“Yes, indeed, the savages have taught many things to the man of an old civilization; these ignorant men have taught him much in the art of living and happiness. Above all, they have taught me to know myself better; they have told me the deepest truth. Was this thy secret, thou mysterious world? Oh mysterious world of all light, thou hast made a light shine within me, and I have grown in admiration of thy antique beauty, which is the immemorial youth of nature. I have become better for having understood and having loved thy human soul— a flower which has ceased to bloom and whose fragrance no one henceforth will breathe.”
Paul Gauguin, Noa Noa
The passage above comes from the end of Paul Gauguin’s travel journal in Tahiti entitled Noa Noa. Literally meaning “fragrant, fragrant”, the phrase noa noa is introduced to the reader at the end of the opening chapter when Gauguin describes the intoxicating scent of the Tahitian women upon his arrival. “A mingled perfume,” he writes, “half animal, half vegetable emanated from them; the perfume of their blood and of the gardenias— tiaré— which all wore in their hair. ‘Téiné merahi noa noa (now very fragrant),’ [the women] said.” (Gauguin 8).
During his first visit to Tahiti (1891-3), Gauguin documented his experiences on this two-year journey from beginning to end, even starting with his initial disappointment at the overwhelming presence of French civilization in Polynesia. Upon viewing the queen of the island at her husband’s funeral, however, Gauguin is taken by her “Maori charm” (Gauguin 6) marking the beginning of his passionate love affair with Tahiti. Gauguin not only recorded his personal encounters with the land, the people, and specifically the women, but he also made his journal a sort of anthropological report: providing first-hand accounts of their customs, religious beliefs and cultural history. In one section, Gauguin even discusses Tahitian astronomy, listing mythical histories behind the names of the stars, and the Polynesian version of Genesis, even complete with detailed accounts of whom originally begat who, as is provided in the Old Testament of the Bible.
While it is important to remember that Noa Noa is a journal and lacks the objectivity needed for a truly comprehensive and factual account of nineteenth century Tahiti, this bias gives us a personal window into what Gauguin saw through his eyes. The juxtaposition of sketches mixed with his own words allowed Gauguin to provide us with the Tahiti that he wanted to share with the world. One of the most interesting artistic elements of his original manuscript was his series of ten woodcuts that he intended to publish as a part of the journal. Drawn to the “primitive” techniques and materials used in this artform, Gauguin even used unsophisticated tools to achieve a new, less traditional print (Chapman, GroveArt.com). Unfortunately, as Noa Noa was considered “a bit much for stuffy 1900 Europe” (Gauguin ix), Gauguin had to publish the journal himself and omit the woodcuts. In newer versions of Noa Noa, however, the woodcuts have been included alongside his words and several of his original sketches.
In all, perhaps the most valuable thing to come out of Gauguin’s accounts in Noa Noa is an intimate look into the motive behind many of his great works of art. Frequent themes in the journal are also found throughout his works such as Polynesian mythical culture, Tahitian women, androgynous figures, sexual freedom, and the beauty of this Paradise on Earth. In the spirit of a true artist, Gauguin even has his journal come full circle as he ends the book with the flower that his wife once wore behind her ear, now wilted on her knee, a symbol of the end of a journey that opened with an introduction to the flowered, fragrant women observed at the start, who would eventually become the inspiration for such an important period in his life and career.