Lesson 8) Parts of Polynesia
Dual students of Ancient Runes and Mythology notice some familiar sights in the classroom today. There are a fair few -- though not as many as in the Room of Runes -- wooden planks held magically aloft on pedestals throughout the room, alongside what look to be curved chest pieces and even a staff or two. All of these wooden objects span a wide range of wear and tear. Some appear to be on the brink of collapsing into a pile of decay and rot, and some look as clean and crisp as if they were carved yesterday. Professor Wessex is seated amidst it all at her desk, forming the centerpoint of it all. She appears to be taking notes which, as the bell tolls, she promptly finishes, rolls up, and attaches a large scroll to her diminutive owl’s leg before it takes off over the grounds.
Introduction
It is that time again, already? Well, I assure you that the mythology of Oceania (or the area roughly near Australia made up of open water filled with small islands) will not disappoint. Those who have taken my class have already received more than their fair share of information on the Rapanui, islanders native to a small dot of land many know as Easter Island, though this is not its native name. My students will ideally still have vivid memories of the various tangata cults, the importance of the frigatebird, and cultural problems that beset the island.
To a similar end, those of you who took Ancient Studies will know about various magical civilizations tucked away on some of these islands, such as the herbological wonder of Siquijor, the undeserved Dark reputation of Dobu, and have also discussed the aforementioned “Easter Island,” whose more accurate name is the same as the people themselves: Rapa Nui. You will also have heard a fair amount about the people who inhabit the two larger islands that make up New Zealand: the Maori.
These four groups are by far not the only native populations in the vast, island-dotted area of Polynesia. As you can see from the map, there are many islands intersected by trade routes and common paths. New Zealand is very easy to spot down at the lower corner of the triangle, and Easter Island isn’t too difficult either, composing the far right point of it. Though it may surprise you, Hawaii is even part of Polynesia, forming the majority of the top corner. But there are many smaller islands in between that are simply too compact to be noted on a map of this size. What all this means is that these islands are naturally quite isolated; the only travel for many years was by boat (after all, it is difficult to make a Portkey to a place they do not know exists), which limited contact with the outside world, and even contact between the various tribes and communities there. Still, they share some crucial similarities with each other.
Shared Secrets
One commonality among most, if not all, of the islands and their inhabitants is that they are not terribly ancient. Most were settled well after the latest cut off of “ancient times,” marked by 500 C.E. Still, many of these civilizations had much more in common with ancient societies because of their isolation and the way they used their magic. Magic and mundane were woven together much like the older societies of Europe, Africa, and Asia had been in centuries past. Until the arrival of Europeans, this worked out fine for them. Of course, those of you who attended Ancient Runes know how problematic the Europeans proved for the Rapanui. While they did not have the identical impact on every single society and island, slaving, depopulation by disease and attacks, as well as a loss of magical knowledge was not uncommon.
On a more pleasant topic, though, there are many other things that these civilizations shared besides crippling misfortune. While every island nation was not identical, the Polynesian (and extension, the Melanesian and Micronesian) people shared similar situations. For example, their isolation on tropical islands lead to heavy emphasis on water craft, the ability to navigate, and a reverence for the ocean as well as the volcanoes that make up many of the islands. Additionally, similar creatures pop up in their mythologies in similar ways. There are often fish or other water-dwellers like sharks, eels, and turtles. Birds feature frequently as well, though the species understandably changes from island to island. There are also similar cultural practices, like the veneration of elders, similar use and creation of different tools (bone fishhooks, woven baskets, etc.). While these likely come from comparable environments, part of these likenesses also come from the fact that the peoples of Polynesia traveled often. Their boats were not just for show. New islands would be settled via canoe and the people there would bring the old practices with them (though they may change slightly and grow unique over time away from the original settlement).
All of this is reflected in their myths. Their gods and stories are marked by many similarities, though because of the highly shared nature of their myths, it would be difficult to unpack even a single myth in a class period, if we were to truly cover all related versions and variants of it. Gods will often (if not always) have many different names, different relationships with other gods, and different stories, though they all connect to each other. Therefore, as we go over these myths, keep in mind that one community from one island may have heard a completely contrasting version of the story you are learning. Before we forge ahead to the topic of myths, though, there are two more semi-universal concepts we need to touch on.
