We feature each week Nicholas Reid's reviews and comments on new and recent books
“NEW ZEALAND’S LONDON -
A Colony and its Metropolis” by Felicity Barnes (Auckland University
Press, $NZ49:99)
I recognise
a trend when I spot one, and it would be very hard not to spot a major trend
currently in full flight in New Zealand historiography and literary history.
Up until
the mid-twentieth century New Zealand’s (Pakeha) culture was subserviently
colonial. Britain was the Mother Country. Indeed it was still called “Home”,
even by many of the New Zealand-born. Our history books told of a benevolent
colonial power that civilized the Maori people smoothly, despite unfortunate
things like the 1860s wars. Real literature was written in Britain.
Then there
was the reaction, first from imaginative writers in the 1930s (Curnow,
Fairburn, Sargeson etc.), then from historians in the 1950s (Oliver, Sinclair
etc.). New Zealand was now seen in “nationalist” terms as a country struggling
to assert its own identity and no longer essentially British, even if (in
economic terms) New Zealand still depended mainly on exports of primary produce
to Britain.
I think
this was the intellectual atmosphere in which I grew up. New Zealand was
routinely celebrated as a distinct and independent culture with historical links
to Britain, but not essentially British itself. Histories were written to show
how soon and how assertively New Zealanders thought of themselves as New
Zealanders first and British only second. Social laboratory of the world. First
country to give women the vote. Proven to be better soldiers than poor weedy
Brits at Gallipoli. Egalitarian and not tied to British notions of class.
Anyone could play rugby in New Zealand, not just the snotty boys from “public”
schools, as in England.
We were
Kiwis, not Poms.
Thus in
Keith Sinclair’s A Destiny Apart
(1986). Thus in Ron Palenski’s The Making
if New Zealanders (2012 – look up my
review via index at right).
And, of
course, part of the “nationalist” construction said that real New Zealand
literature began only in the 1930s, when the colonial cultural cringe was being
shucked off.
This was
more or less orthodoxy for half a century. But in the last couple of decades
it’s been challenged to the point where a new orthodoxy is now establishing
itself.
Rather than
showing how much New Zealanders struggled for a distinctive identity, the trend
now is to show how, right up to the 1960s, New Zealanders revelled in their
Britishness. Rather than a “nationalist” view of New Zealand’s past, we now
have the view that New Zealand saw itself as on the periphery of the British
world, with London as its true metropolis. Thus there was Jamie Belich’s
“re-colonisation” thesis. Thus Jane
Stafford’s and Mark Williams’ Maoriland
(2006) challenged the view that “real” New Zealand literature began in the
1930s. They saw merit in much that was written before then, even if it was
often Anglo-centric. And, you might recall, just two weeks back on this blog I
was considering the book of essays Far
From ‘Home’, which took seriously the Englishness of immigrants to New
Zealand (look up my review via index at
right).
Here, then,
is the trend in plain sight – to see Pakeha New Zealanders up to the 1960s as a
sub-set of Britons.
Felicity
Barnes’ New Zealand’s London is
definitely a symptom of this trend, as its descriptive subtitle makes clear
- A
Colony and its Metropolis.
Across
nearly 300 well-illustrated pages, New
Zealand’s London chronicles the way London dominated New Zealand’s literary
culture, was the most desired overseas tourist destination for New Zealanders,
was regarded by New Zealanders as the touchstone of value and authority, and
haunted New Zealanders’ dreams - right up to the 1960s.
Barnes’
introduction specifically acknowledges, and then rejects, the “nationalist”
school of Sinclair. She embraces Belich’s view that New Zealand was
progressively “recolonised” after 1882, when refrigeration allowed primary
produce (meat and dairy) to reach London. New Zealand became, in effect,
London’s farming “hinterland” and felt its dependence in every aspect of its
life. (As the acknowledgements show, Belich supervised the doctoral thesis from
which this book was developed).
Barnes
declares:
“New Zealand at the turn of the twentieth
century no longer needed to see itself as separated from the centre by time and
space, nor did it want to be defined by colonial characteristics. Instead it
used London to pull off a complex manoeuvre in self-imaging. New Zealand had
become technologically and socially modern, without becoming ‘industrialised’.
Nor was it urban: despite the rapid rise of urban dwellers from the close of
the nineteenth century, the country preferred to imagine itself as rural. But
New Zealand did not entirely lack metropolitan sophistication or culture as a result.
Like any other hinterland, New Zealand accessed these through the metropolis.
For New Zealand, real urban life was located in London.” (Pgs.9-10)
Following
this line, Barnes’ first three chapters deal with how New Zealanders actually
experienced London once they got there.
The
writings of breathless tourists like Ian Donnelly and Alan Mulgan in the 1920s
and 1930s (Chapter One) suggest that literate New Zealanders were inclined to
view London in terms of the cultural and literary sites they had been brought
up reading about. Between the wars, visiting New Zealanders “constructed”
London as they had been cued to do since childhood. The role of New Zealand
House on the Strand is explored (Chapter Two). It was as much a conduit for New
Zealanders wanting tickets to official events and receptions as it was an
agency promoting trade and commerce.
