The Charm Buyers
Lisa Patten
The Charm Buyers
In The
Charm Buyers, Lillian Howan weaves multiple themes together to create a
complex tapestry of memory, magic, and the meanings of love and truth, all set
in a rich tropical environment of fevers and dreams.
Historical
memory provides a central undercurrent of the book, influencing the plot and
relationships. Throughout much of the
book, this shared memory is not directly named, but is instead shown through
dialogue, relationships and plot detail.
The book is set in the final years of exclusive French rule in French
Polynesia, at a time when the French, Polynesian and Chinese cultures shared a
complicated coexistence, marked by economic and political disparities, and an
acceleration of nuclear weapons testing by the French. Significantly, the book concludes in 1996 --
the landmark year when France’s nuclear testing finally ended in compliance
with the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty.
Subsequently, just seven years later exclusive French rule would be
dissembled and French Polynesia became a French overseas collectivity. When the
book ends in 1996, both the book and the country are left at the threshold of
transformative change and an unknown future.
Yet
without an in-depth knowledge of the socio-political history of French
Polynesia, it becomes difficult to develop a meaningful analysis of the ways in
which historical memory drive and inform the book. Instead, we can look at the Marc Chen’s
relationship to some of the central themes of the book and suggest ways in
which his evolution may reflect the changes going on in the country as a
whole.
A central theme of the book emphasizes
that the most important truths in life remain hidden, waiting to be discovered
by those who truly desire them and are persistent enough to find them. Like a charm hidden in a silken pouch, the
truth must be guarded and protected, and entrusted only to those who are
deserving of it.
The truths in Marc’s life – be they
emotional, cultural or socio-political – remain hidden to him. Throughout
most of the book, he is unable to hear them nor does he want to. He is too absorbed in his own life – in his social
circle, his businesses, his vanity, and overall his inherited unearned sense of
entitlement. Marc would rather listen to
the chatter of his own world than listen to the enduring timeless voices of the
land and people around him.
The significant women in Marc’s
life serve as truth-tellers throughout the book. They consistently remind him of truths that he
must learn and remember in order to thrive and live an authentic life. He is drawn to these women for reasons that
he doesn’t fully understand. In effect they
are his conscience, and are inextricably bound to him. They will continue to be present and a
powerful influence on his life whether he acknowledges them or not.
In the beginning and throughout much
of the book, Marc is oblivious to the truth.
He cannot see outside of himself, or look deeply enough to see it in
front of him. His vanity, his attitude of entitlement and just his general lack
of awareness have blinded him to love, to the reality of his crimes, and to the
socio-political state of affairs in Tahiti.
Born into wealth, Marc takes money
and the sense of entitlement it brings for granted, despite his early years
living a minimal existence with his great-grandmother. Aurore however, has had a mixed experience living
in different economic circumstances throughout her life. This exposure to many ways of life has saved
her from the more singular, myopic entitled vision of the world held by Marc, and
given her an awareness that other truths exist.
This appreciation is embodied in Aurore’s
stories about the forest, and the figures she has seen hidden there. Marc however is unimpressed by the stories,
and sees them only in terms of himself:
Has she told these stories to others?
If not, does that make him special to her? Even as she tells him these stories, which
are clearly significant to her, he is distracted by her attentions as she runs her
fingers through his hair – a symbol of vanity, and a particular source of pride
for Marc.
“Did
you tell your cousins about the forest?” I asked. “No— why should I?” She
seemed surprised by the idea, and I took it as a sign that perhaps she spoke
only to me about the forest. Aurore had a fondness for running her fingers
through my hair, and I took to cutting it less and less, to please her. She
said she liked the way my hair fell in waves
and then curled at the bottom of my neck. Like a girl, she teased me. I replied
that my sister Odile always complained that Hakka girls rarely had wavy hair—
it was something you saw on boys.
Aurore told me that once, when she was
walking alone in the forest, she saw a young girl in the distance. She and her
sister sometimes saw people in the forest and there were those who rode horses
along the paths, even though it was forbidden to do so— but she had never
encountered someone alone. She found herself approaching quietly, walking
quickly enough to draw closer but keeping herself hidden. The girl paused from
time to time and Aurore stood behind the trees. “Why did you hide?” I asked. “I had never seen her before— she
didn’t come from around where we lived— and yet she was walking like she knew
the forest. And she wasn’t old, like someone who had once lived nearby and was
returning to something familiar. She was around sixteen. I thought she was very
pretty. At first, I thought she was on her way to meet someone, but then I saw
that she was walking deeper into the forest.”
