MY NEW ZEALAND SENIOR Short Stories collected by Bernard Gadd Longman Paul, $1.80.

Te Ao Hou, March 1974, Page 61

MY NEW ZEALAND SENIOR Short Stories collected by Bernard Gadd Longman Paul, $1.80. reviewed by Jane Ihimaera Bernard Gadd of Hillary College compiled My New Zealand ‘to help teachers in New Zealand and the Pacific Islands to find stories that students can respond to with personal understanding and enjoyment’ as a result of a need ‘for stories which were about people, places, situations that were familiar and believable to us’ and whose language sounded ‘natural and authentic’. I have quoted his intentions at some length, for this volume differs considerably from the many anthologies of New Zealand stories that have been appearing recently, which tend to have a considerable number of stories by ‘established’ authors, plus a few new ones to justify publication of yet another volume. Few of the writers represented here would score more than forty years, and although all but one of the stories have been published before, only three are dated before 1968. Perhaps not all the stories will be remembered as long as those which are regularly anthologised, but at least they help carry out Mr Gadd's intentions because they can be seen to be immediately relevant. School children are frequently put off reading anything published as long ago as the 1950s. Six of the stories are by Maori authors, including one by well-known poet Hone Tuwhare, and others deal with Maori characters; two stories are by Samoan writer Albert Wendt, which leaves about four or five purely Pakeha (or Papalagi) stories—proportions well suited to the needs of Hillary College and the many other schools in New Zealand with high Polynesian populations. The even balance will commend itself to students. The first story is one of the oldest, a Barry Crump. The idea seems to be to gain interest by using the mana which anyone who publishes a book called Bastards I Have Met will have with students, but I feel that is all one can say in its favour. The Crump style

is out-of-date now, and the story, a character sketch of a maddening bore in the next hospital bed, is a bore itself. Of the stories which stand out, the best is ‘A kind of Madness’ by Philip Mincher. It deals with the dilemma of a traffic cop—if he chases the speeding car, will he encourage it to go faster, and in the dangerous condition of the road, will he be responsible for the inevitable accident. If he lets it go by, might he not as well have another job. The topic is one which will affect and interest young people, the action is exciting, the point of view unusual, and the writing excellent—which will appeal to teachers. ‘Mark of the Rimu’ by O. E. Middleton is the only ‘fantastic’ story, and as such stands out. It is a slight eerie tale in the best fantasy tradition, with a chill at the end. Both Witi Ihimaera and Arapera Blank deal specifically with the problem of a Maori coping with two cultures, Ihimaera in a story that is funny on the surface, Arapera Blank in a bitter, forceful postscript to a story called ‘One Two Three Four Five’. It is a pity the whole story could not have been used. Oddly enough in this urban age, almost all the stories have rural settings. Mason Durie, Atihana Johns, Rowley Habib (with two stories about the same family giving a sense of continuity where most of the stories are very short), Phillip Wilson, Barry Mitcalfe and Hone Tuwhare all keep to country areas. Fiona Kidman, with a rural upbringing, sets her stories in the town. ‘On the Train’, first published here, is the thoughts of a ‘marginal’ mentally defective young man which makes its point effectively. Albert Wendt sets one of his stories, the tri-racial ‘Nazis? What is Nazis?’ in a city dump and the other in Samoa, a wide range of subject and of feeling. J. Edward Brown also chooses the Islands for an amusing anecdote. Finally, Barry Emslie provides a school story which will crystallise the feelings of many high school students towards the system. For teachers, there is a list of questions for discussion and research at the end. There is material for much interesting work here, which will ensure that the book is used in the senior forms it is designed for, where the obligation of studying books for exams only is all-powerful. I have a few quibbles about the standard of some of the writing—while I prefer idiomatic language with its concomitant grammatical errors in dialogue, I am less enthusiastic about the same errors in narrative unless required by dialect. This is not to say that I have any objections to the strength of the language, which Bernard Gadd feels obliged to justify in his introduction. All in all, this is an extremely good volume. I feel confident of its success in schools and wish that its appearance did not militate against its being bought by the community at large—it has unfortunately cover photographs on a base shade of a most unappealing yellow. However, it is well presented, and though a paper-back, sturdily bound. I look forward to its companion volume of short stories for juniors, due later this year.