Volume 106 1997 > Volume 106, No. 1 > Reviews, p 93-104
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BINNEY, Judith: Redemption Songs: A Life of Te Kooti Arikirangi Te Turuki. Auckland: Auckland University Press with Bridget Williams Books, 1995. 666 pp. apps, bib., glossary, index, maps, photos, plates, n.p. (cloth).
PATRICIA LAING Victoria University of Wellington

In this biography of Te Kooti, Judith Binney integrates a multitude of past and present, written and oral sources. From these she successfully constructs the elusive nature of the prophet in times of war and peace, and elaborates the complexity of the colonial setting to which he related in the second half of the 19th century. For anyone who is interested in colonial history, or the history of ideas which informs race relations and cross-cultural communication between Maori and Pakeha today, this book is essential and transformational reading.

Te Kooti was pardoned for his warrior activities in 1883. Binney persuasively argues that this was the just course of action despite the fact that it was a political manoeuvre to gain access to land needed to complete the main trunk railway line. The public reception of Te Kooti's pardon was mixed. Other media responses to him during his lifetime and those remembering the centenary of his death also varied enormously. Binney's elaboration of these diverse responses shows how racial stereotypes and prejudices cut across both Maori and Pakeha thinking. This is a feature of race relations which Binney indicates has been with us since Te Kooti's time, when alliances shifted and changed across tribal and racial lines depending on Maori and Pakeha visions of their shared and respective futures.

If the justice of Te Kooti's pardon is accepted from the outset, then Binney's text facilitates contemplation of other paradoxical aspects of this religious leader's life. One is the way Te Kooti opened up the landscape for reinterpretation. Gardening in the wilderness, destroying and creating tapu places, and tracking elusively across the land to escape his enemies, he challenged both Maori and Pakeha to reconsider its potential to nurture and destroy. This sense of tracking and being tracked gives way in peace time to building and gifting meeting houses, as well as having meeting houses built for him, despite the fact that he was barred from returning to his birthplace or settling in another place. His negotiations on these counts with Maori chiefs and the government were not fruitful during his lifetime.

Te Kooti challenged the traditional chiefs, particularly those who apparently were like-minded in their visions of the future, such as Te Whiti, Tohu and Tawhiao. Binney interpreted this as a contest of mana—one that kept the concerns about Maori sovereignty over their land to the fore in public debate—but she might have gone further. Her text raises questions about the differences and similarities between the conceptions of land held by different Maori leaders of the time; about why Te Kooti called the chiefs “money chiefs” and insisted that his was the right way, - 94 while at the same time working behind the scenes for the same unity of purpose as the very Maori leaders he was challenging.

Binney positions her biography in the epilogue comparing her purpose to that of Jeff Sissons' historical account of Tuhoe in the Waimana Valley. Central to Sissons' thinking is the idea that every narrative in an oral history is about mana, and to remain in the public arena it must be challenged and debated. He organised oral narratives within the various domains of local concern in order to ensure that Tuhoe perspectives were not subordinate to his own historical constructions. In comparison, Binney sees her biography as belonging more within the Western European tradition of constructing written history, arguing the value of juxtaposing the written and oral narratives, and placing them in a sequential historical framework. She puts more emphasis on her responsibilities as the author—this is her story of Te Kooti's life. Binney continually reiterates a desire for her book to be one version of Te Kooti's biography—never conclusive, it is dedicated “in all humility to those who hold the stories that are yet to be told”. In entering the borderlands of thinking between cultures (p.524), she positions herself paradoxically, perpetuating the colonial processes of co-option which writing a Western European biography of Te Kooti represents and, at the same time, advocating a vision of race relations and cross-cultural communication which, being complex and shifting, is consistent with the prophet's.

The beauty and elegance of this book highlights all the more starkly the issues relating to oral and written histories, the responsibilities and positioning of authorship, and the socio-political context within which we write. I will treasure this book for the insights it offers into our colonial past and what it represents in terms of outstanding Western scholarship. At the same time I want to remember the challenges facing Maori today when they are gathering together knowledge of the kind Binney offers here, for the purposes of seeking redress and recognition of the Treaty of Waitangi before a law which Te Kooti came to respect so much.