Barnes
recounts the paradoxical “tourist” experience of New Zealand soldiers in London
during the First World War. White “colonial” soldiers, she shows, were more
highly regarded, and more protected, than coloured soldiers from India. But
there was much official anxiety about Australian, Canadian and New Zealand
troops succumbing to London’s thriving prostitution and vice. The result was a
host of official and semi-official initiatives to keep those soldiers on leave
busy with guided tours of museums, churches, monuments and so forth. Barnes
sees this as the origin of self-consciously ‘cultural’ tourism, which only
later became affordable to the mass of New Zealand civilians.
Countering
the Gallipoli myth of the First World War as a promoter of New Zealand “nationalism”, she notes that
most New Zealand soldiers served on the Western Front. London was the obvious
magnet of their leave-time, so the war had the effect of binding Kiwis even
more closely to the metropolis.
Barnes is
at her most paradoxical in the third chapter, where she opines that as a very
young colony in its earliest days of Pakeha settlement, New Zealand was “old”
in the sense of being technologically more backward than England was. But as
New Zealand farming developed according to the best scientific methods, British
farming began to look “old” to New Zealanders. Visiting England thus became a
way of touching “quaint” ancestral roots. New Zealanders came to know English
plumbing and English standards of hygiene as inferior to their New Zealand
equivalents, but they still idealised rural England as they had been taught to
by prints of the paintings of Constable and others. They were “portable icons” (Pg.77) for both
city-dwellers and colonials imagining an impossible pastoral past.
Barnes
considers in detail (Chapter 4) those interwar New Zealand writers who made it
to London, whether they stayed there (like Katherine Mansfield), or became toadies
of the social pages (like Hector Bolitho) or were impressed by the metropolis
in spite of themselves (like Mander, Sargeson, Fairburn and Ngaio Marsh). As
she remarks:
“White colonial writers were not, as
postcolonialists might describe them, mimics of the centre acting as
ventriloquists of a culture that did not belong to them. Instead they were
active participants in this culture they felt was theirs too. This is a
challenge to the theoretical assumptions of postcolonialism, but it offers
interesting possibilities for metropolitan literary histories. For example,
colonial writers may have had their part to play in the democratisation of
literary culture, a feature of cultural life in the interwar metropolis.”
(Pg.121)
By this
last remark, she means that colonials finding their way into London literary
circles were at one with the more middle-class and working-class British
writers who were now gaining entrée there.
The
chapters on New Zealand’s place in London international exhibitions and in marketing
campaigns both emphasise that New Zealand officials consciously set out to
differentiate New Zealand from the “non-white” parts of the British Empire.
They wished to present New Zealand as ultra-British. New Zealand dairy products
and meat were “Produced by Britons for
British Homes”.
In her last
three chapters, Barnes moves away from New Zealanders in London and considers
the impact London had on New Zealanders in New Zealand itself. Sometimes the
modish Gramsci-an term “hegemony”
crops up as she relates how, right up to the mid-twentieth century, New Zealand
publishing and the distribution of magazines in New Zealand were both dominated
by English companies and distributors. Cable meant direct links to Britain for
New Zealand newspapers so that “news was
read in metropolitan time”. There was the odd fact that when Hollywood
began to produce movies with British settings, they emphasised exactly those
same cultural icons that had been put together by New Zealanders for their
idealised version of what London was. England was the white cliffs of Dover,
Big Ben, St Paul’s cathedral etc. When the Luftwaffe Blitzed London in the
Second World War, New Zealanders read reports that played up the damage to
those very sites with which New Zealanders were most familiar.
The book
fades out with considerations of the “reach” of British travelogues on New
Zealand, and of the way New Zealand television schedules until the 1970s
privileged British programmes over American ones.
Let me say
quite simply that this book makes a very good case for New Zealand’s, up until
the 1960s, being a cultural colony of Britain and seeing London as its capital
rather than Wellington.
Its main
deficiency, as I see it, is a certain repetitiveness in the chapters about the
British marketing of New Zealand produce. They rather labour a simple point in
their exhaustive documentation, as if the spirit of the academic thesis has not
quite been purged from this book. I am also surprised that Barnes does not
consider in more detail the phenomenon of young post-Second World War New
Zealanders (and Australians) doing their OE in London. Surely there were many
survivors of this phenomenon who could have been interviewed? I think I’m right
in saying that the name Earl’s Court isn’t once invoked. The thesis on which
this book is based had a terminus ad quem
of 1940, but then the book goes beyond this in its account of New Zealand TV
schedules, so the young OE Kiwis could easily have fitted both its theme and
its time-frame.
New Zealand’s London is an excellent
example of the “periphery” view of an earlier New Zealand. If I have not made
plain the reading interest of its host of anecdotes and illustrations, it is
simply that I have not had the time or space to cite them all.
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