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No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies: A Lyric Essay
A Michelle Obama Reach Higher Fall 2022 reading list pick
A Library Journal "BEST BOOK OF 2022"
"Aguon’s book is for everyone, but he challenges history by placing indigenous consciousness at the center of his project . . . the most tender polemic I’ve ever read."
—Lenika Cruz, The Atlantic
"It's clear [Aguon] poured his whole heart into this slim book . . . [his] sense of hope, fierce determination, and love for his people and culture permeates every page."
—Laura Sackton, BookRiot
Part memoir, part manifesto, Chamorro climate activist Julian Aguon’s No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies is a collection of essays on resistance, resilience, and collective power in the age of climate disaster; and a call for justice—for everyone, but in particular, for Indigenous peoples.
In bracing poetry and compelling prose, Aguon weaves together stories from his childhood in the villages of Guam with searing political commentary about matters ranging from nuclear weapons to global warming. Undertaking the work of bearing witness, wrestling with the most pressing questions of the modern day, and reckoning with the challenge of truth-telling in an era of rampant obfuscation, he culls from his own life experiences—from losing his father to pancreatic cancer to working for Mother Teresa to an edifying chance encounter with Sherman Alexie—to illuminate a collective path out of the darkness.
A powerful, bold, new voice writing at the intersection of Indigenous rights and environmental justice, Julian Aguon is entrenched in the struggles of the people of the Pacific to liberate themselves from colonial rule, defend their sacred sites, and obtain justice for generations of harm. In No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies, Aguon shares his wisdom and reflections on love, grief, joy, and triumph and extends an offer to join him in a hard-earned hope for a better world.
A Library Journal "BEST BOOK OF 2022"
"Aguon’s book is for everyone, but he challenges history by placing indigenous consciousness at the center of his project . . . the most tender polemic I’ve ever read."
—Lenika Cruz, The Atlantic
"It's clear [Aguon] poured his whole heart into this slim book . . . [his] sense of hope, fierce determination, and love for his people and culture permeates every page."
—Laura Sackton, BookRiot
Part memoir, part manifesto, Chamorro climate activist Julian Aguon’s No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies is a collection of essays on resistance, resilience, and collective power in the age of climate disaster; and a call for justice—for everyone, but in particular, for Indigenous peoples.
In bracing poetry and compelling prose, Aguon weaves together stories from his childhood in the villages of Guam with searing political commentary about matters ranging from nuclear weapons to global warming. Undertaking the work of bearing witness, wrestling with the most pressing questions of the modern day, and reckoning with the challenge of truth-telling in an era of rampant obfuscation, he culls from his own life experiences—from losing his father to pancreatic cancer to working for Mother Teresa to an edifying chance encounter with Sherman Alexie—to illuminate a collective path out of the darkness.
A powerful, bold, new voice writing at the intersection of Indigenous rights and environmental justice, Julian Aguon is entrenched in the struggles of the people of the Pacific to liberate themselves from colonial rule, defend their sacred sites, and obtain justice for generations of harm. In No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies, Aguon shares his wisdom and reflections on love, grief, joy, and triumph and extends an offer to join him in a hard-earned hope for a better world.
120 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 13, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 283 reviews
February 15, 2023
No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies is a great book, personal and global and everything in between. It will definitely be in my top five reads of the year. Julian Aguon is a human rights attorney. His childhood spent in the villages of Guam has made him keenly aware of the issues facing indigenous peoples and the dangers of colonialism. This slim volume of poems, essays, and speeches emphasizes the importance of bearing witness and packs more punch per page than any book I have read in a long time. His passion and insight reminds me of another great writer and environmentalist, Barry Lopez. As I set the book aside, I feel laden with the collective guilt of the political decisions made by the United States. There is no excuse for our failure, once known, to fix what we have damaged. I wholeheartedly recommend No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies: A Lyric Essay.
I am grateful for receiving a drc from Astra Publishing House via Netgalley.
I am grateful for receiving a drc from Astra Publishing House via Netgalley.
October 28, 2025
after reading this book, I want to do more of what I care about and not shy away from witnessing the world. one to read again and to lend to loved ones.
September 10, 2022
5 stars
I am grateful to the publisher Astra Publishing House for sending me an advanced copy of this book for review.
Wow, what an amazing read! This collection of essays really showcases the breadth of sentiments surrounding the colonial identity of Guam, and the daily pressures the native people face. I have been meaning to read from this author for a long time, but I still haven't gotten around to The Properties of Perpetual Light; however, I will remedy that soon because this memoir just made me more eager for novel by Aguon.
In this memoir we cover so much ground, which is quite remarkable for a work of such few pages. The combination of anecdotes from the life of the author, as well as harrowing descriptions of larger historical events that affected and continue to affect the people of the Pacific, was gripping, emotional, and angering. However, the author does weave a thread of hope through all of these stories encoraging us to not simply sink into despair at the state of things, but to look forward to change. This book talks about government, the environment and climate change, expectations placed on the shoulders of the youth, writing, activism, and the importance of identity and heritage.
