—Josh Bazell, Beat the Reaper
Copperfield's Books: After the success of Moloka'i, how was it to write Honolulu?
Alan Brennert: It was gratifying to know that there was a potential readership out there receptive to stories based in Hawaiian history, but at the same time I was very conscious of wanting this novel to stand apart from Moloka’i.
I wasn’t interested in repeating what I’d done in the previous novel, I wanted to add to it—and since Moloka'i was told primarily from the Native Hawaiian point of view, the immigrant perspective seemed a natural complement.
CB: Both the protagonists in Moloka'i and Honolulu are women. You do an excellent job portraying their perspectives—their voices feel authentic. What tools do you use to enter the mind of these women from different cultures and times in history?
AB: To me the two most important tools for a writer of historical fiction are empathy and research. Jin’s childhood issues—of feeling homely and out of place—are certainly ones I could identify with myself (boys can feel that way too, growing up) and which are fairly universal. People do feel the same emotions the world over, and that’s essential, of course, to making a reader connect with a character; but just as interesting, I find, are the differences, the particulars of a character’s time and place and culture. I try to make these as specific and accurate as possible, but unless a writer has grown up in that culture, you simply have to immerse yourself in everything you can read on the subject in search of specificities that add flavor, texture, and dimension. A young girl growing up in America in the 1900s might share Regret’s desire to read and be educated, but it’s the cultural impediments to this in Korea—and the solution, in the form of Evening Rose’s tutelage, along with the irony that a woman of the lowest status is allowed the most education—that I think enriches a narrative.
CB: In both Moloka'i and Honolulu, there is a distinct leaning toward explaining/representing the experiences of native Hawaiians, and it's fascinating and refreshing to hear. Have you been able to visit Hawaii and/or cultivate relationships with native Hawaiians?
AB: I do have some friends of Native Hawaiian heritage, and partly because of that I felt it was important to acknowledge that Hawai'i’s multicultural society, as unique and wonderful as it is, was achieved at a cost, and that cost was to Native Hawaiians—whose country, after all, it was originally. That’s why Queen Lili'uoklani is in the book. She’s one of only two characters who also appeared in Moloka'i—the other is Governor Lawrence Judd—and I included her in Honolulu both to complete the narrative “arc” begun with her overthrow in Moloka'i, as well as a kind of grace note, displaying her dignity and pride even in face of the loss of her kingdom, something Hawaiians have lived with for the past hundred years.
CB: Whereas Moloka'i focused on the native Hawaiian experience, the story of Honolulu portrays the immigrant experience in Hawaii—it tells the story of Jin, a “picture bride” from Korea. Honolulu opens in Korea, and the reader is presented with a glimpse into the life of Korean women 100 years ago. What was compelling for you about Korea and the Korean experience in Hawaii?
AB: I became fascinated by the role of women in Korean society; it was probably a more oppressive environment for women than in any other Asian culture of the time. It wasn’t hard to see why so many women jumped at the chance to become picture brides: to gain a degree of freedom and adventure in their lives that they might never have experienced had they stayed in Korea. It struck me as an ideal motivation for my protagonist—and then of course as soon as she arrived in Honolulu, all those expectations would be rudely dashed when she met her husband-to-be. Once I had those two elements joined in my mind, I knew I had the alloy of a story, a novel.
CB: You deftly weave historical figures with your fictional ones. In Honolulu, Jin encounters numerous people who eventually become key historical players. At what point in the writing process do you introduce an historical character? What comes first: the historical characters or the narrative?
AB: The narrative always comes first, though in this case I knew from the start that I wanted to include Chang Apana because he was just such an amazing historical character—not just because he inspired Charlie Chan. Then when I came across May Thompson, who also has a fictional “descendant,” I began to think, Hmm, I may have a theme emerging here...
Hawaiian history is full of very rich, interesting characters, most of whom are relatively unknown to the general public. In writing Moloka'i, my ambition was to give voice to people whose voices had been largely lost to time. In Honolulu I’ve tried to do something similar, shedding light on many of the actual people—Chang Apana, Joseph Kahahawai, Duke Kahanamoku—whose lives have made Hawai'i the place I know and love today.