  • Sissons, J., 1991. Te Waimana: The Spring of Mana: Tuhoe History and the Colonial Encounter. Dunedin: University of Otago Press.
EVISON, Harry C.: Te Waipounamu: The Greenstone Island: A History of the Southern Maori during the European Colonisation of New Zealand. Christchurch: Aoraki Press, 1993. xxvi + 582 pp. apps, bib., glossary, illus, index, maps, photos, n.p. (paper).
RANGINUI J. WALKER University of Auckland

This book is the culmination of 40 years of painstaking research by Harry Evison into the history of the Ngai Tahu people of South Island. The story is set in the - 95 backdrop of British imperialism and colonial politics. It begins with the traditions of the ancestor Rakaihautu shaping the mountains, lakes, and fiords that characterise the landscape of the South Island. The taniwha Poutini enhanced the land by abducting the beautiful Waitaiki from the North Island and transforming her into pounamu, New Zealand jade. This hard translucent greenstone was prized by Maori as a taonga, a treasure for the manufacture of the finest ornaments and cutting tools. Its main source was the waters of the Arahura River, from which is derived the name Te Waipounamu for the South Island.

North Island tribes crossed Cook Strait in search of greenstone. Some stayed and displaced the early Waitaha and Ngaati Mamoe people by pushing them southward. In the 17th century, the Ngai Tahu from the East Coast gained the ascendancy. Gradually the Ngai Tahu subtribes defined their territories, established their residential sites and staked out their mahinga kai, the places where they drew sustenance from their seasonal foods. In the late summer, after the main food supplies had been harvested, there was a short fighting season that lasted until late autumn. Thereafter the tribes turned their attention to harvesting mutton birds for the winter months.

In 1770, the even tenor of tribal life was disturbed by the arrival of a British scientific expedition led by Captain James Cook. Thereafter Ngai Tahu were subjected to rapid social, economic and political changes brought about by whalers, sealers, traders, missionaries and European colonisation. The outcome was cultural erosion, alienation of land and loss of mana. Ngai Tahu contributed to their own misfortune by engaging in a fraternal tribal war known as “kai huanga” (consuming relations). Subsequently they were not strong enough to resist an invasion by Te Rauparaha of Ngaati Toa and his allies from the North Island.

Although Te Rauparaha pushed Ngai Tahu south of Kaiapoi, the major players in the destruction of Ngai Tahu mana were the New Zealand Company, Governor Grey, and his native land purchase commissioners Tacy Kemp and Walter Mantell. These men separated Ngai Tahu from their lands by various strategies, including plying chiefs with alcohol, threatening military invasion, and playing off Ngaati Toa's claims against Ngai Tahu to induce sales. They also promised ample reserves of “tenths”, in land blocks sold to the Crown, protection of mahinga kai, reservation of house sites, and promises of benefits by way of schools and hospitals. It is these promises, not honoured by the Crown, that constitute “Te Kereeme”, the Ngai Tahu Land Claim before the Waitangi Tribunal.

Evison's research into the facts surrounding the Crown's role in the despoliation of Ngai Tahu rights guaranteed by treaty stands as a monumental justification of “Te Kereeme”.

The book concludes with brief, tantalising comments on the 1991 and 1992 reports of the Waitangi Tribunal on the Ngai Tahu claim. A stronger critique was warranted.

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FINNEY, Ben, Marlene Among, Chad Baybayan, Tai Crouch, Paul Frost, Bernard Kilonsky, Richard Rhodes, Thomas Schroeder, Dixon Stroup, Nainoa Thompson, Robert Worthington and Elisa Yadao. Voyage of Rediscovery: A Cultural Odyssey through Polynesia. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995. 401 pp. bib., diags, illus, index, maps. n.p. (cloth).
SIMON H. BICKLER University of Virginia

The prehistoric conquest of the Pacific Islands captures the imagination and passions like few other topics. Researchers have sifted through the range of archaeological, linguistic, ethnographic and historical data for clues to this conquest. Modern Pacific sailors have also worked to redevelop the technological skills of canoe building and sailing, and the traditional navigational knowledge necessary to survive long distance voyages. Finney and his colleagues have been active both in the academic research and in the cultural revival of Pacific voyaging traditions, and this book describes their achievements.

