people around her and of herself. A whirlwind because the mind questions, changes and turns at work. Fearless because there is no one else who writes like it: so raw and sophisticated, knowingly and openly messy.
The following excerpt is a chapter titled “Dolphin Princess” and refers to an earlier chapter in the book titled “So he went into the darkest, pinkest part of the whale and screamed, ‘Don’t tell the others.'” In this earlier chapter, Marshall and Roman (a recurring character in the book) engage in one hell of a fight on the way to Beau and Nanny Shy’s revelations. The excerpt gives a taste of what Talia Marshall fans are talking about and will no doubt leave you wanting much more. / Claire Mabey
Dolphin Princess
After the reveal for Beau and Shy we are on the ferry back to Te Waipounamu. I got into an argument with a couple because it is very early in the morning and the people around them (me) are trying to sleep but they are very loud about their love. I have already had to endure one marae sleep – I shouldn’t have to encounter a couple in love too.
They call me an overstayer and she tells me it’s clear I’m not getting one. So I almost start a movement as my son and Roman move to another part of the open lounge so they don’t have to defend my honor. Screw them two, I think – and screw these two, because the others in the lounge are on my side: heads breaking through the ceilings to tell the couple to shut the hell up too.
My leadership of the movement is short-lived as I get a little excited and embarrass my new followers by giving a rallying cry and telling them all I’m Tangata Whenua, even though no one asked. Across the lounge, Roman shakes his head, but it’s too late to pretend he doesn’t know me.
It’s not even seven in the morning and I’ve ruined the rest of my son’s day by self-destructing in the car.
But the woman was wrong on both counts. I was receive lots. Once we’re in the safety of the car, Roman remarks that they must have thought I was a holdover because of my hair and clothes. He thinks the pajamas I’m wearing are too tropical, that I look like a Pacific Islander. That’s almost a compliment from him, because he loves all things Tonga and insists that the nātis came from there when they weren’t growing out of the mountains yet.
There is a video he enjoys watching when I visit him in Gisborne two years later. It is a big event for the Tongan royal family, but most of the video is just the preparation of the feast. When I ask Roman why he enjoys it so much, he says it is because of the clinking of the cutlery, because he still has the ability to surprise me. He changes the video to a blind boy taking part in a kava ceremony who can sing and sing and sing.
“Whaea Blue” by Talia Marshall (Te Herenga Waka University Press, $40) is available from Unity Books.
