Patty O’Brien’s book on colonialism and exotic femininity in the South Pacific is a strong antidote to the rather “hemispheric-centric” focus of writings on colonialism produced by scholars from the northern hemisphere. As O’Brien notes in her introduction, the South Pacific history of exploration, contact, and colonization as viewed through an endless parade of feminine stereotypes has kindled popular expectations of edenic paradises, nubile dusky maidens, and alluring hospitality that have persisted for centuries. Not surprisingly, in the 1990s when I moved to New Zealand, a few people in the States still harbored visions of grass-clad “native” Maori living in a paradisiacal utopia.
In The Pacific Muse , O’Brien melds the classical definition of muse as the power of inspiration with images of colonial stereotypes drawn from notions of female primitivism or “exotic femininity” as applied to South Pacific indigenous women. Literary and visual images of the Pacific muse based on this combination of inspiration and stereotype become a rich metaphor with which to trace and measure the impact of historic and imaginary differentials affecting the relationship between islanders and outsiders. These images encompass a diverse range from sixteenth- to eighteenth-century allegorical representations of classically rendered female nudes embodying geographical places (America) and idyllic states (Eden or paradise) to contemporary islander “pin-up” models à la Gauguin. O’Brien wrote her book to address the lack of knowledge about South Pacific colonial and post-colonial history as well as to present a nuanced reading of the dynamics of exploration and contact pertaining to these malleable and persistent stereotypes of the Pacific.
A passionate curiosity about geography and natural history stimulated the European imagination--especially during the era of exploration. Since every place was conceived in terms of its position relative to Europe, the Pacific was regarded as its opposite, the Antipodes. Thus, O’Brien describes classical geographers’ idea of the Antipodes as “the ulterior underbelly of the northern world,” the home of monsters where natural laws were inverted, in other words, the underworld (57). This description appears to be a fitting backdrop for the history of colonialism in the South Pacific chronicled by O’Brien where trajectories of contact, power, imperialism, subordination, religious zealousness, and cross-cultural misconceptions often veered beyond control.
The Pacific Muse is a complex historical narrative and O’Brien wields a vast amount of material. Folklorists will be interested in the mythological dimensions of this narrative, particularly the discussion on the relationship among women, water, and sexuality as represented by nymphs, sirens, and mermaids, especially in their predatory aspects. Sometimes it feels like O’Brien is citing too much evidence to make a point. For example, she has a section on Orientalism, which complements her observations on female sexuality, race, and exotic places throughout the South Pacific. Her discussion, however, ranges from seventeenth- and eighteenth-century European travel writers to the images of the harem as imagined (not experienced) by the nineteenth century French artist, Jean-Auguste Dominque Ingres.
O’Brien is a historian and writes from a historical viewpoint. Given the range of colonial tactics and abuses from whaling to recent nuclear bomb tests, the historic and geographical circumstances of the Pacific region are well-suited to exploring issues of colonialism and its residual effects. Of importance to folklorists and anthropologists is the implication that “westernization” is an ambiguous process subject to multiple cultural forces affecting both the colonized and the colonizers. The Pacific Muse tends to foreground the atrocities and the irrevocable, but O’Brien’s analysis of the constantly incarnating colonial stereotypes of Pacific women gives us room to explore various complex indigenous strategies amidst competing historical and literary accounts.
As a study of colonialism, this book reaches beyond its geographical boundaries and has implications for art historians, folklorists, and anthropologists as well as those involved in gender studies, women’s studies, and colonial studies. Considering the potential of this readership, I wish the book had contained maps and a discrete list of illustrations. For such a heavily illustrated book, it was frustrating not being able to easily locate the source of an image. Graphically, this is a handsome book with an appropriate half tone image of a hibiscus as a chapter marker used throughout the text. Its attractive “crafted” appearance recalls the aesthetic tone, look, and feel of the type of nineteenth-century publication that provided important reference material for O’Brien’s study (i.e., bound journals, treatises on natural history and human evolution, etc.). Although numerous contemporary critiques of periphery and margin have proven to be theoretically rich, The Pacific Muse successfully repositions the actual geographical and historical South Pacific “periphery” (vis-à-vis the view from the northern hemisphere) to the center of a vibrant discussion of colonialism with global ramifications.
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[Review length: 769 words • Review posted on October 24, 2007]