The house of pride, and other tales of Hawaii

In Short

These stories document a landscape where traditional Hawaiian life, missionary influence, and Western commercialism intersect with tragic consequences. Through characters ranging from wealthy plantation owners to the disenfranchised lepers of Kalalau, the narrative explores themes of inevitable decline, the cruelty of social exclusion, and the moral compromises required to sustain a colonial economy. The collection has lasted because it does not flinch from the stark realities of its setting, painting a vivid, often painful picture of human ambition and displacement in an era of rapid transition.

The Story

The collection opens with the unsettling experience of Percival Ford, a wealthy and fastidious commercial baron in Honolulu. Ford moves through the social circles of the colonial elite with a sense of superiority, yet he is haunted by a lack of true connection to those around him. His rigidity is challenged when he learns that Joe Garland—a man he has systematically ruined—is actually his own brother, a realization that leaves him hollow even as he remains insulated by his status.

From the drawing rooms of the elite, the perspective shifts to the brutal isolation of the Kalalau Valley. Here, Koolau, a leper, defies the authorities who seek to imprison him in the squalid confines of a colony. His defiance is not merely an act of survival; it is a desperate stand against a society that has introduced disease and then criminalized the victims. Koolau’s final, solitary stand against an army of soldiers and police is a harrowing testament to human resistance against overwhelming, impersonal force.

The narrative continues to probe the fragility of the Hawaiian social order through the lens of individuals caught in its gears. One story details the life of Chun Ah Chun, a man who navigates the complexities of racial intermarriage and immense wealth, only to find that his success cannot shield his family from the predatory nature of the society he helped build. He eventually retreats to Macao, amused by the realization that the world is a fundamentally absurd place.

Other tales follow the tragic trajectories of individuals like Lyte Gregory, a man whose physical and social perfection is shattered when he discovers he has contracted leprosy. His descent from a confident, popular figure to an outcast is immediate and total, highlighting the precariousness of status on the islands. Through these various arcs, the book reveals a cycle of departure and decay. Whether it is the lepers being shipped to Molokai or the social elite waving goodbye to visitors on the docks, the underlying pulse of these stories is one of finality. The collection concludes with the author’s own reflection on his life, framing his literary career as a disciplined pursuit of the boyhood he never had, contrasting his own hard-won stability with the turbulence and "tops-turvy" nature of the islands he depicted.

How It Unfolds

The social divide Percival Ford navigates the superficial world of Honolulu’s elite, projecting an image of cold superiority while remaining willfully blind to the human costs of his own business and personal failures. His eventual discovery of his brother’s identity highlights the profound isolation hidden behind his wealth.

The kingdom of the sick Koolau the leper retreats to a rugged, inaccessible gorge, where he rules over a community of the maimed and dying. His story focuses on his refusal to submit to the authorities, transforming his exile into a fierce, violent act of self-assertion.

The commerce of blood The narrative examines the life of Chun Ah Chun, whose rise from a humble immigrant to a wealthy father of many children illustrates the friction between Chinese heritage and the expectations of the Hawaiian colonial aristocracy. His journey ends in withdrawal, as he opts to observe the chaos of his family’s inheritance disputes from afar.

The sudden fall Lyte Gregory’s story serves as a sharp turning point, demonstrating how quickly an individual can be stripped of health, status, and community upon the diagnosis of leprosy. His desperate denial and subsequent exile reinforce the cruelty of a society that discards those it deems broken.

The final departure The collection closes with scenes of farewell at the Honolulu docks, capturing the atmosphere of a transient society. The author’s concluding autobiographical sketch provides a final lens through which to view these tales, grounding the exotic and often brutal settings in the writer’s own disciplined, restless search for meaning.

The People

Percival Ford is a man who prizes order and "superior mentality," yet he is essentially a coward, defined by his fear of the "grossness of life." His failure to acknowledge his own blood relation, Joe Garland, reveals a man who has sacrificed his humanity for a position of impenetrable social status.

Koolau the leper stands in direct opposition to Ford. Though his body is failing due to his disease, his spirit is unyielding. He views the authorities as thieves who have stolen the land and brought the sickness, and he ends his life as a symbol of defiance, choosing his own terms of death over the humiliation of the colony.

Chun Ah Chun is a master of adaptation who understands the "funny world" better than his European or American counterparts. He successfully builds a dynasty but realizes too late that his children are captive to the very prejudices he helped circumvent. He ends as a cynical, detached observer, having traded the complications of Honolulu for the comfort of his own wealth.

Lyte Gregory starts as the embodiment of "glorious star" optimism, a man for whom life has been "paid in full." His transformation into a leper is a total erasure of the man he was. He ends as a ghost of his former self, cast out from the society he believed embraced him.

In Its Own Voice

"He ruled those women by virtue of his superior mentality, his great wealth, and the high place he occupied in the commercial baronage of Hawaii." — Percival Ford is described in his element, exercising his cold authority over the women who come to him for patronage.

"He was a man among men, and if I had a spare nickel I spent it on beer instead of candy, because I thought it was more manly to buy beer." — The author reflects on his own accelerated and hardscrabble childhood, which shaped his later, more disciplined approach to life and work.

What It's Really About

This collection is a meditation on the moral bankruptcy of colonial power. It argues that the "civilized" structures of the islands are built upon a foundation of exploitation and hypocrisy, where "missionary stock" and "moneyed aristocracy" intermingle to secure their hold on the land. The book constantly questions the legitimacy of those who judge others, contrasting the rigid, judgmental codes of the elite with the raw, chaotic, and often tragic reality of those they marginalize. It suggests that health, status, and wealth are incredibly fragile, and that beneath the music and the perfumed nights of Hawaii lies a reality where human beings are frequently rendered expendable.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate sharp, unsentimental prose will find much to admire in these stories. They offer a vivid, if sometimes unsettling, window into a specific historical moment when Western expansionism was at its peak. The experience of reading these tales is like being told a series of hard truths by someone who has seen the underbelly of a paradise and found it wanting.

However, the reader must be prepared for the period-specific attitudes and the often blunt, occasionally harsh depictions of disease and racial tension prevalent in the early 1900s. The prose is precise and evocative, yet the subject matter is frequently grim. It is not an easy read, and it does not offer comfort or simple redemptions. Instead, it provides a mirror to human vanity and the structural cruelty that often accompanies "progress." What stays with you is the haunting image of the leper colony and the feeling that, for all the beauty of the landscape described, the individuals within these pages are trapped in a cycle of exclusion. It remains a powerful study of how power, once acquired, inevitably creates the conditions for its own moral decay.