These two Polynesian cave-stories are of interest from several points
of view. In Waitz-Gerland (VI., 125), the Tongan tale is referred to
as "a very romantic love-story," and if the author had known the
Hawaiian story he would have had even more reason to call it romantic.
But is either of these tales a story of romantic love? Is there
evidence in them of anything but strong selfish passion or eagerness
to possess one of the other sex? Is there any trace of the _higher_
phases of love--of unselfish attachment, sympathy, adoration, as of a
superior being, purity, gallantry, self-sacrifice? Not one. The
Hawaiian Kaaialii does indeed smash his own skull when he finds his
bride is dead. But that is a very different thing from sacrificing
himself to save or please _her_. We have seen, too, on how slight a
provocation these islanders will commit suicide, an act which proves a
weak intellect rather than strong feeling. A man capable of feeling
true love would have brains enough to restrain himself from committing
such a silly and useless act in a fit of disappointment.
There is every reason to believe, moreover, that these stories have
been embroidered by the narrators. In the vast majority of cases the
men who have had an opportunity to note down primitive love-stories
unfortunately did not hesitate to disguise their native flavor with
European sauce in order to make them more palatable to the general
public. This makes them interesting stories, made realistic by the use
of local color, but utterly mars them for the scientific epicure who
often relishes most what is caviare to the general. Take that Hawaiian
story. It is supposed to be told by King Kalakaua himself. At least,
the book of _Legend and Myths_ has "By His Hawaiian Majesty" on the
title page. Beneath those words we read that the book was edited by
the Hon. E.M. Daggett; and in the preface acknowledgment is made to as
many as eight persons "for material in the compilation of many of the
legends embraced in this volume." Thus there are ten cooks, and the
question arises, "did they carefully and conscientiously tell these
stories exactly as related to them by aboriginal Hawaiians, free from
missionary influences, or did they flavor the broth with European
condiments?" To this question no answer is given in the book, but
there is plenty of evidence that either the King himself, in order to
make his people as much like ours as possible, or his foreign
assistants, embellished them with sentimental details. To take only
two significant points: it sounds very sentimental to be told that the
girl Ua, after Kaaialii had jumped into the vortex "wailed upon the
winds a requiem of love and grief," but a native Hawaiian has no more
notion of the word requiem than he has of a syllogism. Then again, the
story is full of expressions like this: "His _heart beat with joy_,
for he thought she was Kaala;" or "He asked her for a smile and she
_gave him her heart_." Such phrases mislead not only the general
reader but careless anthropologists into the belief that the lower
races feel and express their love just as we do. As a matter of fact,
Polynesians do not attribute feelings to the heart. Ellis (II., 311),
could not even make them understand what he was talking about when he
tried to explain to them our ideas regarding the heart as a seat of
moral feeling. The fact that our usage in this respect is a mere
convention, not based on physiological facts, makes it all the more
reprehensible to falsify psychology by adorning aboriginal tales with
the borrowed plumes and phrases of civilization.