The book starts with the European historical encounter with Polynesians and the difficulty the earliest European explorers had explaining the presence of the peoples living throughout the Pacific. The stories of local creations, lost groups, and American migrations, followed by emerging models of Polynesian voyaging are a colourful backdrop to Finney's personal journey into the field. His initial forays into the experimental archaeology of building the Nālehia and then the “performance accurate” Hōkūle'a provide useful insights into the technology required by prehistoric Polynesian canoe-builders.

The middle chapters are detailed descriptions of Hōkūle'a's voyages across the Pacific. These voyages explore the navigational techniques required for long distance interisland sailing, building on work by David Lewis and Micronesian navigator Mau Piailug.

The seasoning of Hawaiian navigator Nainoa Thompson during the voyages symbolises the renewed interest in Polynesian navigational traditions for Polynesian, and particularly Hawaiian, culture. This revival and the implications of the voyaging theory for Polynesian prehistory are discussed in the final chapters.

Finney weaves his way through three fundamental issues the voyaging theory bears on: intentional and accidental voyaging, exploration and colonisation, and method and motive. Exploration and colonisation of the Pacific are considered by most researchers to have been purposeful, but there is little doubt that a significant amount of land finding, particularly within archipelagoes, may have been “by accident”.

The navigational techniques would have been the basis of the systematic exploration of the Pacific. The initial finding of land and returning home makes the processes of later colonisation and interisland movements easier.

However, the methods used by the Polynesians do not explain the motivations behind such socially expensive, and sometimes dangerous journeys. Finney et al. - 97 argue (p. 301) that 0.5 million people may have died at sea during 2000 years of Polynesian expansion. This is only a broad estimate of the true cost of Pacific colonisation. The motivations offered (p. 267) cover the standard model: younger sons of chiefs seeking new land to rule and, during later periods, people fleeing from famine or war. These do not fully capture the processes that operated.

The book's extensive illustrations, including charts and a series of “woodcut” style images, add an extra dimension. Scenes of canoes rolling in deep water swells, arriving home surrounded by a welcoming flotilla of boats, and portraits of resolute sailors looking out for that telltale sign of land create an old-fashioned, romantic feel to the book.

This story of the construction and sailing of Hōkūle'a is not just about the rediscovery of Polynesian voyaging past, but is also a personal journey for Finney and colleagues. Combining thorough research with a splash of adventure makes compelling reading.

HOUGHTON, Philip: People of the Great Ocean: Aspects of Human Biology of the Early Pacific. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. 292 pp. bib., diags, illus, index, maps, tables. Price AUD $80 (cloth).
ELIZABETH MATISOO-SMITH University of Auckland

This volume is one of the few to have attempted to synthesise almost a century of research on prehistoric Pacific human biology and to venture beyond mere description. Houghton begins with a general description of Pacific Islanders and their physical environment, from early European accounts, through the anthropometric studies which dominated early research, to the analysis of skeletal remains of ancient Pacific populations.

In Chapter 3 Houghton develops the main theme of the book—introducing the biogeographical concepts of Bergmann's and Allen's Rules: that larger and more muscular populations tend to be found in colder climates. Previously, Houghton showed that prehistoric Polynesian populations were unusually tall and robust. However, given Bergmann's and Allen's Rules, they appear to be out of place on tropical islands. Houghton suggests that, on the contrary, the Pacific, or more specifically, the open ocean environment of Remote Oceania, is cold—cold enough that all but the large muscular people are dying at sea trying to settle it! After presenting a number of rather complex calculations involving body heat production and loss, he concludes that “the transition to an impressively large and muscular physique with passage from Near to Remote Oceania is a consequence of the selective pressures of the oceanic environment” (p. 80).

Chapter 4 presents a unique discussion of the skeletal morphology. Here Houghton goes beyond description, to consider why the Polynesian head and facial characteristics are so distinctive. By looking at the functional and developmental - 98 aspects of the brain, head and face, he hypothesises that the body mass and muscularity necessary to survive the extreme cold of Remote Oceanic voyaging require a large respiratory tract. This leads to the development of the unique Polynesian cranial facial features—the pentagonal shape, lack of prognathism and “rocker jaw”.

