Popular Culture Review Vol. 26, No. 2, Summer 2015 | Page 37

Popular Culture Review boundary marker of empire. Such “primitive” women were highly liberating to the western male imagination; they seemed to promise a deliverance from the strict sexual codes imposed on white Christian women. The social historian Anne McClintock describes this effect: As European men crossed the dangerous thresholds of their known worlds, they ritualistically feminized borders and boundaries. Female the blank seas of their maps with mermaids and sirens. Explorers called unknown lands “virgin” territory. Philosophers veiled “Truth” as female, then fantasized about drawing back the veil. In myriad of which men oriented themselves in space, as agents of power and agents of knowledge. (24) But boundaries and borders also can be danger zones, as is indicated in Martin Eden by the Hawaiian woman’s leprosy. This was the illness most feared by threat to white racial purity. Yet the call of the colonial, even with its gender anxieties and threats to the white male body, lures Martin back to the tropics and away from the effete rot of the white metropole. Martin’s fear of alienation and disintegration is deeper than any dread of devolution in “savage” lands. His intensifying (Wylie 98-99). The South Seas are thus constituted as a site for the physical and spiritual reinvigoration of the depleted Edwardian male. The Islands function as a site of western remasculinization as well as an untamed frontier free from restrictive Euro-American codes. Martin’s San Francisco ennui is worsened by the suicide of his friend, Russ Brissender, a defeated poet. In despair over Russ’ death, Martin summons up a catalyzing and transformative Polynesian vision of breakers, he made out a small canoe, an outrigger canoe. In the stern he saw a young bronzed god in scarlet hip-cloth dipping a of Tati, the chief, and this was Tahiti, and beyond that smoking reef lay the sweet land of Papara and the chief’s grass house by the river’s mouth. . . . He knew there was singing among the trees and that the maidens were dancing in the moonlight. . . . (Martin Eden 410) Given that Brissenden was dying of consumption and alcoholism, this robust 34