Islands "Literature"

Its Disturbing Effect Upon Tahiti

From Our Own Correspondent

Papeete, Oct. 25.

PERHAPS there is no island in all the world that has inspired so much miscellaneous literature as has Tahiti.

Particularly during the past 25 years the harvest of books about this small entity on the vast bosom of the Pacific has been amazing. So that we might see ourselves as others see us, we have tried to read these volumes.

At the expense of much midnight oil we have dragged our eyes over endless successions of printed pages. The vast majority make very dismal reading. The monotony is abysmal. We marvelled why people bought and read them until it dawned upon us that they contain an element which impels portly blonde ladies of uncertain age to devour the latest ultra-modern novels. It is extraordinary how this sort of unwholesome literature appeals particularly to women of that complexion and maturity. None of our brunette acquaintances has ever exhi bited any such tendency.

Whatever the explanation of this curi ous phenomenon may be, the mystery of the presence of regiments of fat blondes, walking about in costumes which made us blush, is now revealed. These dismal books have represented our island as a community of unbridled license and these seekers after the Utopia of Unrestraint were actually becoming a problem for our authorities when the discontinuance of passenger steamers from the U.S. Pacific Coast fortunately stopped the flood.

The whole matter has, however, filled us with alarm. It has awakened to us the necessity of searching our souls, examin ing our conduct, and comparing ourselves with other communities to find out, if possible, the foundations on which these egregious authors have erected their fabrications.

To our consternation, we discover that our South Sea Island metropolis; is in proportion to its size quite as wicked as Honolulu, Seattle, Manila, Boston, or any other seaport in the world where ships find haven after long voyages. But with this disquieting discovery comes a measure of consolation.

Wicked as we may be, our iniquity does not hide behind a rococo facade of smug respectability—there to flourish for the nourishment of pious landlords, cor rupt politicians, and miscellaneous racketeers. On the contrary, it serves us as a sort of national defense: a frontier guard to engage the time and attention of invading Huns, Goths and Vandals; enabling us to enjoy in peace and secur ity, the quiet felecity of our Islands life.

We can see now that the writers of these works of art never penetrated with in our outermost defenses. And so we are comforted and return again to our philo sophic plane of life.

We do wish, however, that for their own sake and enlightenment people

would read the really good and authori tative books written by men who actually know the Islands and who paint true pictures of the little world we inhabit in the South Pacific Ocean.

Mr. C. G. Rutledge, general manager and managing director of Cuthbert’s Misima Goldmine Limited, Eastern Papua, paid a quick business trip to Australia during October.