Limelight, Living Heroes & League

Nadine Hura author of Slowing the Sun joined us for the Dunedin Writers & Readers Festival this year. If you don’t follow Nadine’s blog you should subscribe immediately!

With a careful and considered lens, Nadine observed our festival as a participant and as an audience member. She took our whānau focussed vibe seriously and we were honoured to have one of the stars of her book with us – her mum.

We are thrilled to have Nadine’s reflection of our festival to share with you. Kā nui te mihi e mareikura Nadine.

The theme of the Dunedin Readers and Writers' Festival this year was Ahi Kaa, but it wasn't a metaphorical nod, the festival literally did take the pōwhiri and opening night event to the ahi burning at the front of Ōtakou marae, a full hour from the city in the grey light of the day's end. It was stunning in every way. I was so nervous for the reading I was meant to share, alongside some of my actual living heroes (Tāme Iti, Api Taylor, Ati Teepa, the whānau of Hone Tūwhare), I was sure I wouldn’t be able to eat. But then I saw the kai: plates the size of small continents piled to the heavens with boil-up and salads and tītī, breads and seafood chowder to drown in. My nerves failed to suppress the appetite of my eyes and by the time I sat down to listen I was woozy with satisfaction.

I had prepared to read the prologue of my book - essentially a straight journal entry from Matariki morning 2024 when hautapu celebrations were held in Te Waipounamu. It felt like a close physical connection between the haukāinga and my book. Matariki-heri-kai (Matariki-brings-food) was the theme for the celebrations that year, and I remember listening to the karakia from under my duvet, shivering with comfort, imagining the whānau up there on on the tip of Treble Cone in Wānaka, close enough to feel the stars breathing.

But when you're thinking about what to read you always need to be able to change tack at a moment's notice. That is especially true if you're following Victor Roger. Victor is magnetic. He stood at the lectern and called his Grandmother into the room, recounting how her love for him could be measured in 12 secret herbs and spices, a chicken drumstick and a thigh in a red and white striped box while everyone else carried plastic lunchboxes. What is home if not a full belly? The crowd, who were likely by then thinking about seconds, were delighted.

If Matariki-heri-kai wasn't tohu enough, "KFC chicken thigh" certainly was. I got up and read my barely-edited, semi-slapstick zine about wishing your partner's eyes would flame with desire for you, the same way his eyes light up for a plate of pāua. The title of the poem is also the punchline: "Maybe he's only into me 'cos I'm named after a potato?"

I mean, what is ahi kaa if not laughter?

I was in two other events. The first one  was Books of Mana with the formidable trio of thinkers and activators Jeanette Wikaira, Jacinta Ruru and Angela Wanhalla. In prepping for the event, I came to think of “Mana” as ‘reverence.’ The featured authors and publishers were very often motivated not by status or a desire to be recognised as an authority, rather, they were motivated very often by service, love and duty. As a zine-maker, Books of Mana pays homage to all the Māori writers and publishers who have been taking the printing press into their own hands since 1815.

The second event was a conversation with my old mate Meteria Stanton-Turei - we used to appear on the parenting panel together on the Good Morning show in the early 2000s. Meteria was such a beautiful facilitator, asking incredibly thoughtful questions about Slowing the Sun that allowed me to go in all kinds of directions before looping back. It was probably one of the most comfortable interviews I’ve had about the book so far and I loved it.

If all this looks glamorous, I get it. I feel it/felt it, too. But the festival made everyone feel special. From the moment we were picked up at the airport, to the two extra unplanned days following multiple flight cancellations. Nothing ever felt too hard. There was a zine making space and a knitting corner and book binding stall. I propped Mum up with all the other crafters for several hours knitting and she was taken care of so I could just get about socialising. I can’t explain what a difference this kind of attention - including the focus on accessibility - makes to a person’s festival experience.

But honestly, the really special moments often come when you're away from the limelight. Meeting Ryan Bodman, who's award winning book about Rugby League (also published by BWB) was nothing short of profound. You wouldn't believe how much our research and kaupapa shared in common - climate change and rugby league? How? I guess it all depends on the lens you take, and both Ryan and I have been drawn to document the stories and voices of so-called 'ordinary people'. We ended up standing on a street corner one block down from the Octogan for half an hour. We were talking about how 'not being seen' can manifest as a pain you have to carry. If you didn't know you needed a book about Rugby League in your life, now you do - and isn’t that what book festivals are all about?

Ka nui rawa taku mihi ki ngā kaiwhakahaere!