Aurore talked about the girl in the forest
only when we were alone together late at night. She told me this story many
times and sometimes I felt that there was something she was not telling me,
something important— but other times, I felt that she had told me everything
and that she herself didn’t know why she repeated this story to me over and
over again.
The ending was always the same. “I followed
her,” said Aurore. “But she was going deeper inside.”
“Why didn’t you see where she was going?” I
asked. “The forest had to end. You said it yourself: it was a real forest long ago, but only a small part of it
was left.”
“But I could be lost, following her inside.”
“You follow her and the forest ends soon
enough,” I said.
“And
you know so much about forests,” Aurore replied.
Howan, Lillian. The Charm Buyers
(p. 119). University of Hawaii Press.
Intuitively, Aurore has an
appreciation for the mystery and deep-rooted identity of Tahiti and her
people. This however is lost on Marc,
and Aurore becomes aware of their vastly different levels of awareness of the
world and of the cultural roots around them, and how that difference will ultimately
keep them apart.
Aurore continually reminds him of
the dangers of nuclear testing and how it could change their world
forever. She foresees an uncertain
future when everyone must stand up and be counted, and in which each individual’s
cultural and socio-political heritage means nothing when confronted with potential
annihilation. A break must be made from
the nuclear testing, and from the French rule which threatens the fundamental
birthright of Tahiti to remain a unique culture and autonomous nation.
Yet Marc grows weary of Aurore’s impassioned
pleas, and can’t hear her warnings. He
even comes to resent her rants, and sees them as a distraction from her
attention on him, and their time together.
Marc is still fixed in the present and in holding onto the status and
identity he has. He just can’t consider other
possibilities, or question his own assumptions.
Marc and his people don’t belong
anywhere. Even though his father
Tamerlan and other Chinese businessmen like him have established successful
businesses and become wealthy, their days at the height of Tahitian society and
economy are numbered. His family’s
wealth is largely gone, and political change is afoot.
Even A-tai was aware of this, at
least in part. In a conversation with
Marc, she states emphatically that when she dies she doesn’t want her bones to
be returned to China for burial, as is the cultural tradition. She is too far removed from her Chinese heritage
and no longer belongs there. Instead, she
asks to have her bones buried in Tahiti.
Yet as we’ve already seen in the story of Tamerlan’s struggle to bring
his father’s bones from China to Tahiti for reburial, the bones of the Chinese
people can’t last in Tahitian soil for long.
The Chinese don’t belong in Tahiti either. Although the gravesite is honored and
protected by a beautiful pavilion, the grave is eventually disrupted and bones
taken. The Chinese do not belong on Tahitian
soil.
The fact that Marc’s people have
never belonged in Tahiti is underscored when he goes to the spring late at
night to get water for A-tai, and meets a group of mysterious native women.
“It
was late at night, but a pickup truck was parked by the spring at the side of
the road. Two women sat in the back. They whistled through their teeth and
laughed as I got out of the car. “Good evening, ladies,” I said. “You thirsty?”
asked one, a white tiare in her hair. “My great-grandmother is.” They burst
into laughter and jumped out of the truck. They wore T-shirts and shorts and
their feet were bare. “After you,” I said. “But we have many bottles and you
have only one,” said the woman with the tiare. “You were here first.” “We were
here, long before you. But we can wait,” said her companion, speaking with a
strangely deep voice, her face hidden by her long hair.
Howan, Lillian. The Charm Buyers
(pp. 83-84). University of Hawaii Press.
In this dreamlike scene, the woman
with the tiare (a flower symbolic of Tahiti) in her hair represents Tahiti. Marc
has come to get water for his great grandmother – in essence to gather a life-sustaining
force from the land. The Tahitians, who
were there long before the Chinese, laugh at Marc’s apparent sense of
entitlement to their resources, and let him go first, confident that soon it
come their turn. The political tides are
changing in Tahiti, and it is only a matter of time before those with a true
birthright to the land and its resources can regain control.
Yet because
this scene appears to Marc as a dreamlike scene, he is unable to see it
clearly, and it’s meaning is lost on him.
Similarly, Mark has made assumptions about his level of entitlement
here, and it is only a matter of time before Tahiti returns to its natural
order.