Chapter 5 provides critiques of earlier models and methodologies used in the study of Pacific prehistory, including historical linguistics and the use of metric and non-metric traits and dermatoglyphics. He follows these with a new model for the settlement of Remote Oceania, focusing on latitude as the primary factor determining success and chronology of colonisation: higher latitude equals colder climate and therefore later settlement.

Chapters 6 and 7 address the general health of Pacific people, both ancient and modern. This includes discussion of the legacy of all of the postulated adaptive responses as seen in the health of Polynesians today.

Overall, Houghton's adaptive hypothesis is unconvincing. Firstly, the numbers contradict his argument—the largest and most robust individuals (shown in his tables) are from the Lapita Period site, Watom in the Bismarck Archipelago in Near, not Remote, Oceania. Interestingly, robusticity does not correlate with latitude. Many of Houghton's unique “Polynesian” features are found in both robust and gracile populations (Van Dijk n.d.) throughout the Pacific and Asia. Houghton's heat loss calculations are based on “nude men”(p. 64) though he later states that “… a simple rainproof and windproof poncho may be worth kilograms of muscle” (p. 94). This underestimates both the intelligence and material culture of the Polynesian ancestors. It is disappointing that the one publication that criticises his adaptive hypothesis (Van Dijk 1991) is not mentioned, and Irwin's (1992) voyaging theory receives only cursory mention. The repeated misspelling of Kiribati is unacceptable.

Despite these criticisms, this book is valuable in integrating a large body of biological literature. More importantly, Houghton's attempt to explain the Polynesian phenotype initiates long overdue discussion, debate and hypothesis testing.

  • Irwin, G.J., 1992. The Prehistoric Exploration and Colonisation of the Pacific. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
  • Van Dijk, N., 1991. The Hansel and Gretel Syndrome. A critique of Houghton's Cold Adaptation Hypothesis and an alternative model. New Zealand Journal of Archaeology, 13:65-89.
  • —— n.d. Who Are These People? Human Skeletal Remains from the Pacific Region. Paper presented at the 3rd Archaeological Conference—The Western Pacific, 5000 to 2000 BP. Port Vila, Vanuatu. August 1-6, 1996.
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MOSEL, Ulrike and Even Hovdhaugen: Samoan Reference Grammar. Oslo: Scandinavian University Press and The Institute for Comparative Research in Human Culture, 1992. 819 pp. bib., figs, index, tables, word list. n.p. (cloth).
FRANTISEK LICHTENBERK University of Auckland

This grammar far surpasses any previous description of Samoan in its richness of data, and detail of classification and analysis. Samoan exists in two main varieties: tautala leaga,the colloquial variety, and tautala lelei, standard Samoan. It is standard Samoan that is the focus of Mosel and Hovdhaugen's grammar, although examples are occasionally given from the colloquial variety. It is clearly impossible to do justice to a work of this scope in the space available, and consequently this review will highlight only some aspects of the description.

Part I contains an introductory chapter, a chapter on the phonology and orthography, and a chapter on a preliminary view of the sentence. Part II, the bulk of the book, deals with the following general topics: word classes, morphology, types of phrase, types of clause, multi-clause sentences, and case marking and grammatical relations.

Mosel and Hovdhaugen distinguish four basic word classes in Samoan: full words, pro-forms, particles and interjections. They say that the majority (if not all) of the full words can function as nouns and as verbs, and so cannot be listed in the lexicon as either. At the same time, they make statements that appear to contradict this presumed absence of an inherent noun-verb distinction. For example, they say that “[t]he numerals form a subclass of verbs and can function as the nucleus of verb phrases, the nucleus of noun phrases, and as modifiers in noun and verb phrases, …” (p. 117; see also p. 318). Similarly, they say that the nucleus of a verb phrase may be modified by a noun (p. 392) or by a verb (p. 397) in apparently identical positions.

The discussion of phrase and clause types is very detailed, but in places it is unnecessarily complex and fragmented. Thus, the classification of clause types could be simplified if certain constituents were identified as optional, rather than setting up two classes, one with and one without the relevant constituent. There is also unnecessary fragmentation in the discussion of nominal clauses; for example, negation is discussed in several places, where a smaller number of statements would appear sufficient. The classification seems a mixture of clause types as grammatically defined and the kinds of clause present in Mosel and Hovdhaugen's corpus.

