Night Fisher

Night Fisher was a highly personal, tragic coming-of-age story with deep political undertones. It is an immigrant story of a ha’ole trying to find his place in Hawaii, on an is;and where class conflicts and batu (which R. Kikuo Johnson tells us in his notes on page 143 has reached “epidemic” proportions in Hawaii) have threatened a secure and relatively privileged, sheltered life for Loren. In the very beginning, Johnson includes detailed maps of the formation of Maui, ending with a modern depiction. The notes at the end give insight into Hawaiian slang, flora, and fauna. This has a clear purpose for Johnson, who opens the story by showing Loren’s father fighting the overgrown lawn. From the very beginning, the stage was set for a story on place, displacement, and belonging.

Loren is never truly accepted in this story. On pages 83 and 84, we read about the introduction of new (“invasive”) species of flora and fauna into the fragile and isolated Hawaiian ecosystem. The words used in conjunction with this introduction are very negative, like “assault” and “destruction”. It is impossible for Loren to avoid feeling a sense that he, too, does not belong in a fundamental way. This feeling of being a loner is felt profoundly by Loren, who desperately wants to feel a sense of belonging. He lies about his sexual experiences and becomes involved in drugs and crime in order to finally fit in.

Despite having lived for quite some time in Hawaii, he is clearly a ha’ole – though he has no sense of the mainland really being his home, either. When his new friends take him to “Little Manilla”, on “the other side of town” (39) his discomfort is acute – he can’t remember being in this area since he was 13 years old (at the time, he was sheltered by his father), and upon his return, he is concerned about being watched. He now feels alienated from his father and disillusioned with most of his peers, especially females. No mention is made of his mother, but her total absence in the story is felt powerfully. Loren’s father cares deeply about his only son, making a number of sacrifices for him (he desperately wants a beautiful yard and a man to tend it, but instead he chooses to pay for Loren’s expensive education). Despite his good intentions, however, he is like so many parents of teenagers, who ultimately hurt their children in misguided but loving attempts to help them. His stilted relationship with Loren (and his emphasis on Loren’s grades) is familiar, but ultimately heartbreaking.

Johnson uses black (particularly in the form of backgrounds, shadows, and silhouettes) to create a powerful mood, and his drawings, while graceful, almost resemble sketches. The art was my favorite aspect of this story, which captured the sort of restless, tragic adolescent feel that made this particular story so poignant. Johnson clearly cares about Hawaii, despite showing an ugly underbelly that contrasts starkly with images of the archipelago as a lush paradise. This story was far more powerful in black and white, and provided a new image of Hawaii.

All of the characters in Night Fisher were believable and multidimensional, and Loren’s descent was all the more disquieting because it was so plausible, so real. I could see my friends in him, and even myself, to an extent. At the same time, I never expected the ending to be so harsh, or affecting. I have trouble with abrupt endings; I want the author to tell me what happens next, even if it sacrifices the beauty of their work. Perhaps my imagination is lacking, but it makes me feel uncomfortable for a story to end on such a tone, even if I can see the value. This particular ending was discomforting and abrupt, but he Loren seems to have finally found a place for himself, lying amidst the tall, lush Maui grass.

Night Fisher was filled with a subtlety and grace that was aided by the fluid black and white drawings, but is still fairly rare for the genre. At times, the story could be a bit convoluted, and I felt that it was much better upon a second reading, but it struck a chord with me, and I think that most people could relate it to aspects of their adolescent experience, or any sense we’ve all had of not quite fitting in anywhere.