Throughout the book, Marie-Laure holds
a secret love for Marc. Marc, however, often
seems oblivious to her feelings – or is at least reluctant to see them. Early on, he cannot understand why
Marie-Laure decides not to go to a dance with him, and doesn’t see that it is
because she loves him and is afraid of being compared to him and judged unattractive
and unworthy of him.
Later, Marie-Laure and Marc do develop
a relationship. Yet soon their lives must
go separate ways. Just before Marc leaves to join the French Army, he discovers
a charm that Marie-Laure has hidden in her hat hanging on the wall, and recalls
the words of his great-grandmother:
A-tai
had spoken of magical charms, things you kept hidden, things you never spoke
about. It had passed quickly— ten days, two weeks— the days with Marie-Laure.
She had slipped the charm inside the hat— to protect us, to grant us luck, good
fortune, a long life
If something is precious, keep it well
hidden. If you love someone, never speak of them. I couldn’t remember who had
said this, A-tai or one of my aunts, but it was true. There was what you
showed, how things appeared, and there was the way it really was. I could go to
the most remote island of the Tuamotus, I could go to France, but the truth
would still remain, hidden, secret, forgotten, always waiting, forever and ever
passing like a day.”
Howan, Lillian. The Charm Buyers
(p. 57-58). University of Hawaii Press.
Over the years, as their lives
converge and draw apart, Marie-Laure’s love remains constant yet she cannot openly
share it with him. In effect, he is not
ready to hear. He served time in the army,
and – resistant to joining his father’s business – he starts his own
clandestine life as a drug trader, and as Aurore’s lover. When Marie-Laure becomes ill, Marc is alarmed
and spends all of his time at her side. He is willing to do anything for her including
bargaining his soul and his future in order to bring her a cure. Strikingly though, he is unable to name this
as love for her. He continues his
relationship with Aurore, and seems oblivious to the real and potential conflicts
of leading a life dedicated to both women.
To himself, he only fully acknowledges his relationship with Aurore. He doesn’t want to give either one of them
up, yet tensions inevitably arise. Marc
and Aurore fight more often, and become alienated from one another. In the meantime, Marie-Laure has been taken
away to continue her recovery elsewhere.
In effect, Marc can’t see the truth of his relationship to either one of
them, and so ends up with neither.
By the end of
the book, Marc has been stripped of all of the things that made up his
identity. During his time in Huahine – in effect, his
time in the wilderness -- he has been forced to shed all that he has become. Reduced to extreme poverty, he is no longer
successful, no longer beautiful and no longer entitled. It is only at his humblest point that his
fates change, and he is able to return to his previous life. Now that he is no longer so full of himself,
he can pay attention to the socio-political realities developing in
Tahiti. And he can hear what Marie-Laure
has to tell him.
Once they are
reunited, it has become clearer to Marc that he and Marie-Laure belong
together. But by the end of the book, however,
it has also become clear that Marie-Laure does not belong in Tahiti. Here she is ill and feels no purpose. Tahiti
is toxic for her; whether or not it is the radiation from the French nuclear
testing that has literally made her sick, or the cultural tension and isolation
she feels as a result of her education and experience in the Western world, she
cannot stay here. She can only thrive in
another setting, and decides to go to Australia where she will be recognized
and affirmed as an educated, autonomous woman.
Out of her love for Marc, and her knowledge that he no longer belongs in
or has a role in Tahiti, Marie-Laure invites him to join her.
Marc is not
quite ready to join her though. Although
he is still somewhat oblivious as to why this is so, he does know that he needs
time. In truth, he has more growing to
do, to be able to acknowledge his feelings for her, and to uncover his own
truth and purpose. And so, at the end of
the book, he must move forward into an unknown future. After seeing Marie-Laure’s flight take off
for Australia, he walks off alone into the dark.
I really liked what you said about magic in this book symbolizing the truths of the world that are hidden until you develop the courage and perseverance to seek them out. I'm wondering how you perceived the end of the book, whether it was satisfying for you? I also was never really sure personally that Marc and Marie-Laure do belong together, and I'm not sure that I agree that the author was saying that--I sort of think it's so easy to want a fairy tale romantic ending or some sort of lasting romance, but neither of the romances that Marc engages in here really seemed good for him, at least to me.
ReplyDeleteDo you think that Marie-Laure and Aurore relate to each other at all, or are speaking similar things?
-Ari