South Pacific was one of the first movies and musicals I saw on Betamax, back in the late seventies. I must have seen it no less than a dozen times since then, and Bali-Ha'i, Bloody Mary, Lt. Cable, Liat, and the dashing Emile de Becque were household names in my household. But up until a few years ago I didn't realize the movie, which was based on the Broadway musical, was based on a book by James Michener, an author I've admired since reading his exhaustively researched epic, Hawaii--that was a truly exceptional book. And yet, Tales of the South Pacific is a very different book.
The tales are a collection of stories of the islands during WWII, loosely connected through its eclectic cast of characters, with narration by an unnamed Michener. War is the circumstance that binds each narrative, Tolstoy's War and Peace seemingly the characters' book du jour, but save for two or three tales, warfare does not dominate the story, at least not to me. Michener's magic lies in the telling of the story, captivating even with the most innocuous of plots, such as an inter-island search for crates of whisky for Christmas eve. But since the romance of South Pacific and Bali-Ha'i have stayed with me since childhood, it was the chapters on Lt. Joe Cable, Liat, Bloody Mary, Nellie Forbush, and Emile de Becque I found most fascinating. The only real romance, of course, lies in Bali-Ha'i, "lonely island," "special island," "floating in the sunshine." Joe Cable and Liat's encounters, so romantically, musically played out in Hollywood vignettes you tend to ignore the fact her mother practically pimped her--are gritty, sordid, and urgent. For a sense of urgency, exceedingly overruled by the prejudice of its time, ruled the days and waking nights of American officers and servicemen, and precisely why prescient French expats exiled their womenfolk to Bali-Ha'i. But "Cable was truly enraptured. The frieze of women looked like models awaiting the immortalizing brush of Gauguin. Unaware of their forbidding ugliness by American middle class standards, they were equally unaware of their surpassing beauty by the artist's immortal standards." Clearly ripe for the picking, by Bloody Mary's standards. On the other hand, Forbush and de Becque's romance most resembles that of the Broadway musical, if you can ignore the haciendero Frenchman's (as portrayed by the ridiculously handsome Italian Rossano Brazzi in the movie) gold tooth and the fact that he has four daughters by Polynesian, Tonkinese, and Melanese women. Most of the stories are inconclusive, but for the occasional definitive sentiment. Such as when "Lt. Cable acknowledged that he had reached a great impasse in his life. At that time he did not know that never again, as long as he lived, would he write to that girl in Philadelphia. He would try several times thereafter, but false words would not come, and true words he dared not write." I believe Michener dared, and wrote true.