By Barbara Else
Vintage, NZ$28 | Reviewed by Diane Spodarek

Wild Latitudes, Barbara Else’s sixth novel, is a first-person narrative told by Adele, an 18-year-old girl from England who finds herself a castaway on a beach in New Zealand in the 19th century. The story is told from a much older voice reflecting on how she was able to survive. Adele is a beautiful virgin with “corn-silk” hair, and highly educated. She knows how to catch fish and understands that the silver fern she finds, which she uses to cover up her torn undergarments, are sacred to the natives of that land. She soon discovers she is not the only white inhabitant on the island when she comes upon Scottish seal-hunters camping by a fire and waits until they are asleep to steal food, drink and a seal skin to cover herself.

When the burly men discover her, they are fearful she could be a Selkie because of her sealskin (these are not very bright men) and demand to know her name. She tells them she is Sorrow and this saves her from rape and other unspeakable acts. Sorrow joins the hunters at their camp becoming a hunter too, (this should have been a hint that she was no Selkie). She clubs the seals to death, reluctantly:

“I hated this activity, but that hate propelled me further. I too struck young and tender, weak and small. Blood splashed the club up to my wrist and spattered my bodice. Great sobs of outrage forced me on like some strong engine outrage at this necessity. For I was castaway and penniless and, however she may in this harsh world, a woman must earn a living.”

One night Sorrow wakes to her first sight of Maoris on their own land. She was already familiar with Maoris since she had the opportunity to have a conversation with a “Maori gentleman” on the ship, the “Yorkshire Witch.” At first she was frightened by the tattooed faces. After gathering her composure, she describes their nakedness without using the words “breasts” and “penis”:

“Her cloak opened as she knelt. I reminded myself not to be amazed at the sight of what is commonly all but revealed by evening gowns in high society and what, I, myself, had revealed that first night upon this island. Still upon my sealskin couch, I glanced away from her and up, but my composure was again rattled by the garb of one of the men: that is to say, his lack of garb. It was from this, then, that Davy shielded me! As I had seen all and more in the countryside of Yorkshire, I was not long unsettled. However, I rose from my pallet in order to keep my eyes averted from the spectacle.”

Adele remembers the Maori children as “...healthy, alert, mischievous and loved as all children ought to be.” The Maoris offer to take her to a more civil, European, environment, and she begins a three-day canoe trip to Dunedin. It’s the gold rush. And this is all in the first chapter.

Else writes tongue-in-cheek, switching voices from Sorrow’s present self to her younger self, constantly reminding us how superior, beautiful and clever she is. At times she interrupts her own narrative to give back-story or additional facts, which can distract from the immediate drama.

Esle says this novel is her exploration of how the early European settlers in New Zealand survived. She wanted the novel to be about “traditional family roles and the strategies our pioneer ancestors used to preserve convention – and even to invent it – in new and dangerous circumstances.” Although it lacks the sophistication and depth of a mid-nineteenth century Henry James or stories by the Bronte sisters, “Wild Latitudes” may appeal to those who enjoy historical fiction with a bit of Fabio thrown in.

Or Tennessee Williams. The second chapter opens with: “I survived on the kindness of strangers.” This well-known line was said by Blanche in “A Streetcar Named Desire.” Williams may not have invented the line, but the use of it is one of the most well known in modern drama. He won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama for this play in 1948. Is Barbara Else stealing the line for the voice of the 18-year-old naive virgin? Or, is it the voice of the more knowing older woman looking back on her 1860’s adventures? Or, is it for the amusement of today’s reader? All are possible.

Here is a passage from chapter two where Adele remembers the kindness of one stranger, with her ongoing comparison of life before and after England, reminding the reader again of her beauty and social standing:

“The farmer’s wife, who in Edinburgh had been a skivvy, was delighted to receive unpaid help while she recovered from the birth of her first child. I was delighted to free myself thoroughly at last from the lice and fleas that had beset me since a few days after the Witch departed Clyde: vermin pay no heed to social standing. And the stage of my hair was soon improved near its earlier glory, though I kept it hidden underneath a woollen shawl in order not to outshine my benefactress.”

A beautiful, young, virginal, white chick survives by her intelligence, loyalty to family values and conventionality. She’s like a nineteenth century Paris Hilton in a TV reality show (minus the virginity and the TV). Wild Latitudes is perfect Christian Fiction genre. The values are the same as those preached by members of the Destiny Church, and other religious-right groups. Else is very clever with her parody and tongue-in-cheek voice, and anyone who can justify violence and describe breasts and a penis without actually using the words is proof of that. Sometimes the intention behind Adele’s story gets a little lost, but judge for yourself. Else is to be congratulated for telling a story of adventure from a girl’s point of view about nineteenth century New Zealand. It will continue to surprise you with each chapter. And, if you think a girl’s point of view is too girlie, keep reading, her younger brother was on another ship and he will turn up soon, doubling the intrigue and fun of the misadventures.