Aia i Hilo One

Kīhei de Silva

Haku mele: Unknown. The song is widely recognized as having been written for Emalia Kaihumua, one of Kalākaua’s court dancers and the author of "He Aloha Moku o Keawe." Since that mele was composed in 1894, when Sweet Emalia was a young woman, we can guess that "Hilo One" also belongs to the late 19th or early 20th centuries.

Sources: Vickie Ii Rodrigues, as given on the liner notes of Nā Mele Hula ʻOhana, Hula H 501.
Kimo Alama-Keaulana, Puke Mele, I:36–37; MS Grp 329, 2.53, Bishop Museum Archives.

Discography:  Vickie Ii Rodrigues and Family, Nā Mele ʻOhana, Hula H501.
Hui ʻOhana, Hui ʻOhana, Paradise SLP 920.
Mākaha Sons of Niʻihau, Puana Hou, Poki SP 9041.
Hoʻokena, Choice of the Heart, Hoʻomau HI 1002.
 
Text below: As given on the liner notes of Nā Mele Hula ʻOhana. Translation: Robert Lokomaikaʻiokalani Snakenberg.

Hilo, Hawaiʻi, is traditionally divided into three sections: Hilo Palikū (Hilo of the Upright Cliff) lies east of the Wailuku River at the Hāmākua end of Hilo town; Hilo One (Sand Hilo) identifies the ma kai section of Hilo bordered by the wide, black sand beach that once ran the length of Hilo Bay; and Hilo Hanakahi (Hilo of the Chief Hanakahi) refers to the inland section of Hilo near Keaukaha.*

According to Jean Sullivan’s liner notes for Vickie Ii Rodrigues’ Nā Mele ʻOhana: "ʻHilo One,’ the story of the lovers Emily and Henry, is of unknown origin. It’s been sung by the trio of sisters for many years, and is a favorite of theirs." Manu Boyd’s introduction to Hoʻokena’s Choice of the Heart recording of the same song identifies Henry as the love-haunted composer "who remarks that a particular statement of Emalia’s is silly." I find the song to be considerably more difficult than these liner notes indicate. The diacritical ambiguities of nānā (look) and nāna (it is he/she; for him/her) in the second verse; the apparent change of speakers and the additional ambiguities of ʻiwi (the bird), iwi (deep attachment), and aʻo (of; subject marker) in the third verse, and the gender uncertainties of bird, bud, and ʻo ia ala (that one over there) in verses two and three make it difficult to identify the characters, voices, and context of the mele.

Several years ago, with the assistance of Lokomaikaʻi Snakenberg, we arrived at the following interpretation: "Hilo One" describes a lovers’ triangle involving 1) Emalia, 2) the jilted songwriter, and 3) lucky Henry. The song’s first and last verses describe Emalia from the unhappy composer’s point of view: he aches when he thinks of his sweet, beloved Emalia. Verse two provides the reason for his heartache: "an unprincipled, flower-flitting ʻiʻiwi has taken Emalia from me." In this context, the third verse makes no sense if spoken by our anguished, heterosexual composer ("He is not what they say he is; Henry-the-ʻiwi is here with me"); it is Emalia that he loves, not Henry his rival. The verse does make sense in Emalia’s mouth; she responds to her former lover’s accusation by defending the loyalty of Henry, her new beau. "Henry," she says, "is not the flirt that they say he is; right here with me is 1- ka ʻiwi ʻo Heneri (the bird named Henry) and 2- ka iwi o Heneri (the deep affection of Henry). In our view, then, the song has three characters: the sweet but gullible Emalia, the honest but jilted composer, and the attractive but indiscriminate Henry. The composer speaks his mind in verses one, two, and four. He quotes Emalia’s defense of Henry in verse three; her gullibility is the cause of his heartache.

Although Kimo Alama-Keaulana’s Puke Mele explanation of "Hilo One" runs contrary to our own personal preference for an innocent Emalia, he does provide a second, equally valid point of view. He sees Emalia as the song’s unprincipled flirt (ke kolohe) whose interest in other young men (liko) leaves the ʻiʻiwi-pōlena composer—"a man who is a better suited companion"—out in the cold. In Alama-Keaulana’s eyes, this ideal-but-lovelorn composer is Henry; the other suitors are unnamed. Poor Henry finds no truth in flirtatious Emalia’s assurances that she holds in her heart an iwi, "a profound love of Henry”; Emalia’s promiscuity is the cause of his heartache.**

"Hilo One" illustrates the tendency of many older compositions to lose specific meaning over time: contexts grow cloudy; language becomes enigmatic when words are misheard, misunderstood, or incorrectly transcribed; references and allusions are lost; authors and principals are forgotten. Conversely, these compositions tend to gain additional, ambiguous meanings over time: as text is altered and lost, as it drifts free of specific referents, then whole vistas of potential (and potentially inaccurate) interpretation are opened to successive generations of performers and audiences. The specifics of "Hilo One" are not quite lost to us, but they are certainly open to question. The maxim ʻAʻole pau ka ʻike i ka hālau hoʻokahi (Not all knowledge is exhausted by a single school) seems particularly relevant here: when we can no longer confirm the authenticity of a particular ʻike, then we must honor those who conscientiously arrive at ʻike of their own.

The essay above was written by Kīhei de Silva and published in his book He Aloha Moku o Keawe: A Collection of Songs for Hawaiʻi, Honolulu, 1997, pps. 4–5. It is offered here, in slightly revised and updated form, with his express consent. He retains all rights to this essay; no part of it may be used or reproduced without his written permission.

* Mary Kawena Pūkuʻi, Place Names of Hawaiʻi, 46; John Clark, Beaches of the Big Island, 14–18.

** Kimo Alama-Keaulana, Puke Mele, I:36–37. Alama-Keaulana has since provided me with the text and translation of "Hoʻoheno no Puʻuhale,” an older mele whose “lyrics were later revised into what we now know as ‘Hilo One’” [personal communication, May 24, 1999]. This “parent” composition places Emalia in Puʻuhale, not Hilo; it offers two additional verses of heartache; and it introduces three enigmatic proper nouns—Mauna Tamara, Rosalia, and the previously-mentioned Puʻuhale—whose identities/meanings/locations serve to further confound, rather than illuminate, our already tentative understanding of the mele.