Fate & Fabled

Can you believe that as a 28-year-old unmarried woman, I'm literally too old to be called a spinster?

The correct term for someone in my apparently geriatric state is a thornback.

Society is so obsessed with marriage that not only do we define ourselves by our relationship status, which was like 42% of my motivation for getting my doctorate in the first place, but we've created a social ideal wherein the only way to truly live happily ever after is to fall in love and stay that way.

Yet nearly half of marriages in the U.S. end in divorce because love doesn't always last forever.

I should know, I was engaged and head over heels before a bad breakup last year.

Everyone in my life expected me to be a devastated wreck for weeks, and I was at first, but it didn't take long for me to see the silver linings.

At the time, I was comforted by a story about a fellow thornback, the Hawaiian volcano goddess Pelehonuamea, Pele to her friends, who found love but gained so much more when it was lost.

It's an interesting story, even if you haven't recently had your heart broken, full of magical fight scenes, canoes and even murder.

[spooky music] Maybe you've heard of Pele.

She's a major figure in Hawaiian mythology and pop culture, allegedly the inspiration for Te Fiti in Disney's "Moana" because Te Fiti is not a real goddess in Polynesian folklore.

But most people don't know that Pele was briefly entangled with a shape-shifting demigod named Kamapua'a.

Some would call him Pele's husband, but that's not really an appropriate label because Hawaiians didn't have a western concept of marriage.

There were unions that could be blessed by gods and the chief, but they weren't legally binding and divorce just wasn't a thing.

They don't really teach us this in history class, but Hawaii was a sovereign nation with its own language and culture before colonization in the 1700s.

They were an oral society passing their knowledge about how the world works onto the next generation through stories, or mo'olelo.

For example, the mo'olelo used Kamapua'a and Pele's relationship as an explanation for Hawaii's rich ecological tapestry.

In myth, Pele is depicted as the divine embodiment of lava who is equally likely to aid or unalive you.

A true chaotic neutral on the alignment chart, Hawaiians revered Pele as the creator of their islands just as much as they feared the destruction she caused.

There are many versions of Pele's story, but in most of them, Pele was born to divine parents in the legendary ancestral homeland, Kahiki.

Through some linguistic magic, those Ks become Ts, and you see the real history of Polynesian migration from Tahiti reflected in Hawaiian mo'olelo.

Pele had many siblings with their own abilities to control the sea or clouds, but she took after her uncle Lonomakua, who taught her how to control fire.

Even as a child, her immense power, or mana, was obvious.

And not that it matters, but she was also said to be quite beautiful.

One of Pele's sisters, a sea goddess named Namakaokaha'i, grew jealous and chased Pele from Kahiki.

In some versions, Namaka resents Pele's strength, and in others, Pele has an affair with Namaka's partner.

Why are you chasing me?

Because you stole my husband.

It wasn't me.

Because you set my house on fire.

It wasn't me.

Because you're just too strong.

I swear on my life that it wasn't me!

Gasp!

Okay, maybe it was me.

Pele fled from her sister with a few of her siblings trying to find a new home for them and her fire.

Several times she dug into the earth to build a fire pit, only to be flooded by her sister's salty revenge.

Pele moved southeast from Kauai to Oahu and then to Maui, where she ultimately succumbed to her sister's attack.

But mana as strong as Pele's can't be stopped by death.

Free from her more human form, Pele's fiery spirit traveled to the Big Island of Hawaii to make her last stand.

Pele's lava made land that traced the path of her voyage, and now she lives with her family in Hawaii's active Kilauea Volcano.

Kamapua'a's origins are just as rocky, figuratively speaking, since geology is in his domain.

He is another major figure in Hawaiian folklore known as the hog god of Oahu and associated with fertility and agriculture.

Again, there are many versions of the story, but by most accounts, Kamapua'a was born on Oahu to his mother Hina, the goddess of the moon.

Hina was married to Chief Olopana, but was crushing hard on his more attractive younger brother.

Born into this Jon Snow situation through no fault of his own, these daddy issues led Kamapua'a down a violent path.

Like the better known demigod Maui, Kamapua'a was a kupua, a magical shape shifter.

In his human form, Kamapua'a was handsome and charming, albeit quick to anger, but he could shift at will into a hog as well as certain fish and plants.

Heartbroken over his father's disgust, Kamapua'a started raiding Olopana's lands.

In some stories, he makes his human form more closely resemble his hog shape by cutting his hair short and spiky, tattooing his body with dark ink, and wearing a jacket with spines down the back.

Kamapua'a was apprehended and released multiple times until he was blinded enough by his fury to kill the chief, and much like Pele, flee to the next island in the chain.