Samoan is predicate-initial in its basic word order. Mosel and Hovdhaugen identify pragmatic factors (focus of new information comes immediately after the verb phrase) and grammatical factors (e.g., nouns v. pronouns) that affect word order.

While the grammar is detailed in classification and subclassification of morphosyntactic categories, there are areas where it is somewhat lacking in structural analysis, with more weight given to the linear order of the constituents than to their - 100 structural arrangement. For example, one type of construction is said to have the structure e + verb/numeral + absolutive NP + relative clause, when in fact the relative clause is a constituent inside the absolutive NP. The term “verb serialisation” is used very loosely: it appears to refer to any sequence of two verbs. Serialisation is even said to be used to form embedded clauses, including complement clauses, and also in clause chaining. No categorial distinction is drawn between the ergative marker e on the one hand and such markers as locative/directional, ablative and benefactive on the other. All are considered prepositions; and the prepositions are, in turn, considered a “class of particles” (p. 143). Directional particles are said to follow verbs; however, the fact that they can carry an ergative suffix is evidence that a particle and the preceding verb form a unit (a compound?). In fact, on p. 380 two examples of the directional mai ‘towards the speaker or the person or object being the focus of the narrative’ are given, each one with a different ergative suffix, the suffix presumably determined by the preceding verb.

The final chapter on case marking and grammatical relations discusses matters of more general theoretical interest. There is an extended discussion, based on Hopper and Thompson (1980), of transitivity in Samoan. The use of the long and short variants of certain verbs, discussed by previous researchers of Samoan, is sensitive to, though not fully determined by, a variety of factors, such as speech style (casual v. formal), affectedness of O, and saliency of A. At the end of the chapter, Mosel and Hovdhaugen recapitulate what they see as “some remarkable characteristics of Samoan syntax” (p. 772). These include, among others: Samoan has morphological ergativity, but it has no consistent/dominant syntactic pivot: “[m]ost syntactic constructions do not discriminate among core arguments, but treat S, A and O alike, others choose agentive S and A, or prefer S and O” (p. 773); and there is no antipassive or passive.

As far as the production is concerned, the volume would have profited from more careful proof-reading and editing.

The shortcomings mentioned above apart (and there will undoubtedly also be specific areas of analysis where other students of Samoan will disagree with Mosel and Hovdhaugen), the volume is an impressive contribution to Samoan linguistics and will also be of great value to the more general field of Polynesian linguistics.

  • Hopper, P. J. and S. A. Thompson, 1980. Transitivity in grammar and discourse. Language, 56:251-99.
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ORANS, Martin: Not Even Wrong: Margaret Mead, Derek Freeman and the Samoans. Novato, CA: Chandler and Sharp, 1996. 200pp. Price US$14.95 (paper).
HILARY LAPSLEY University of Waikato

It is more than a decade since Derek Freeman brought Margaret Mead's Samoan fieldwork into disrepute, arguing that there were many errors in her account of Samoan life and that her culturally determinist conclusions about adolescence seemed to be informed more by ideology than by observation. More recently, Freeman has argued that Mead collected very little data on sexuality and was hoaxed by a couple of informants who told the young anthropologist what she wanted to know. Though many (but far from all) of Freeman's points against Mead are convincing, no one who has carefully read Mead's Coming of Age in Samoa and Letters from the Field is likely to believe the tale of a hoax. This outlandish scenario has gained widespread public credence with news stories, a television documentary, and now David Williamson's play, The Heretic, which apparently presents Freeman as a lone truth-seeker battling the “politically correct” anthropological establishment. Freeman's latest book, soon to be released, will no doubt further entrench this view.

Martin Orans has done us a great service by examining Mead's original field materials, lodged in the Library of Congress, and using these to assess both Coming of Age in Samoa and Freeman's critique. Orans is strongly critical of Mead. His thesis is that she was “not even wrong” about Samoa because her cross-cultural hypotheses and means of testing them did not meet the scientific hallmark of falsifiability. Yet to my mind, he has rehabilitated Mead more that he realises. Though Freeman does not exactly accuse Mead of scientific fraud, the public may be forgiven for sometimes taking that impression. However, the fact that Mead faithfully preserved her field materials for future scholars shows that she had no intention to deceive. Most importantly, the hoax accusation is ruled out once and for all by her note taking on sexuality from a number of sources over the whole period of her stay in Samoa. Moreover, the supposed misinformation she gained from the “hoax” is not even recorded in her extensive field notes.

