How do we orient ourselves geographically according to a smell that seems specific to a location? More than romantic reverie or other memory trigger, smell of a certain place (or even a person) might indicate something else to us outside of a singular object or event. Perhaps something more broadly biocultural through the sense of our own bodies, individually or en masse, in a relational triangulation of ‘home,’ ‘safety,’ ‘belonging’ or other situated concept. This would occur through an extended and continuous, or intertwined series of experiences with a particular smell present. Furthermore, can a smell be a hyperobject, a networked phenomenon so inter-dimensional or conceptually vast that it evades our full comprehension?1 By inter-dimensional, I mean aspects of being and perceiving that intersect across time, biolog(ies)/ ecolog(ies) and consciousness/ subconsciousness, and even consciousness of the subconscious (supraconsciousness) via spirituality. As an example of smell as hyperobject: certain saints and martyrs are said to exude an “odour of sanctity,” similar to a rose or other sweet flower. This odour is not merely a supposed corporeal olfactory emittance at the time of death (and after) but is associated with a state of divine grace, through a religious concept called myroblytism.2 It is thus both an odour object and an ontological phenomenon with interdimensional aspects, representing profound incorruptibility.3
Physiologically, an ‘odour object’ has already been scientifically defined as a neurosensory phenomenon, and I won’t venture too far into the (fascinating) biomedical research done on the human olfactory bulb and how the memory processing and smell processing regions of the brain are in intimate dialogue.4 I’m mostly interested in the psychogeographical aspects of smell, and how it contributes to the vitality of ‘culture’ in terms of a collective, situated sense of self. When I think about smell as a hyperobject that I am familiar with, I think about my own experiences with the conflation between a place and a thing (smell object), which transcended/transformed both place and thing, and not only for me individually.
When I first landed in Honolulu as a teenager, bedraggled and stinky from the very long flight(s) from Canada’s east coast, I was wonderfully struck in the nose by the heady fragrance of warmed flowers, those used to create the iconic Hawaiian leis. The flowers are warmed not only by local climate but also by proximity to the human body, releasing the odour molecules as its own type of divine exudation when triggered by thermal intimacy. This refreshing miasma of aloha continues to greet me (and others) after every disembarkation, rising from the necks of those around me or from my own neck while I wait tiredly for my luggage to come sliding out onto the airport carousel. It isn’t just the stark contrast between a stale airplane environment and wafts of infused island air that make the experience so striking; this floral scent is most particular to the “ten cent” flower, now sold strung together as the $15 - $50 welcome necklace (the lei).5 Its association is now so reinforced in my mind as to have become the smell of the geography and culture of Hawaii, and moreover, the smell of my self landing and being here.
However, Pua kenikeni as it’s known in Hawaiian language, sp. Fagraea berteriana, the “perfume flower tree,” is a shrub that originates from Northern Australia, as well as New Guinea and the lower South Pacific Islands, along the range of prehistoric human migration patterns in an oceanic geographical swathe known as Austronesia.6 As a ‘modern’ introduction to the Hawaiian islands, the naturalization of this traditional sacred flower has included the adoption of its symbolic uses as a token of divinity and love (aloha). Its convenient morphology of a long, tubular body with petals that open at the top end has facilitated its use as a fleshy bead, easily strung together (shown below). It is the only flower to beautifully endure over a series of days, visually transitioning from white to golden yellow, whilst its heady smell only increases with the passage of time. Its fragrance stays even after it dries, making it ideal as a mnemonic keepsake—almost incorruptible—though no doubt it would not be allowed to be carried back into Australia.7
Pua kenikeni is grown on the islands as a decorative tree (there is one growing here on the farm where I reside, shown above and below), highly appreciated because it flowers continuously, thus perpetually perfuming the air and providing a reliable supply of lei material (and thus, income). As a side note, it is not considered an invasive species but its usefulness is purely aesthetic; the fruits and seeds of the tree are toxic to humans and therefore non-edible.8
As an economic import, it is appropriate then, that the common name, ‘ten cent flower’ (the literal translation of Pua kenikeni) originates from the historical cost of each lei. The newly published poetry book, ten cent flower & other territories by Charity E. Yoro, includes a memoir-like poem of Pua kenikeni smell as mnemonic hyperobject of ‘home.’ Whilst a flower deeply embedded in linguistic and cultural adoption of the foreign in Hawaii, it is ironically re-experienced by Yoro through the lens of alienation in a foreign place (Bangkok); this is a perfect analogy as the Fagraea berteroana never naturalizes.9 Yoro’s eloquent explorations of commerce and culture/ geography in the Hawaiian context also include gorgeous evocations of site-specific soundscapes, as I explored in my last post.10 Most relevant to this post, however, is the poem, ten cent flower, excerpted below:11
in bangkok, i use the back of my hand
to extract a sooty sticky drip from my nose
— the smell of home: puakenikeni.