Kupua
The first is the idea of “kupua.” Many figures -- usually people, but sometimes shapeshifting animals, and other times anthropomorphized geographic features like mountains or volcanoes -- in Polynesian myth bear this “kupua” status. This word is, naturally, different depending on the island you are visiting and the language they speak, but the concept remains largely the same. Kupua, a Hawaiian word, is often translated to mean “demigod,” and while this captures part of its meaning, it is -- as one-word definitions usually are -- a bit lacking. Kupua also, more subtly, means a person with two forms, or a sort of duality. It does not necessarily mean that this person (who is a kupua) had one parent who was a god, and one parent who was not. Depending on their mythology, both may have been gods, or neither. In fact, you may wish to think of kupua as humans with enhanced features, be they physical, magical, or otherwise. Many accounts of kupua have been retroactively theorized to be descriptions and depictions of witches and wizards, though some are complete inventions and/or are just gods in a particular pantheon. As we cover Polynesian myths in a moment, nearly all of the players are considered kupua, so you will get a very good idea of the range of possibilities.
Mana
Finally, we have the idea of “mana.” Mana is a nearly constant concept among the larger islands, tribes, and civilizations. It is an otherworldly force that is present in various areas of life. Mana can be in people, places, plants, animals, or actions. More, it is not in all people, places, plants, and the like to the same degree. One person may have far more mana than another. One location may have no mana at all, where another may have so much that there are special rules for entering it. While I have just warned of the problems of defining things with a single word, for the sake of brevity and memory, I will do so anyway. Mana, as you have hopefully already guessed, is largely equated with magic. There are other components to this concept as well, particularly by modern-day Muggles or particular myths, but the term is -- at least for your purposes -- largely synonymous. And, as you will see, both of these concepts play out in the myths we cover today.
Mythonesia
Because of the large number of islands and civilizations, there are many myths (and versions of those myths) to choose from. Often, (magi)anthropologists choose the best-documented one, or the most popular one as the base, and note the variants as they deviate from the facts of the “base” myth. The reason for that is simple. If you have only a fragment of a myth that isn’t quite clear on its own plot, characters, timeframe, or events… how can you contrast it with something else? This is why the most strongly established myth is usually chosen and then differences from the main myth are noted as necessary. This, in turn, strengthens the popularity and solidity of this myth further. Of course, there are exceptions to this, particularly if you are attempting to study a particular version of events or particular kupua, or even a particular tribe’s version of things. Our first myth, like all we will cover, has many retellings.
Maui the Last Born
If you have any background knowledge of Polynesian mythology, you already know of Maui. Maui, often depicted as a young man just coming of age (which naturally makes it so each tribe superimposes their view of what a good, productive man is on top of Maui’s features) is one of the main kupua of Polynesian myth. In many cases he is a hero and helper, in others a trickster, and in some, all of the above. Much like other heroic “demigods,” like Hercules, Theseus, Perseus, Manco Capac, King Arthur, and others, Maui undertook a series of seemingly impossible tasks. In Maui’s specific case, he undertook seven famous feats, though they were not all given to him in one lump assignment like the twelve labors of Hercules. Instead, these tasks were completed over the course of his life, and make up the contents of the myths for which he is best known. While we will not be able to go over all of these feats in detail, the list is as follows:
- Defeating his mother’s house
- Raising the sky
- Creating New Zealand
- Slowing the Sun
- Gifting humans with fire
- Defeating a monstrous eel
- Achieving immortality
Frustratingly, all of these are excellent tales, particularly for those of the magical community wanting to examine feats of wizarding power. It is largely agreed that Maui was a powerful wizard or, at the very least, a collection of powerful wizards. However, for reasons of time constraints, we will limit ourselves to only three of these tales today.
We will start with creating New Zealand, as creation stories are rather crucial in most mythologies. Maui, though we may think of him as an all-powerful wizard, god, or kupua, was actually the youngest of five (occasionally four) brothers… all also named Maui. His brothers felt he was lazy, untalented, and unworthy, and many of Maui’s hijinx are often done to prove himself to them, or to trick them. As this story opens, the brothers are specifically mocking Maui for his lack of skill with fishing, which Maui rejects as false. He concocts a plan to prove himself to his siblings. First, he makes a visit to the underworld to visit an unspecified ancestor. This person is half dead, half alive: literally split down the middle, as the story goes. This ancestor gives Maui the exposed jawbone from their deceased half which Maui then carves into a magical fish hook (something that he is associated with for the rest of his life). In some versions of the story, he also catches sacred animals (those with a lot of mana) to use as bait, often birds. At this point, he is well-prepared and he takes his brothers out in a canoe, so far out that land cannot be seen (even by these godly beings), farther than anyone has been out in the ocean before. Here, he casts his fish hook and begins to fish. He catches something large and heavy, and his brothers feverishly row the canoe backwards and Maui begins to hoist his catch from the water. However, instead of any mere fish, he slowly brings the two islands of New Zealand to the surface.1 From this point on, his brothers decide Maui is rather good at fishing after all.