The writing here was stunning, and every essay was impactful and thought provoking. Have you ever wondered if it’s possible for writing to be simultaneously raw and polished? With this prose, Aguon says a resounding yes. I think everybody needs to read this book, so... I recommend this book to everyone.
I am grateful to the publisher Astra Publishing House for sending me an advanced copy of this book for review.
Wow, what an amazing read! This collection of essays really showcases the breadth of sentiments surrounding the colonial identity of Guam, and the daily pressures the native people face. I have been meaning to read from this author for a long time, but I still haven't gotten around to The Properties of Perpetual Light; however, I will remedy that soon because this memoir just made me more eager for novel by Aguon.
In this memoir we cover so much ground, which is quite remarkable for a work of such few pages. The combination of anecdotes from the life of the author, as well as harrowing descriptions of larger historical events that affected and continue to affect the people of the Pacific, was gripping, emotional, and angering. However, the author does weave a thread of hope through all of these stories encoraging us to not simply sink into despair at the state of things, but to look forward to change. This book talks about government, the environment and climate change, expectations placed on the shoulders of the youth, writing, activism, and the importance of identity and heritage.
The writing here was stunning, and every essay was impactful and thought provoking. Have you ever wondered if it’s possible for writing to be simultaneously raw and polished? With this prose, Aguon says a resounding yes. I think everybody needs to read this book, so... I recommend this book to everyone.
August 10, 2022
This book is something special.
I don't want to take the same line as everyone else in saying how important this book is in an age of postcolonialism. It is, don't get me wrong - reading books from people that weren't granted the same rights as I was as a European male is something very eye-opening. I'd even say it's relevant for forming my own identity, but that is something personal. Then again, people who act like they suddenly became enlightened after reading these perspectives shouldn't be trusted either. I said "eye-opening" because we Europeans do know the harm we're inflicting on others, we just conveniently choose to look away every day. But that's something different again, so...
I'll stop talking about that.
What I want to talk about is the prose, the way of conveying information this book chooses. Because in my opinion, it's just not good. First off, the structure itself. Its patchwork style of essays, letters, speeches and poems (?) could theoretically work, but in practice it reads like someone just slapped together some old texts and called it a day. I don't see a guiding thread that leads me through the different pieces. The only thematical link is the postcolonial activism of the author, but besides that: different tones, different target audiences, different quality. Some texts are very emotional and personal, while others are weirdly bureaucratic (not in a Kafka kind of sense, more like in an "I don't get what this law is all about" kind of sense). And it could work if the prose wasn't very rough at times (for your information, I read this book in German, so this point might not be that bad for you).
Especially the speeches seem to fall off. One example: Aguon's graduation. It may have been a good speech for that specific day, but I just don't feel taken along at all. Instead I feel like I snuck my way into the backstage area like an old creep and had to listen to something that was not intended for me. I can see that these texts are meant to be personal documents of his activism, but I need more information, more insights. I'm not able to empathize with someone I know so little about. To me, it seems like the author wrote the book for his friends.
And this leads me to another important point: The whole book is a circlejerk for a certain niche of authors. It starts with the foreword written by Arundhati Roy that delivers an impressing eulogy on the work the reader is about to experience themselves. That just feels like I'm being manipulated into liking this book. But it doesn't stop there. Aguon has these little footnotes that tell the reader everything about any reference one might possibly find in this book. Most of them are something like "this or that word or sentence is from the [insert magnificient, wonderful or great] book from [insert author]". Seriously: why? I won't read the random book you've pushed on me if I don't know it and if I do I don't need your footnote. I sincerely believe it's there to butter up these other authors.
But this is just the symptom of another weak point. That is the unclear target audience. You may have noticed this in my other criticisms but this book doesn't know who it's talking to. As someone who isn't in the author's bubble it's quite difficult to follow sometimes because I don't know the laws, people or places mentioned there. On the other hand the self-declared goal of the author is to fight for indigenous people's rights globally. But all I can get from this book is a dull sense of righteousness and heroic activism. That's cool, but please - give me more to chew on.
I could go on for quite some time but I'll end it here. In order to not make this completely negative I will say something I've enjoyed, and that is the author's ability to tell stories. In some rare instances it felt like I could really catch a glimpse of Guam's reality. That was when Aguon talked about his blue school bag, about details, really - because they made me empathize. It's obvious that this author can tell good stories. So get me more of these and less of the former.
I don't want to take the same line as everyone else in saying how important this book is in an age of postcolonialism. It is, don't get me wrong - reading books from people that weren't granted the same rights as I was as a European male is something very eye-opening. I'd even say it's relevant for forming my own identity, but that is something personal. Then again, people who act like they suddenly became enlightened after reading these perspectives shouldn't be trusted either. I said "eye-opening" because we Europeans do know the harm we're inflicting on others, we just conveniently choose to look away every day. But that's something different again, so...
I'll stop talking about that.
