Features

“Her body was like that of a human being, but her eyes were greenstone, her hair sea-kelp, her mouth was like that of a barracuda, and sharp flints of obsidian and greenstone were set between her thighs … Maui was determined to enter Hine-nui-te-po’s body, consume her heart, and then aimed to reappear from her mouth, reversing birth, so that people would be able to live forever.”
 
Maui’s quest for immortality was doomed by the cheeky Piwakawaka (fantail), who couldn’t control his laughter as Maui climbed head-first into the womb of the goddess of death. The bird’s laughter woke Hine-nui-te-po, who crushed Maui to death between her thighs, making sure that humans would remain mortal.
The Maui most Kiwi kids are introduced to at primary school is a much more wholesome character than this one, and he has far less nightmare-inducing adventures. The trickster who fished up Aotearoa and slowed the sun is mischievous, but everything works out in the end and no one is hurt. Most of the Maori mythology of story time is pretty PG.
There is another set of myths. In these stories, there is terror, treachery, incest, and plenty of other excitement. These are not stories for little kiddies sitting on the mat. All over the world, before TV, movies, or even books, evening entertainment for adults often focused around storytelling. Maori culture was no different.
Stories have been passed down generation by generation for many reasons. Some are history, telling of how the Maori arrived from the ancestral land of Hawaiki, or the unique history of each tribe. Some stories explain why things are the way they are, or teach children how things are done. A lot are important pieces of cultural heritage. But some stories were the ancient equivalent of this year’s Iron Man II, Arrested Development or (please no) The Twilight Saga

: Eclipse.
Because stories held such a central place in Maori life, storytelling was an important skill. It was not just a way to kill time around the campfire. This was the way history was passed on, person to person down the generations; it was how people knew their place in the world before the University of Otago taught them to find it. 
Whakapapa (genealogy) is traditionally very important to Maori. Memorising and reciting histories was, and still is, an art form. Many whakapapa trace back all the way to one of the waka that first carried Maori to Aotearoa. Without a way to permanently record this history, this crucial knowledge was treasured in the memories of the tohunga.
History was exciting. Kupe is widely thought of as the first discoverer of Aotearoa. There are many different tales told of him, depending on what part of the country you’re in and who’s doing the telling. His journey here from Hawaiki encompassed many thrilling adventures, chief among them a battle with a giant octopus. In some versions, he leaves Hawaiki to run away from his brother after stealing his brother’s wife. Abel Tasman, whose most interesting accomplishment on his voyage to New Zealand was mistaking it for South America, can’t compete.
Even the stories to which we do get exposed are often watered down. For this we can partly blame the fact that unless we’re lucky enough to have whanau who know the stories and can pass them on, most of the books telling the old myths are aimed at children – so they’re child-appropriate. Another reason is that the few Pakeha historians who recorded Maori myths (rather than regarding them as ‘puerile beliefs’ or the like) tended to sanitise them somewhat. 
Sir George Grey was one of the first of these Pakeha historians who took an interest in Maori myths. In the 1840s he collected a large number of myths and legends from around the Pacific, and particularly New Zealand. His versions are considered very true to the storytellers of the time. But in Sir Grey’s version of the death of Maui, it doesn’t specify how Maui’s going to get inside her. He tries to distract the reader with descriptive poetry: 
“Then the young hero started off, and twisted the strings of his weapon tight round his wrist, and went into the house, and stripped off his clothes, and the skin on his hips looked mottled and beautiful as that of a mackerel, from the tattoo marks, cut on it with the chisel of Uetonga, and he entered the old chieftainess.”
Victorian society was thus left with an acceptable version of events that was modified to suit their tastes.
In New Zealand today we haven’t relegated all ancient myths to the position of children’s entertainment. Classics is a subject that was a key part of any genteel young man’s education, and is still popular at many high schools and at university level. One of the components of this is always Greek and Roman mythology. These are studied not only for their own sake, but because it is widely acknowledged that the classical era has had a wide influence on Western society, and the messages they carry are still relevant to us today.
On our little island at the bottom of the world, our mythology has not influenced the rise and fall of empires. But Maori culture and beliefs have certainly had an impact on our history, from our turbulent past to the current Treaty negotiations. Maori ways of thinking and doing are surely at least as relevant and worthwhile topics to study as those of the ancient Greeks and Romans. In fact, given that the ancient Greek and Roman empires crumbled a long time ago, while Maori are a growing population, they’re arguably a lot more relevant.
It probably doesn’t help that the Greeks had Homer to record their histories, while New Zealand got Sir George Grey and his nervousness around vaginas. But just because Pre-European Aotearoa had an oral tradition of storytelling rather than a written one doesn’t mean that the myths were any less thrilling and laden with important messages.
In what is sometimes known as the ‘Maori Renaissance’, a resurgence of M?ori art, language and culture began during the second half of the twentieth century. Part of this was a renewed interest in the old stories. Contemporary authors such as Patricia Grace and Witi Ihimaera have drawn on the myths and legends of their ancestors for inspiration and introduced aspects of Maori life to new audiences, in Aotearoa and around the world.
Maybe this is just the start of a trend towards some of these great stories being appreciated by the people they were intended for, adults, instead of being limited to fun stories for kids. Because as magical as story time was, these epic adventures deserve more.
 