Next, there is the marvelous feat of raising the sky. During Maui’s life, the sky had begun to sink. At first, it simply brushed the tops of trees and obscured the peaks of mountains. But soon, it fell so low that many struggled to even stand to their full height because of its nearness and oppressive weight. Maui’s mother, Hina (sometimes referred to as “Hina of the Fire” as a goddess, sometimes just a mortal woman), implores Maui to take care of this. Maui seeks help in doing so. In some cases, he is seeking the help of an old sorcerer and drinking a potion to imbue him with great strength so he can push the sky up and away to stay, and in other stories, he enlists the help of his father (also usually a god), and the two of them complete the feat entirely of their own accord. The people are very thankful, though the effects are still felt today, according to myths, as it is the reason for many natural phenomena, including the presence of some completely flat islands, or why palm leaves are so flat.
Finally, there is the story in which Maui seeks immortality, not only for himself, but for all mankind. Maui learns of the goddess of death (or alternatively a goblin goddess) called Hine-nui-te-po, which roughly translates to “great woman of the night.” She is the one that bestows death to all and is very powerful. However, her heart has great properties, and can grant immunity to death. Our hero plans to steal her heart in an attempt to give it out to all. However, Maui knows the goddess is dangerous and not only enacts a plan, but enlists help from the birds of the island (again, particularly those that are associated with magic, or the supernatural), and lays out the plan to them.
They are to wait until the goddess is asleep, and shrink themselves down to sneak into her mouth (avoiding her razor-sharp teeth made of volcanic rock) and continue to climb down until they reach her heart. No points for anatomy knowledge, I suppose. In any case, Maui’s only requirement of the birds is they cannot make a single peep. The plan goes off largely without a hitch, and Maui makes it to the heart, seizes it, and brings it back with them, until suddenly, just as they see the light of day as they crawl from Hina-nui-te-po, one of the birds lets out a brief chirp. It is this moment that the goddess awakes, realizes what is happening, and bites down fiercely, splitting Maui into pieces and killing him. Ah, you were expecting a different ending? Not surprising. It likely sounds strange for Maui to be famous for something he utterly failed at. However, many point to a possible moral that this story is supposed to convey. That immortality is either impossible, undesirable, or has a price not worth paying. Despite his grisly end, there is much Maui is famous for and, mythologically speaking, taught to his people. More importantly, there is much he can teach us about previous Polynesian society, but unfortunately, that will have to be where we close his tale for today.
The Union of Rangi and Papa
Going back in time, however, there is another important story of creation. This one has distinct parallels to many other mythologies containing sky and earth deities, particularly in those of Ancient Egypt. The story opens on Ranginui (or Rangi, for short) and Papatūānuku (which is typically shortened to Papa), the sky father and earth mother, respectively. Rangi and Papa love each other dearly, and stay eternally in a tight embrace. Over time, their children are born -- in some cases, seven males; in some cases seven males and 6 females; in others, as many as 44 separate deities. Whatever the number, however, the gods trapped between Rangi and Papa are suffocating, literally and figuratively. There is little room between them, and certainly no opportunity for anything to grow. Some of their children propose killing them, but Tane, the god of the forests disagrees. He lies on his back and uses his legs to push the pair apart until Papa comes crashing down.
The parents, though distressed to be separated, were proud of their son, especially because of the great growth that follows next. With space, the world flourishes, and seas and land are formed. However, to this day, Rangi misses Papa, and his tears fall to her regularly, while her longing sighs can be seen covering the grounds in mist.