Orans argues that Mead's portrait of Samoa suffers from a kind of double slippage. The first is between what she knew (field notes) and what she wrote in Coming of Age, which skewed her field materials in the direction of her hypothesis (more sexual freedom, less violence). The second is between what she wrote (which does in fact contain frequent references to both conflict and sexual restrictions) and the public image of the book (free love in a South Sea Island paradise).

Orans provides several examples of downright contradictions between field notes and book. For example, Mead asserted that none of the girls of Ta'u spoke English, yet the field notes record that some did. But on the distaff side (so to speak), Freeman's account of the “hoax” contains wilful omissions of crucial material favourable to Mead, notably in reporting her letters to Boas.

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One wonders how well other classic works of anthropology would stand up to the strict definitions of scientific practice Orans uses in his assessment of Coming of Age. Ruth Benedict's advocacy of the need for “intelligent interpretation” of a culture, for example, would seem to fall foul of his empiricist emphasis, a difficulty which Orans himself acknowledges. But however much the reader agrees or disagrees with him, he has set out the materials fair-mindedly and produced a wonderfully clear analysis of the relation between the field materials and the final work.

SPOONLEY, Paul, Cluny Macpherson and David Pearson (eds): Nga Patai: Racism and Ethnic Relations in Aotearoa/New Zealand. Palmerston North: Dunmore Press, 1996. 300 pp. bib., figs, index, tables. Price NZ$44.95 (paper).
JULIE PARK University of Auckland

Nga Patai is the 1996 successor to two earlier collections by the same group of editors, Tauiwi (1984) and Nga Take (1991). Like the earlier volumes it is concerned with migration, contemporary Maori experience, the State's and other institutions' roles in ethnic issues and racism, questions of identity, ethnic politics and multiculturalism.

While some of the survey papers update and replace similar earlier offerings, e.g., Ongley's lucid account of “immigration, employment and ethnic relations”, others, e.g., Palat's discussion of Asian migration, cover such rapidly changing circumstances that they are new work. Similarly, Macpherson's paper on Pacific Island's identity and community can be read alongside his two papers in the earlier volumes, rather than replacing them.

The volume includes papers which are extremely useful surveys, written from clearly articulated theoretical positions, such as Spoonley's on the racialisation of work, or Pearson's concluding reflections critically comparing “multiculturalisms”, as well as papers with more limited subject matter and in-depth and often provocative discussion. The papers by Reilly and Te Ahu Poata-Smith, on revisioning history and Maori protests, fall into the latter mould—both are models of clarity which refuse simplistic constructs. Mahuta's brief description of Waikato-Tainui's carefully articulated plans and aspirations contrasts markedly with his account of the vagaries of government programmes.

Pakeha identity politics (Bell), and gender and ethnicity (Larner) both come in for welcome and thoughtful considerations, while Treaty policy (Kelsey), a possible Maori criminal justice system (Tauri), Maori education (G. and L. Smith) and the role of news media (McGregor and Te Awa) are all subjected to sustained critique.

Most papers are prefaced with reference to the rapid changes in political and economic philosophy and practice in Aotearoa/New Zealand in the last decade, with the concomitant changes in the social fabric of New Zealand and its relationships to the rest of the world. The influence of global markets, changed patterns of immigration and internal economic upheavals on identity politics and racism is - 103 examined in many different contexts. An overall impression from the collection as a whole is of the force and pervasiveness of this general change which permeates and overshadows specific initiatives towards autonomy and justice.

There are other common threads, too. Several writers are at pains to avoid essentialist or dichotomist analyses, preferring to acknowledge cross-cutting identities and positionalities, critiquing “culture”, aware of the possible loss of political clout that such analyses may entail. There is also a recurring theme of caution, particularly in those papers which deal with aspects of the State in relation to Maori. While development and further exploration of Maori forms of education and criminal justice mechanisms are enjoined, we are warned that other changes, such as the wholesale reform of education, or impoverishment of Maori owing to labour market changes may have more far-reaching effects. In addition, state colonisation of Maori life forms is an ever present reality, as is the likelihood of a shifting of blame and responsibility.

