Finding a Path Through the Polynesian Epic: A Review of The Wayfinder
As a lifelong fan of stories that transport us to new worlds and different cultures, Adam Johnson’s The Wayfinder caught my eye in a heartbeat. The promise of a Polynesian epic, intricately woven with themes of adventure, survival, and the power of words, had me eagerly turning the pages. I was curious to see how Johnson—a Pulitzer Prize-winning author known for his deeply thoughtful prose—would bring these elements to life. However, while the journey through this richly researched narrative offered significant moments of beauty and tension, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the adventure had a touch too much familiarity.
Set on a mythical Polynesian isle during turbulent times, the story centers around a girl named Kōrero, destined to embark on a journey to save her failing island from the looming threat of war with Fiji. While this premise echoes the beloved Disney film Moana, Johnson delves into a historical context that adds layers of complexity. The novel is split into two timelines: Kōrero’s personal, first-person account and the third-person narratives of the inhabitants of Tonga, ruled by a king battling illness and struggling to secure an heir. The narrative cuts between these timelines with remarkable grace, creating a tapestry of intertwined lives that keeps readers engaged, particularly as emotional stakes escalate.
Johnson’s character roster is nothing short of astounding. With a multitude of perspectives—from the noble king to ambitious princes and even a talking parrot—I found the character dynamics fascinating, if at times confusing. I often found myself referring back to my makeshift family tree, a tool I highly recommend for fellow readers venturing into this rich world. While the sheer number of characters provided depth, it sometimes felt like I was traversing an intricate web of relationships without always grasping their significance.
Another thematic heart of The Wayfinder lies in the power of storytelling, a motif embodied by Kōrero, who is an apprentice in the art of words. Johnson’s focus on language as a vessel for legacy is beautifully illustrated, as seen in moments like, “…if he doesn’t love our Tongan words, if he doesn’t see their beauty, he’ll learn our language as a slave learns to farm our fields, knowing he’ll never taste the food he grows” (p. 412). Unfortunately, while the themes resonate deeply, the style at times felt overly economical. The distinction between the first-person and third-person narratives occasionally blurred, creating a sort of textual sameness that dulled the emotional impact of the story.
Moreover, Johnson’s thorough research occasionally interrupted the fluidity of the narrative. The added context—subsections headed "A Word About…"—while informative, felt like they broke the enchanting spell of the storytelling. It left me with a nagging thought: was this a story adapted for a Western audience, rather than a genuine dive into Polynesian culture?
For those who thrive on sprawling adventures filled with political intrigue, magic realism, and character-driven plots, The Wayfinder will likely resonate. It’s the kind of book that might appeal more to fantasy readers, as the adventurous arc and expansive cast cater to familiar tropes. While the narrative has been a fulfilling journey through Polynesian landscapes, I found myself yearning for deeper nuances and a greater sense of uncharted territory.
Ultimately, The Wayfinder is a heartfelt exploration of power, story, and survival that captures the essence of its cultural backdrop. While I didn’t feel fully transported as I had hoped, this epic will likely captivate those who appreciate weaving rich tapestries of tales, even if some strands feel comfortably familiar. Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the advance copy—I look forward to seeing how readers embrace Johnson’s grand adventure!