Maybe there is the dance, as she says. Creation and change, destruction and change.
New marae from the old marae, a beginning from the end.
His mind weaves it into a spiral fretted with stars.
He holds out his hand, and it is gently taken.
It almost seems impossible that I should write of Keri Hulme. I have no special claim on her, and she is god-like in my pantheon – a wizard with words, weaver of magic – I had no idea what language could do until I read her. ButthenIdidreadherwork, over and over, and that changed everything. She initiated me into the mysteries that words contain, the way meaning can be made from sound and rhythm and shape. As far as my reading takes me, I’ve enjoyed everything Keri wrote: her poems, short stories, articles, even online comments. If I didn’t understand or agree with something, I still enjoyed being in the company of her voice that changed my life profoundly.