The book is attractively produced with a striking cover featuring Gordon Walter's “Tama”. While the volume has its distant ancestry in a Sociology Conference, the contributors come from a wide range of social science and law backgrounds. The book should have cross-disciplinary appeal to those involved in research and education at the tertiary level.

An anthropological audience might look for more detailed ethnographic evidence than the book portrays. Spoonley's use of his own and colleagues research into work in Maori communities in Hawkes Bay is an example of successful integration of detailed community-level work with a more broad-brush approach (pp. 70-73). Other survey-style papers could have benefited from the same multi-level approach.

I have two minor quibbles. The order of co-editors is inconsistent between the title page and the cover. References are listed under chapter numbers at the end of the book, but chapter numbers are not used in the body of the text or in running headings. This caused me some delay in looking up sources.

WESSEN, Albert F. (ed.), Antony Hooper, Judith Huntsman, Ian A.M. Prior and Clare E. Salmond: Migration and Health in a Small Society: The Case of Tokelau. Oxford Research Monographs on Human Population Biology, No.8. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992. xiv + 446 pp. apps, figs, glossary, maps, plates, tables, n.p. (cloth)
CHRISTOPHER PRYCE University of Auckland

In the 1960s, people from the tiny Polynesian atoll of Tokelau began migrating to the multicultural Westernised society of New Zealand. This book describes the daily lives and health of these migrants, their non-migrant kin, and their respective descendants. It is based on the Tokelau Island Migrant Study (TIMS), the ongoing research programme conducted by anthropologists, epidemiologists and sociologists - 104 in Tokelau and New Zealand between the early 1960s and the late 1980s. The authors, who were the principal researchers on TIMS, describe the rationale and findings of their respective efforts in tremendous and vivid detail.

TIMS was a longitudinal study with two agendas. The epidemiologists wanted to study the health consequences of movement from an isolated traditional island society to modern, urbanised Western communities. On the other hand, the anthropologists wanted to study the effects of migration upon the culture and society of Tokelau. In addition, a third, sociological/psychological agenda, aimed at gaining insights into the experience and health consequences of migration at the individual level, was included. The latter was envisaged as bridging the epidemiologists' insights into patterns of disease among migrant Tokelauans and the anthropologists' insights into their socio-cultural dynamics. What TIMS achieved is: (1) ethnographic and historical understanding of traditional Tokelauan society, including values, social structure and institutions, and the effects of modernisation upon these in the atoll; (2) ethnographic understanding of the migrant communities in New Zealand, notably the acculturation of traditional Tokelauan culture and assimilation of New Zealand culture; (3) long-term epidemiological insight into the health effects (“risk factors”) of migration from a traditional to an urbanised lifestyle and subsequent acculturation, among a small and relatively homogeneous population; (4) long-term epidemiological insight into the health effects of “modernisation” among the non-migrant atoll dwellers; (5) psychological insight into the stresses of migration and acculturation experienced by individual Tokelauan men and women as a consequence of their life-style decisions. The above achievements are all important and would, in themselves, constitute ample justification for their joint publication. However, it is in the cross-disciplinary integration of these lines of evidence for the relationship between migration and health in a small society that the strength of TIMS and this book is most pronounced.

In anthropological terms, the evidence for and against overall acculturation and assimilation of Tokelauan migrants and their children in New Zealand is interesting. From the viewpoint of epidemiology, the opportunity to monitor a small and genetically quite homogeneous population in terms of their health as they became exposed to a new environment is important, both for the Tokelauan migrants specifically, and for the understanding of disease aetiology generally. Migration is an individual experience, and in this respect it is not obviously amenable to study via the traditional methods of either anthropology or epidemiology. However, the TIMS research team and authors modified their methods to allow them to study migration as an individual experience: each Tokelauan's decision to migrate and experience of migration will be determined in part by Tokelauan values and society and the individual's perception of these values and his/her status in that society. These latter factors, in turn, will influence each migrant's ability to cope with the changes which await them. TIMS, and this comprehensive summary of its findings, provides extensive evidence for this causal chain and for the need for an interdisciplinary approach to understanding the relationships between the human behaviour of migration and its consequences for health.