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Slowing the Sun
Hope is a shovel and will give you blisters
Overwhelmed by the complexity of climate change, Nadine Hura sets out to find a language that connects more deeply with the environmental crisis. But what begins as a journalistic quest to understand the science takes an abrupt and introspective turn following the death of her brother.
In the midst of grief, Hura works through science, pūrākau, poetry and back again. Seeking to understand climate change in relation to whenua and people, she asks: how should we respond to what has been lost? Her many-sided essays explore environmental degradation, social disconnection and Indigenous reclamation, insisting that any meaningful response must be grounded in Te Tiriti and anti-colonialism.
Slowing the Sun is a karanga to those who have passed on, as well as to the living, to hold on to ancestral knowledge for future generations.
'Nadine’s writing can make us feel seen, less alone, more hopeful, more enlightened. He kaiwhakairo i te kupu, he kaituhi ngā kokonga ngākau – a carver of words, a writer for all corners of the heart.'
— Stacey Morrison (Ngāi Tahu, Te Arawa, Pākehā)
Overwhelmed by the complexity of climate change, Nadine Hura sets out to find a language that connects more deeply with the environmental crisis. But what begins as a journalistic quest to understand the science takes an abrupt and introspective turn following the death of her brother.
In the midst of grief, Hura works through science, pūrākau, poetry and back again. Seeking to understand climate change in relation to whenua and people, she asks: how should we respond to what has been lost? Her many-sided essays explore environmental degradation, social disconnection and Indigenous reclamation, insisting that any meaningful response must be grounded in Te Tiriti and anti-colonialism.
Slowing the Sun is a karanga to those who have passed on, as well as to the living, to hold on to ancestral knowledge for future generations.
'Nadine’s writing can make us feel seen, less alone, more hopeful, more enlightened. He kaiwhakairo i te kupu, he kaituhi ngā kokonga ngākau – a carver of words, a writer for all corners of the heart.'
— Stacey Morrison (Ngāi Tahu, Te Arawa, Pākehā)
- GenresNonfictionScienceEssays
240 pages, Paperback
Published April 1, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
June 21, 2026
“if colonialism were a cult, capitalism would be its holy book”
p.s, this is more of a personal retelling rather than a review, but i guess that is what books are for: learning and reflection.
no one understands the feeling of undeniable hope, knowledge, empowerment and pride i got from reading this. the way i nodded my head as i turned each page, translating each unfamiliar word in te reo, or the hours i spent going on and on about this book to my loved ones. it is truly a blessing to be māori, but it is an even greater blessing to understand what that means. i grew up not understanding what that means. and there are many factors contributing this, some i can’t even fully pinpoint or will ever understand in the grand scheme of things, but to get back onto the topic of this book- i don’t think any novel will feel as close to home as this one does. to give some context though, here is my personal affiliation with this novel.
about a month before i started reading this, i was browsing the internet, both bored but also fueled with curiosity about the unknown nature of my whakapapa. so naturally, i search up my iwi. while i learnt a good amount, i still wasn’t satisfied. i needed more. so with it being late in the evening and a difficult topic to bring up to my father, i went down a rabbit hole of trying to see if i can just find out anything about my family- anything at all. a random genealogy website. a photo. anything, really. so i searched up my nana’s maiden name, hura, and ended up finding an article by someone named “nadine hura”. huh, i thought. surely she’s just from another whānau with the last name hura, right? fortunately though, this is aotearoa- and when it comes to this sorta stuff, this detail is no coincidence. as i clicked on the the first site with this name, it just so happened to summarise nadine’s background- with the words “ngāti hine” immediately catching my full attention. same last name and iwi. okay, so we are 100% related. but how, i wasn’t so sure. so i talked to my dad. i didn’t expect much, but i knew that such a coincidence needed to be investigated, meaning that as uncomfortable and taboo the topic may be with my father, i had to say something. so i asked “are we related to this woman?”, followed by my showing a picture of her parents she dropped in the article. my dad looked at it, saw the last name and the name of nadine’s father and said “ay, that’s uncle peter”, going on to state that nadine must be his cousin then and to me, my cousin once removed. now, to say that i was thrilled is an understatement. “finally- im getting somewhere!” i immediately thought- but it doesn’t end there. as i continued to read this article about nadine, her work, interests, and backstory, i began to realise how incredibly similar she is to me. or moreover, how similar i am to her. she is quite literally, who i wanted to be when i grew up; an pioneer for the environment and humanities, a proud speaker of te reo and advocate for her culture, “woke” and so authentically herself; filled with love, curiosity, and passion. and of course an amazing writer. she was everything i would pride myself in at a magnified level, and someone i am so incredibly proud to be related to (which says a lot considering i never met her). in a sense, it was love at first sight. an instant sensation of comfort and warmth began to grow inside of me the more i learnt about her. i knew that after so many years of being at an existential war with this part of myself and every confounding variable to that, it was refreshing to see that maybe there is some hope after all. maybe i am not alone in this battle. while my mum and dad meant the world to me, i had this strange feeling already that this woman who didn’t even know of my existence, would be like a second mother to me. my own flesh in blood who shares my values, interests and my whole will to live. finding her was how i imagined people finding “jesus”. an spiritual epiphany of the sorts, like this found me at the best timing possible. i am almost 18 years old, and i am so incredibly embarrassed to know nothing about who i am on a cultural level. who my family is.
