The magpies are behaving strangely
Things are rough out here in the arts at the moment but one ray of sunshine is that kaituhi Maori (Maori writers) are absolutely nailing it. Cassie Hart (Kai Tahu, Makaawhio) was awarded a place in the prestigious Te Papa Tupu mentoring programme and the result, from premiere Maori publishing house Huia Publishers, is the horror novel Butcherbird. (A butcherbird is a carnivorous blackand-white songbird similar to a magpie.)
Jena’s grandmother, Rose, is dying. After 20 years in exile, Jena returns to the Taranaki family farm where as a child she survived a horrific fire in which her parents and siblings died. There she finds Will,
Rose’s live-in carer, with whom she immediately butts heads. It’s a horror novel so you know things are only going to get worse and indeed they soon do: the magpies are behaving strangely, Will has a hidden agenda, Rose is keeping secrets about what really happened with the fire, and The Dark Man (Jena’s childhood bogeyman) might not be so made-up after all.
It’s a gripping and well-paced pakimaero (novel), with enough dark comedy to leaven the ratcheting dread. (Readers should also be aware that Butcherbird contains scenes of rape and other intimate partner violence.)
Hart is an experienced writer of speculative fiction and her treatment of the supernatural elements is one of my favourite things about the book. Rose is a Pakeha immigrant of Celtic heritage who, like the magpies, has come to Aotearoa from Australia. There’s a definite sense that Rose has brought some kinds of magic, both light and dark, with her. Hart never explains this fully and Butcherbird is the better for it.
Te ao Maori is also a constant background presence. Taranaki, the maunga, presides over the whole pakimaero. “The sun seemed to have burned away the late afternoon clouds and the mountain stood before [Will], a cloak of snow around his shoulders. He was magnificent. And Will couldn’t help but feel like, somehow, Taranaki was scowling at him.”
As with so many pukapuka (books) from Huia Publishers, Butcherbird has a superb design. The cover is of a lime green so fluorescent that it seems to give off an eldritch glow — I could see the green reflected on the skin of my hands as I read. It feels like the warning at the beginning of all good horror stories: the kind you know you will ignore.