Customer Reviews

Tattoo

5 star:		(16)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I picked up The Tattoo after reading "The Queen of Tears", McKinney's second book, which was also great. The Tattoo, however, I could not put down. The illustrations of the complexities of race in Hawai'i, the depth of the characters portrayed in the novel and the profound humanity of the story all make you wish there were another volume to the story. And indeed there is, but it is only in the imagination; and in the ways you see yourself and the people you know through the eyes of the characters in this book. I am not from Hawaii, but having visited the book certainly revealed a side hidden from the view of most tourists. But much more important in my reading was the way I could relate to these characters--the way I found myself hoping for the best, but as often happens in the real world, having to settle for a less-than-ideal reality. This is perhaps what is most impressive about The Tattoo, the care you develop for the characters is not simply rewarded with mindless hopefullness, success and a "happy ending".
In my mind, McKinney has succeeded in developing a compelling, real story occupied by true characters, fictitious yet in many ways more real than we normally care to acknowledge in our daily lives. I found myself thinking and reflecting about the book for at least a week after I had finished reading it. It is a tragic lovestory, one of adventure, friendship and the complexities of family. It also, I believe, opens one up to the possibilities of life, both wonderful and heartbreaking. After all, what would one be without the other.
My thanks to the author for a book I'll never forget.

The Tattoo is certainly a work of fiction, which takes liberties with reality (composite characters built from several real people, scenes exaggerated and dramatized for effect), but it is based on real people and their attitudes about life, and captures a genuine flavor of hawaii that strikes a resounding chord. I used to spend new year's with the family the story is based on, both in kaneohe and wahiawa, so I can't pretend to be unbiased in my affection for the characterizations of these people that I knew from my childhood, but I think in spite of the fact I was familiar with the "back-story" it was a novel that stood well on it's own.

For all the press and attention hawaii gets for hula skirts, ukuleles and luaus, it's refreshing to have a "authentic" look at local life and culture. There are real people behind the tourist photos, and real lives that don't fit the typical image of hawaii. Although some of the other reviewers found the tale a bit depressing, I must say that in the end I found more hope than tragedy in this cautionary tale.

Being local japanese born and raised in country, the main character Ken is eerily similar to my life. Not being able to relate to the stereotype mentioned in the beginning of the book, I felt as though my life experiences was being described through the narration of Ken's story. As for Mapuana's review, she is entitled to her opinion, but I am an example of someone who has been in jail and can read college level books. This is a piece of true Hawaii, the dark side, how noone wants to revel in it because it is not associated with the word paradise, and where atleast one person can say they have lived in the shoes of Ken Hideyoshi.

I wanted to love this book, I really did. I was born and raised on Oahu's north shore and went to UH. McKinney's settings in Honolulu and on the windward side are my old stomping grounds. In addition, I've taught in prisons (and taught prison lit), and working-class and prison issues are among the themes I'm most interested in seeing dealt with in fiction. Based on the (overly) positive reviews here, I ordered a copy because I was anxious to see how a writer had combined those elements.

Unfortunately, this is not a great book, and it's not a great book because Chris McKinney is not yet a great writer. His weak points significantly mar *The Tattoo.*

First, McKinney's "framing device" - the felon, Ken Hideyoshi relates his life story to the "haole" tattoo artist, Cal, who can no longer speak because he "got his throat cut." Fair enough. If what we are reading is Ken's story, as related to (and presumably, later written down by) Cal, Ken's language should reflect speech. It doesn't. Ken's prose is literary, flowery, and sometimes even a little on the purple side. So why the expedient of Cal, who remains a silent, smiling, and essentially addle-brained cipher?

One answer is the rather heavy-handed symbolism of "silencing" the haole so the "local" can speak. It's interesting, but the effect is the opposite of the one intended: Ken is permanently "mediated" by Cal--that is, he speaks always through the hated haole. But why can't Ken speak for himself? Why does the story require Cal to "deliver" Ken's memories when Ken is perfectly capable of doing it for himself?

As a corollary, McKinney's narrative choice necessarily means that we are "told" everything in the past tense and can never experience anything in the book's fictional present tense. (The only thing that's in the book's present is the creation of Ken's tattoo.) The result flattens and mutes the drama and tension. We know the important events are all in the past; we know that Ken came through them. The emotion that's recounted takes on a second-hand veneer.

Second, there's Kinney's rendition of pidgin, which is painful to read when it isn't simply odd. As a writer, I'll be the first to say that it is a devilish task to put Hawai'ian pidgin on paper in a way that isn't incomprehensible or that doesn't make it sound like baby talk. But McKinney (and his editors) needed to find a better way. The lexical system that McKinney hits on is neither phonetic, consistent, nor logical: "hea" for "here" (when heeah might make more sense) or "stranga" for strange-ah, in which the soft "g" sound is lost. In addition, McKinney's ear is sometimes tin, and there are half-pidgin, half "standard" English sentences that I'll wager McKinney never heard anyone say. For example, "You must be from da mainland," in which the speaker uses "da" for "the," but pronounces the "must" of "mus' be" correctly; or "I went arready put mine," in which the "arready" is accurate, but the "wen'" is lost in that grammatical "went." In the end, all of this becomes a huge distraction.