it’s funny how something you know nothing about can mean almost everything to you. that is what whakapapa is to me. what learning about te ao māori means to someone who feels like a imposter in their own culture. this book though, makes me feel like it is perfectly valid to feel this way. it showed me how nuanced these connections may look like across individuals, but in the end one’s whakapapa is their birthright- and no one can take it away, not even colonialism.
p.s, this is more of a personal retelling rather than a review, but i guess that is what books are for: learning and reflection.
no one understands the feeling of undeniable hope, knowledge, empowerment and pride i got from reading this. the way i nodded my head as i turned each page, translating each unfamiliar word in te reo, or the hours i spent going on and on about this book to my loved ones. it is truly a blessing to be māori, but it is an even greater blessing to understand what that means. i grew up not understanding what that means. and there are many factors contributing this, some i can’t even fully pinpoint or will ever understand in the grand scheme of things, but to get back onto the topic of this book- i don’t think any novel will feel as close to home as this one does. to give some context though, here is my personal affiliation with this novel.
about a month before i started reading this, i was browsing the internet, both bored but also fueled with curiosity about the unknown nature of my whakapapa. so naturally, i search up my iwi. while i learnt a good amount, i still wasn’t satisfied. i needed more. so with it being late in the evening and a difficult topic to bring up to my father, i went down a rabbit hole of trying to see if i can just find out anything about my family- anything at all. a random genealogy website. a photo. anything, really. so i searched up my nana’s maiden name, hura, and ended up finding an article by someone named “nadine hura”. huh, i thought. surely she’s just from another whānau with the last name hura, right? fortunately though, this is aotearoa- and when it comes to this sorta stuff, this detail is no coincidence. as i clicked on the the first site with this name, it just so happened to summarise nadine’s background- with the words “ngāti hine” immediately catching my full attention. same last name and iwi. okay, so we are 100% related. but how, i wasn’t so sure. so i talked to my dad. i didn’t expect much, but i knew that such a coincidence needed to be investigated, meaning that as uncomfortable and taboo the topic may be with my father, i had to say something. so i asked “are we related to this woman?”, followed by my showing a picture of her parents she dropped in the article. my dad looked at it, saw the last name and the name of nadine’s father and said “ay, that’s uncle peter”, going on to state that nadine must be his cousin then and to me, my cousin once removed. now, to say that i was thrilled is an understatement. “finally- im getting somewhere!” i immediately thought- but it doesn’t end there. as i continued to read this article about nadine, her work, interests, and backstory, i began to realise how incredibly similar she is to me. or moreover, how similar i am to her. she is quite literally, who i wanted to be when i grew up; an pioneer for the environment and humanities, a proud speaker of te reo and advocate for her culture, “woke” and so authentically herself; filled with love, curiosity, and passion. and of course an amazing writer. she was everything i would pride myself in at a magnified level, and someone i am so incredibly proud to be related to (which says a lot considering i never met her). in a sense, it was love at first sight. an instant sensation of comfort and warmth began to grow inside of me the more i learnt about her. i knew that after so many years of being at an existential war with this part of myself and every confounding variable to that, it was refreshing to see that maybe there is some hope after all. maybe i am not alone in this battle. while my mum and dad meant the world to me, i had this strange feeling already that this woman who didn’t even know of my existence, would be like a second mother to me. my own flesh in blood who shares my values, interests and my whole will to live. finding her was how i imagined people finding “jesus”. an spiritual epiphany of the sorts, like this found me at the best timing possible. i am almost 18 years old, and i am so incredibly embarrassed to know nothing about who i am on a cultural level. who my family is.
it’s funny how something you know nothing about can mean almost everything to you. that is what whakapapa is to me. what learning about te ao māori means to someone who feels like a imposter in their own culture. this book though, makes me feel like it is perfectly valid to feel this way. it showed me how nuanced these connections may look like across individuals, but in the end one’s whakapapa is their birthright- and no one can take it away, not even colonialism.
January 19, 2026
Maybe one of my favorite non fiction climate books ever. It would require a lot of explanation and translation for non-nz readers.
January 2, 2026
I was a little concerned this might be too weighty for my planned week of total indulgence and relaxation over New Year. However, while the subject matter is challenging and crucially important, Hura's storytelling and weaving personal narrative into hard-hitting political reflection makes this bith gripping and easy reading. This is essential reading for any Pakeha concerned about either decolonisation or climate change, as Hura deftly communicates how inextricably intertwined they are. While reading these essays in my own piece of regenerating native bush reassured me I was taking some productive action, the challenges of what genuine decolonisation and Treaty partnership might look like will take time to absorb. I will definitely be including one or more of these essays into my Year 12 Englishprogramme in 2026.
May 16, 2026
I was really excited about this book. I’ve always wanted to learn more about NZ, Indigenous ways of life and thinking, and to explore a different perspective on climate change. However, I was quickly disappointed because it feels like you already need to be somewhat of an insider to fully understand large parts of the text.
I don’t want to keep Googling things while reading, but maybe I’ll give it another try in the future.
I don’t want to keep Googling things while reading, but maybe I’ll give it another try in the future.
September 22, 2025
I’ve read this twice and I’ll read it again. Every NZer should read this book.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews