Volcanic Craters, Vents and Steam
4.5 stars
Hawai’i, not as typically pictured – yes there are trailing bougainvillea flowers, plumeria trees and the distant sound of surf – however this story is more hard scrabble, sharp lava shards, steam vents and cinder cones of the Volcanoes National Park; the island of Hawai’i, not Oahu or Kawai’i. Salt winds and sulfur, not trade winds. Be prepared to sweat with this one. Different from the rest of his work, no ‘curated’ surfaces or designed spaces here (curated seems to be Moore’s favorite word); even different from his more recent ‘Beach Secrets’ series, which seem to fulfill our summer fantasies of hot beach and cool water; we are exploring lava tubes and volcanic steam vents, and the steam between men. Cargo shorts and thick hiking boots, not flip flops and trunks; bring water and musubi, from Auntie’s cart behind the gas station, for nourishment, you might need it.
– Riley, mainland journalist/photographer has studied for weeks to get this right, a story on environmental stresses, the divide between land management and protected cultural lands, a last ditch effort to please his editor and salvage his career. He is running from the stresses of deadlines and career, the expectations of the editor, like the parental expectations he can never seem to meet; he is professional, experienced, but put upon, by others and most certainly by himself; however, he is not beaten. He has the best and costliest equipment, months of salary-worth, and he sets off to capture the truth of environmental impact on the land, and runs afoul of the park ranger for flying his drone camera over ‘kepu’ sacred land, ‘forbidden’ land. Keoni is older, bigger, formidable as the land itself, a guardian as much as a ranger, inheriting his legacy charge from his grandfather, who taught him to listen to the land, it’s rumblings and sacred rhythms, a legacy he takes seriously.
– A minor confrontation between these two men (not seriously ‘enemies’ but more circling adversaries) begins our story; the two retreat but are aware of each other, and there is more electricity than is easily explained away, by either man. Riley researches the ranger, finding out his name and duties, and files all required permits to wrangle a multiple-day tour from Keoni to areas not normally seen by haoles (mainlanders). He requests Keoni teach him to ‘listen’ to the land, to help him see and understand, thus earning a begrudging respect from the ranger. Long sun and heat drenched hikes, shared sweat and accidental touches, and eventually these men create their own heat, set against sunken ridges and volcanic glass.
– There is little dialogue in this story, much description, and this time Moore’s meaningful silences didn’t quite do it for me, I wanted more spoken words. Keoni is the strong, silent Alpha, stereotypically the native who knows more than the ‘white’ mainlander; I wanted more explanation than steam. I know this is rich, coming from verbose me, but I hungered for it. This is a good story, but it could have been better.
– Moore’s follow-up ‘Two Strangers’ gave me what I wanted, and I think I almost liked it more. It is the same story, with less words, but more background material, more motivation for both men. I wish he had interwoven the two stores, interlaced the sentences of one with the motivations of the other. Oh well, I can dream, and Moore is a damn fine writer. Maybe it is the way I read the stories this time, I usually read the first one, write my review, then go back and read the second and then review that one; this time I only left a time gap, but didn’t write until after reading both.
– No tears from me this time, maybe some ragged breaths over steam vents; perhaps I’m the one venting.