Third, there's a point-of-view problem that lurks in the background throughout the text but which stands up and shouts in the epilogue whose events neither Cal (nor Ken) can possibly know. Insisting on staying with Ken (or with Ken-through-Cal), in fact, means a limitation of POV that's a shame, and it creates situations in which Ken must explain, rather awkwardly, why he knows something that he didn't witness. Since the voices of the women in this story, especially that of Claudia, are as interesting as Ken's, the novel would have been opened up considerably via the use of alternating chapters or some other device that would have made her POV available.

Though Ken's story is certainly intriguing, the reader is left with the sensation that he's not the most interesting character (Koa, for that matter, is). In addition, his last-chapter philosophizing--which the novel's shape essentially requires--rings an extremely false tone.

The prizes and accolades that McKinney has garnered for *The Tattoo* come in part because he has written about something that no one else has. Perhaps he deserves them for that reason alone. We're anxious to see ourselves named in fiction in the islands, and not by outsiders but by our own. On the other hand, the arts scene in Honolulu is so inbred and so affected by "small pond" syndrome that it's difficult to know where merit truly lies. There was much in *The Tattoo* that resonated in my experience, but that could just as well be said about the scrapbooks I keep. Meanwhile, the great book about Hawai'i by someone who is of the culture and who knows it intimately is waiting to be written.

I was fortunate enough to have Chris in a class or two of mine at the University of Hawai`i. When I saw he had pusblished The Tattoo, I took no time to snatch it up. Growing up in Hawai`i and having a couple of friends who work in the prison system, I know this book rings true to life in the islands in a big way.

Chris' writing style is highly artistic, painting vivid pictures of his characters, the areas of O`ahu, and the prison cell.

The Tattoo is a must-read for anyone, and I know for a fact that the prison guards at OCCC have been telling each other they all HAVE to read this book!

This book was right on the money. Being born and raised in Hawaii, i know where this character Ken is coming from. This book just seemed all to real to me. The real Hawaii, which we kama'aina people see everyday. For anyone out there who wants to see how it really is growing up in Hawaii with a "local" family, this book is a must.

First off, I am a hardcore reader. I go through about eight books a month in a variety of genres. I read top authors like Evanovich, Margolin, Isles, Gerritson, etc. The Tatoo by Chris McKinney is the best book that I have read in half a year.

The story is rich, the conversation natutal, the scene description stunning, etc. I was a little worried that the local dialect would be painful to read as it is so many times, but it wasn't. It was totally authentic.

The Tattoo isn't just a book set in modern day Hawaii- it's a story that has the ability to reach people of all races and cultures. In a way, it kind of reminds me of "Once Were Warriors" in tone.

You won't be dissapointed!

Still in a Hawaiian mood, I bought this small book at Honolulu airport on my way back home. It certainly gives a different perspective on Hawaii than most visitors would see. There is a lot of violence and drugs both in the home village of Ken Hideyoshi, the Japanese-Hawaiian protagonist, and in the shady Honolulu circles he moves in. As a character, Ken is a bit too literary and erudite to be credible, especially as he constantly manages to screw up his own life. Yet, depicting him this way was perhaps justifiable in order to give him a voice and render the story engaging. More realistic are Ken's love, the sexy Claudia Choy, and her mother, a tough Korean woman running strip joints and other enterprises on the edge of legality. The mother is determined that Claudia should move up to a more respectable society through her money and education. Ken does not fit into her vision. The story is engaging enough and at the end the reader does care about Ken and wishes him a better future. The depictions of life of the less than wealthy rural native Hawaiians are some of the best parts of the book.

My grandparents visited hawaii over the summer after being gone for 40 years and brought back this book. I borrowed it and I still haven't returned it. Never before have I visited Hawaii, and I tried not to take the book too seriously. It ended up being an emotional rollercoaster ride. My eyes teared up when he went back to visit his past, and my fist started to clench and unclench with his hatred for his ex-boss. Overall, it was a great book, and I'm going to read it again.

This is a very powerful work about domestic violence and the consequences of a life born into hatred and prejudice. It is a story of the dangers of pride and the sometimes inescapable tentacales of family destiny. The author deals with a very dark side of issues we all have - trying not to become our parents. Although the story occurs in Hawaii it is a story repeated everywhere in the world, a point the author clearly observes, and his clarity and simplicity of style make it possible for anyone to connect to his tale. I heartily recommend it.