He hopped from one island to another, picking fights on each one and earning himself a nasty reputation as a brute.

Finally, he came to Hawaii where he saw Pele and was instantly enamored of her beauty.

Both Pele and Kamapua'a had strong personalities.

He was unapologetically crass and violent, and she had little patience to suffer fools, especially one who was supposed to be her equal partner.

They were simultaneously too similar and too different, clashing in ways that make great entertainment, but a terrible relationship.

Kamapua'a stood atop the volcano crater where he first saw Pele and tried to woo her with songs and dancing, but Pele, foreshadowing the rise of Shania Twain, was not much impressed.

"You're a pig and the son of a pig!"

she derided him, which sent Kamapua'a into a fit of rage.

Pele is lovely!

Pele is so sweet!

Pele, you would love me if only we could meet.

Ew, that's gross.

You're a pig, and you're the son of a pig!

Yeah?

Well, your mother was a hamster and your father smells like elderberries!

Isn't that from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"?

We don't even have elderberries in Hawaii, and we're about a thousand years too early for that reference!

I love that, you know that.

The two hurled insults at each other until Pele volleyed with smoke and flame instead of words.

Kamapua'a easily countered her attack, perhaps with weather powers of his own or help from his water god family members.

Pele shook the earth and sent streams of lava to burn Kamapua'a, who turned into grass to divert her flows and answered with floods of his own, nearly drowning Pele and her family.

Battle raged until the two realized neither one had the upper hand and their passion transformed into something more intimate.

For the first time in his life, Kamapua'a felt loved and happy, but it wasn't Pele's responsibility to keep him that way.

Pele realized that their relationship was toxic, though not in the comforting way that her volcano fumes were and that it was keeping her from realizing her true potential as Hawaii's eminent volcano goddess.

She broke up with Kamapua'a and the two agreed to split the Big Island in half so they wouldn't have to interact again.

I adore this trope in fiction and myth.

Pele stuck to the western side where her volcanoes could generate new earth and fertilize the existing land.

Kamapua'a took the eastern side, where his warm rains could nourish crops.

This juxtaposition in climate makes the Big Island one of the most ecologically diverse places on the planet.

I think the best way to describe the love these two shared is fierce, but even the fiercest affection can crumble in the face of incompatibility.

For Pele and Kamapua'a, their relationship's achilles heel was anger.

For me and my ex, it was contrasting views on family and for millions of people who break up or get divorced each year, the final straw could be adultery, financial stress, or a thousand other issues.

Traditionalists love to talk about the moral decline of our society by pointing to marriage, divorce, and birth rates, but I think they're missing the bigger picture here.

Yes, marriage rates are dropping, but so are divorce rates.

Younger generations are waiting longer to get married, making them more mature and less likely to fall into the relationship pitfalls their parents did.

And the older generations who are experiencing slightly higher divorce rates, mostly initiated by women, by the way, are ending incompatible relationships that likely shouldn't have been legally bound in the first place.

And if our society didn't pressure people to get married so young for so long, maybe they wouldn't have.

Is it a coincidence that Hawaii, a culture that historically didn't have the concept of marriage, has the lowest divorce rate in the U.S.?

I don't think so.

These divorcees are learning a powerful lesson.

Breakups are good actually.

If a relationship isn't working, it's better to end it and be grateful for the benefits.

After Pele left him, Kamapua'a fled to a distant island and married a chieftess, supposedly getting his own happily ever after.

Pele got to realize her dream of basking in her own glory and living with her fire and family.

And when my engagement ended, I was able to focus on my friendships and eat Nutella again.

I'm glad mythology is full of love stories and tragedies alike, but I wish there were more stories like this one, where losing love wasn't seen as tragic.

So at the next all-millennial meeting when we decide which industry we're going to ruin, I'm doubling down on marriage.

Not because I don't believe in love; I do, but because all of Polynesia would've been worse off if Pele and Kamapua'a had actually been married.

You can choose to ignore this mythical precedent if you wish, but I have learned my lesson.

I still want to fall in love and have a big party though.

It's time for another fantasy pantheon pick, and it is my turn to choose a new pick.

Are you ready, Dr. Z?

-Yes, I'm excited.

-Okay.

My pick from the Hawaiian pantheon is Laka.

-Oh.

-Have you heard of her?

Is she the one that's most associated with hula?

-Yes!

-Yay!

-Yeah.

Yeah.

-Okay.

She's the goddess of the hula.

And so she is a goddess of dance, which I think we will absolutely want in our utopia.

Of course.

But she's also a goddess of forest growth and love, and I think that all of that energy is something we want in our perfect world.

Those are three things I really love, so I appreciate that pick.

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