SiDEbaRS!!!!!!
 
Cast of characters:
There is no one set of Maori myths or gods, rather a huge number of variations from region to region, iwi to iwi, or even between individual tellers. The descriptions here are generally the most widespread or common interpretation.
Papatuanuku and Ranginui: the earth mother and sky father, from whom all of the gods and living things are descended. They were locked in a tight embrace until they were pushed apart by their sons, who were tired of living in the darkness between them.
Tawhirimatea: the god of weather. He objected to the separation of his parents, and stormy weather is him raging against his siblings for hurting them.
Hine-nui-te-po: the goddess of death and ruler of the underworld.
Tane Mahuta: the god of the forests and birds, Tane Mahuta is one of the many sons of Rangi and Papa, and both father and husband of Hine-nui-te-po. This is why she ran away to the underworld. Wouldn’t you?
Tangaroa: the god of the oceans.
Mahuika: the goddess (or in some variations, god) of fire.
 
Maui
Maui is an important character in mythology around the whole Pacific. He is the ultimate trickster; most of the mischief he makes ends well, but not all. 
He is held to be responsible for fishing up the North Island using a hook made out of the jawbone of his ancestress and his own blood for bait. The Maori name for the island is Te-I

ka-a-Maui, ‘The Fish of Maui’. The southern end of the island is Te Upoko O Te Ika, the head of the fish, proving once and for all that the map is upside down and Auckland is the arse end of New Zealand.
Maui had several other exploits, including two that many New Zealand school kids will have come across. Maui slowed the sun by capturing it with great ropes and beating it into submission with the sacred jawbone, lengthening the days. He also fooled Mahuika, the goddess of fire, into giving up fire to humankind (though in most versions he did this after putting out all the fires in the world just to see what would happen, so don’t get too grateful).
The stories are remarkably similar between nations. Maui also fished up Hawaii, Tonga, and Mangareva, among others, and is often credited with stealing or discovering fire and slowing the sun by other cultures as well.
Maui’s origins and death were no less adventurous than his life. He was born premature and lifeless and cast into the ocean wrapped in his mother’s topknot, hence his full name, Maui-tikitiki-a-Taranga (Maui topknot of Taranga). He was rescued and raised by the gods, only returning to the mortal realm as a youth. His final act was to attempt to save humans from death, only to be destroyed by the guardian of the underworld, Hine-nui-te-po.
 
Myth or legend?
These two words are often used pretty much interchangeably. They’re similar, but different.
Myths are stories told about supernatural beings and events. They’re often strongly linked with religion and told to explain why the world is the way it is and why things are done the way they are.
Legends are often based on true events from history. They are about things that can actually happen in the real world, and are usually regarded as more factual than myths. 
The boundaries can get blurred very easily. The story of Kupe discovering Aotearoa could certainly be true – someone must have been the first. But the supernatural adventures he’s sometimes said to have had along the way? Maybe not so much.