Pele of the Sacred Land
One of Rangi and Pele’s offspring that was allowed to flourish when the two were forced apart is none other than Pele. Like Maui, Pele is another well-known deity, even in the modern day, among many tribes. This is because she is the goddess of a very present visual symbol: volcanoes. As those of you versed in geology will know, many of the small islands that pepper Polynesia are caused by volcanic activity, where lava has caused land to form and cool repeatedly until it begins to jut up above the surface of the water. It is no surprise, then, that Pele is so revered. Without her, there would be no land on which they could live, farm, and work. Of course, she is revered and feared as well; after all, those who are not respectfully cautious around a volcano end up burned.
Naturally, there are many stories about Pele, ranging from lighthearted (including a competition between herself and four other kupua of various natural elements) to all-out battles. We’ll be settling somewhere in between today, starting with the story of the formation of various islands (which islands these are specifically depends on which island you are from).
As the story goes, Pele and Namaka were sisters. While Namaka, the oldest, was a powerful water kupua, Pele felt more at home controlling the fires of the earth. It was clear that she was destined for great things, and her relative (sometimes an uncle, though with this telling where she is the daughter of the two first gods, this would be impossible) gave her a long magic wooden staff to be able to control her powers better. She experiences some difficulty -- in some versions even burning her sister’s house down accidentally -- but ultimately shows great potential, even though she is young. However, she is not just powerful, but also quite beautiful. When Pele’s older sister marries a sorcerer named Aukelenuiaiku, Pele continues their feud by seducing her sister’s husband.
When Namaka discovers this, she is furious and vows to drive her from their homeland. Pele, realizing that her sister is more powerful than she is, flees in fear of her sister’s wrath. She often stops on nearby islands to try to hide, but her sister finds her. In an attempt to defend herself, Pele draws the fire from the ground, creating a volcano on each island. However, there is just not enough fire in any of these islands, and the volcano goddess must abandon each one and repeat the process again and again.
Finally, she reaches the last island (again, which one this is, exactly, varies), Maui. At Maui, Pele resolves to make her last stand. As before, Namaka draws the waters up to create enormous waves, and Pele counters them by rapping her staff down and drawing the fire up from deep in the ground, creating craters and bowls. This time, Pele has finally reached her full potential. Namaka realizes she cannot win and leaves to try again another day. She returns many times, but is never able to defeat Pele. The exact damage or geological formations that the women form vary from story to story, based on the formations of the islands on which the tellers live. Often, these are bays, coves, mountains, cliffs, or -- unsurprisingly -- volcanoes. Her final island is said to be the sacred land full of mana (or magic) and, as you might guess, varies to be the native island of whoever is telling the story.
Sina and the Eel
Finally we come to a short tale that is often repeated with different characters. Sina plays many different parts. In some versions, she is a princess (or a chieftain’s daughter) or is often exchanged with many goddesses such as the various Hinas, Inas, and others. The eel changes as well. It is often, in fact, a shapeshifting person, kapua, prince, chieftain, or some other human figure. But, in some cases, it is just a very intelligent eel (a kupua of a different, non-human kind).
Regardless of these variations, let’s look at one of the base stories. In this version, as mentioned, Sina is merely a girl from a village. She visits the ocean frequently and befriends an eel. Every evening, she and the eel meet and spend hours swimming and spending time together. Eventually, the eel told Sina how he was once a prince, and the two were happy together. However, over time, the eel grew significantly in size, and started to become more and more demanding of Sina, especially of her time and of proof of her love. Terrified, Sina escaped the eel and vowed never to return, taking refuge in a village. However, the eel began to follow her wherever she went. Afraid and unsure what to do, she told her uncle, who gathered the men from her village to stop the beast.
In the ensuing battle, the eel’s head was severed. With his last breath, the eel asked Sina to plant his head, water it, and tend to it. Moved, Sina complied, and over time, a tree grew where his head once lay; the tree bore the coconut fruit, which bore a face like the eel. Therefore, each time Sina drank of the fruit’s nourishing water, she was kissing her love once more.
Closing
No time today even for creatures, though you’ll get the chance to look at some of them in an extra credit assignment. There will also be a customary quiz, as well as a mandatory assignment continuing your study of Maui. Last, especially if you are concerned about impending N.E.W.T.s, be sure to investigate the N.E.W.T. review assignment on heroes like some of the ones we briefly mentioned in class today. Come prepared next lesson to start thinking critically and creatively about the solutions that these myths can represent for those that study history, archaeology, and anthropology. We will be tying all of this together in our last lesson in this room. Until then.
Footnotes:
- MYTH-601
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