The Last Days of
the National Costume
by Anne Kennedy (Allen & Unwin 2013)
The
theme of deconstruction seems to be prevalent in the NZ books I’ve been reading
lately. Sarkies and Jones both had
elements of deconstruction, last week it was Pip Adam’s buildings and this week
it’s Anne Kennedy’s frock. Not just any old
frock, Kennedy’s main character GoGo is mending an Irish dancing dress while
thinking about Derrida (amongst other things).
The frock, transported from Ireland, and ripped and repaired in New
Zealand, is a symbol of postcolonial (de)construction.
The novel is set during the 1998
blackout in Auckland. I wasn’t in New
Zealand at the time of the blackout - I was living in London, attending Riverdance, and wondering whether I had inherited dancing genes from
an Irish ancestor because I never know what to do with my arms while dancing - in other words, I was on my big OE (de)constructing my national identity. So I was oblivious
to the blackout in our biggest city. Kennedy
describes living in Auckland without electricity and the effect it has on the
city, and the individuals in it.
Everyday chores are cumbersome because of the lack of power, but within
this lack there is a latent potential.
As GoGo’s husband, Art, walks home on the first day of the blackout he
is taken by the wonder of the city without power. This wonder is explored throughout the novel
by GoGo as she hand sews an Irish dancing dress while listening to its owner
tell the story of the dress’s journey to New Zealand.
While GoGo mends clothes from their
villa in Auckland, her husband Art is studying for his PhD in Settler Literary
Ephemera. There is quite a bit of
literary academic discourse throughout the novel related to Derrida (GoGo and
Art first meet attending a Derrida Down Under speaking tour) and other
postcolonial theorists. While I’m not
familiar with all the theorists I think mentioning them so explicitly points to
the idea of (de)constructing national identity, as well as asking what
constitutes settler culture. At one
point GoGo attends a party where other people are wearing examples of national
costumes and GoGo realises that she has no such garment to wear.
Class is also a prevalent theme in
the novel. Art and GoGo are what I would
call middle class boho chic; twenty-somethings who are asset poor but educationally
rich and dabbling in socialism. While
they don’t appear to have a lavish lifestyle, Art’s parents are well to-do and
there is an understanding that Art will inherit a rather comfortable sum one
day. They also live rent free (courtesy of
Art’s parents), and GoGo’s sewing brings in an income but not one they have to
rely on. While GoGo pronounces that
she’s not materialist, she is doing quite nicely from her in-laws wealth. This contradiction is played out in the novel.
Initially I struggled with GoGo’s
characterisation. At first I thought she
was a lot older than her 26 years but I got over that relatively easily because
the first person narration (which sometimes slides into second) builds an easy
and intimate rapport with the reader. GoGo’s
viewpoint on materialism and education is initially naïve and I found that a
bit annoying which is probably a reflection of my working class background
where tertiary education was not a given, but I came to like GoGo as I watched
her grow, and I believe Kennedy has presented GoGo’s views for them to be
challenged.
While I have been referencing the
postcolonial, class and education aspects of the novel, it is also about
relationships, what marriage is and what love means, and what you can get away
with when the lights go out.
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