here, the fragile white flowers grace
shrines the size of birdhouses, next to
bowls of rice & deferential fruit flies &
icy rust-stained bottles of orange fanta.
at home, the sap sticks to children's fingers,
fruit plucked too young from low-hanging
branches, gathered in plastic foodland bags
& strung into congratulatory strands: birthdays,
graduations, just-cuz-aloha-fridays... sweet
stems assaulting saccharine lingering long
after the life of the party, i’ve sung my lineage
for those confused about my exact origins
needing to place and order and root me…
I’m also compelled by the way Yoro addresses the touristic bastardization of Hawaiian geography and culture, in other poems within the book (thesis). The purchase of ‘paradise,’ which I would suggest is widely symbolized at first encounter by the fragrant lei, renders the sacred cliché in the world of tourism. And so, does the smell of Pua kenikeni also do double-duty as the signifier of the superficiality caused by the decontextualization of global trade? Or, perhaps the opposite of incorruptibility, this divine smell now indicates the profound impurity of human culture: its messy overlaps, enmeshments and bleeds. A beatific sensory reminder that the world is, as Yoro describes, “a museum of pretty / stolen things.”12
You make it this far, intrepid intellectual? Then you’re the perfect person to subscribe.
Defined by eco-philosopher, Timothy Morton. For more, see his book, Hyperobjects, here: https://www.upress.umn.edu/book-division/books/hyperobjects
For more, see this Wiki page: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odour_of_sanctity
A fascinating article about this here: https://www.orderofthegooddeath.com/article/the-odour-of-sanctity-when-the-dead-smell-divine/
You can read more on that here: https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/02/how-scent-emotion-and-memory-are-intertwined-and-exploited/ and here: https://www.nature.com/articles/nrn2883
One source describes how the name ‘ten cent flower’ came from the original cost of each flower used for making leis: 10¢. https://imagesofoldhawaii.com/puakenikeni/
Thank you to Santiago Rentería for introducing me to this term and map of the region. For more, see the Wiki article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Austronesian_peoples
See my previous post on the biobureaucracy of Australia’s border control, here:
This website has a downloadable spec sheet on the species: https://plantpono.org/pono-plants/fagraea-berteroana-pua-keni-keni/ but also see the University of Hawaii plant profile page here: https://digital.library.manoa.hawaii.edu/items/show/29573#?c=0&m=0&s=0&cv=1&xywh=-1%2C-509%2C3072%2C3065
This book is available in its original thesis format through university library services: Yoro, C. E. (2021). Ten-cent flower & other territories (Order No. 28498895). Available from ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global. (2572883137). Retrieved from https://www.proquest.com/dissertations-theses/ten-cent-flower-amp-em-other-territories/docview/2572883137/se-2
I’m particularly drawn to Yoro’s portrayals of “unkempt symphony” and “brash birdcall” that resonate with what I recalled of my experiences of Casuarina geographies. Ibid., p. 2.
Ibid., p. 25.
Ibid., p. 25.