Polly and Wiki and all the other kuia ride on the roof of Kerry's Toyota Corona with its navy blistered bonnet . . . They do this for all the moko; they are everywhere and roam inside us as they keep weaving the net and it's no small thing that only a few slip through. Time and whakapapa slowly unravel as Talia Marshall weaves her way across Aotearoa in a roster of decaying European cars. Along the way she will meet her father, pick up a ghost, transform into a wharenui, and make cocktail hour with Ans Westra. Men will come Roman, Ben, Isaac and some go. Others linger. And it is these men her father, Paul, and grandfathers Mugwi Macdonald and Jim; her tipuna Nicola Sciascia, tohunga Kipa Hemi Whiro, Kupe himself who she observes as she moves backwards into the future. With her ancestor Tutepourangi she relives Te Rauparaha's bloody legacy, and attempts and fails to write her great historical novel. But it is her wahine, past and present, who carry her, even as the ground behind her smoulders. Tempestuous and haunting, Whaea Blue is a tribute to collective memory, the elasticity of self, and the women we travel through. It is a karanga to and from the abyss. It is a journey to peace.

'This is a wild road trip, frightening and funny. You can taste all the food, see all the ghosts, hear the ancestors. It's a masterclass in honesty. It's one for the wahine. Through Marshall's extraordinary storytelling I saw and laughed with the people she loves, and cried for those she wished had stayed.' -Becky Manawatu

'Whaea Blue is a fiercely original memoir with a fresh Maori perspective, scanning the record of inter-iwi hatreds, curses, war, and colonial aftershocks. In the process, she crafts a complex personal relationship to Maori identity. No one is spared in this droll, lyrical memoir, least of all the author herself. Marshall dives fearlessly into the darkest topics pain, loss, abandonment, violence, death, madness, war and comes up with a testament you won't forget.' -John Dolan

'Marshall's whirlwind prose effortlessly slams the reader with neck-snapping speed from laughter to sorrow to recognition to disbelief and then back again. An uncommonly good debut by an author who is as original as she is undeniable.' -Victor Rodger