What I want to talk about is the prose, the way of conveying information this book chooses. Because in my opinion, it's just not good. First off, the structure itself. Its patchwork style of essays, letters, speeches and poems (?) could theoretically work, but in practice it reads like someone just slapped together some old texts and called it a day. I don't see a guiding thread that leads me through the different pieces. The only thematical link is the postcolonial activism of the author, but besides that: different tones, different target audiences, different quality. Some texts are very emotional and personal, while others are weirdly bureaucratic (not in a Kafka kind of sense, more like in an "I don't get what this law is all about" kind of sense). And it could work if the prose wasn't very rough at times (for your information, I read this book in German, so this point might not be that bad for you).
Especially the speeches seem to fall off. One example: Aguon's graduation. It may have been a good speech for that specific day, but I just don't feel taken along at all. Instead I feel like I snuck my way into the backstage area like an old creep and had to listen to something that was not intended for me. I can see that these texts are meant to be personal documents of his activism, but I need more information, more insights. I'm not able to empathize with someone I know so little about. To me, it seems like the author wrote the book for his friends.
And this leads me to another important point: The whole book is a circlejerk for a certain niche of authors. It starts with the foreword written by Arundhati Roy that delivers an impressing eulogy on the work the reader is about to experience themselves. That just feels like I'm being manipulated into liking this book. But it doesn't stop there. Aguon has these little footnotes that tell the reader everything about any reference one might possibly find in this book. Most of them are something like "this or that word or sentence is from the [insert magnificient, wonderful or great] book from [insert author]". Seriously: why? I won't read the random book you've pushed on me if I don't know it and if I do I don't need your footnote. I sincerely believe it's there to butter up these other authors.
But this is just the symptom of another weak point. That is the unclear target audience. You may have noticed this in my other criticisms but this book doesn't know who it's talking to. As someone who isn't in the author's bubble it's quite difficult to follow sometimes because I don't know the laws, people or places mentioned there. On the other hand the self-declared goal of the author is to fight for indigenous people's rights globally. But all I can get from this book is a dull sense of righteousness and heroic activism. That's cool, but please - give me more to chew on.
I could go on for quite some time but I'll end it here. In order to not make this completely negative I will say something I've enjoyed, and that is the author's ability to tell stories. In some rare instances it felt like I could really catch a glimpse of Guam's reality. That was when Aguon talked about his blue school bag, about details, really - because they made me empathize. It's obvious that this author can tell good stories. So get me more of these and less of the former.
September 28, 2022
I was fortunate enough to hear Julian Aguon speak about this book at the Harvard bookstore and I immediately knew I had to buy it. I went to the event because his persona, his legacy, called to me as a life worth emulating. But I bought the book because his passion and heart and call for quiet reached out to me like a life raft in a storm. This work is beautiful and fierce, and reading it felt like warm soup in winter and a pep talk before a fight. We all need quiet, and we all need strength, and Julian Aguon has offered us both. Tenderly, and with an appreciation for opulence in service of liberation.
September 11, 2024
Dear librarians, thank you for all the time and effort you put into themed book displays. They are wonderful means of encountering books I otherwise wouldn't have known about. No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies: A Lyric Essay is one such discovery, a collection of short (some very short) pieces by an environmental activist lawyer from Guam. The cover caught my eye and the blurb proved intriguing. Aguon writes beautifully in prose and poetry about colonialism, justice, defending the environment, Guam's indigenous culture, and significant moments in his life. Some of the pieces are speeches he's given, others short statements or reflections. I particularly liked the poem 'We Have No Need for Scientists', which includes the excellent line, 'The inundated need no instruction in inundation'.
I admit that prior to reading this book I could not have located Guam on a map (although to be honest I couldn't point to where Manchester or Birmingham are either; maps are really not my forte). I looked it up and was astonished by how isolated the island looks in the Western Pacific Ocean. Guam is an unincorporated territory of the USA, thus has very limited self-government. The Pacific islands occupied by America also have a history of being used for nuclear testing, without consideration of the horrific impact this would have on indigenous people. Aguon writes movingly about these topics and fighting for Guam's political self-determination:
I appreciated his joyful recommendations of books that influenced him and engaging use of footnotes for commentary. It's also fun to read a discussion between the author and an old friend about the book, included at the end. I always enjoy getting insight into how collections of short writing are put together; what decisions are made about inclusion, editing, and so on. No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies: A Lyric Essay is a little gem of a book that treats harsh topics with hope and grace.
I admit that prior to reading this book I could not have located Guam on a map (although to be honest I couldn't point to where Manchester or Birmingham are either; maps are really not my forte). I looked it up and was astonished by how isolated the island looks in the Western Pacific Ocean. Guam is an unincorporated territory of the USA, thus has very limited self-government. The Pacific islands occupied by America also have a history of being used for nuclear testing, without consideration of the horrific impact this would have on indigenous people. Aguon writes movingly about these topics and fighting for Guam's political self-determination:
Indeed, part of our work as people who dare to believe we can save the world is to prepare our wills to withstand some losing, so that we may lose and still set out again, anyhow.
I for one, especially of late, feel like I'm at a funeral when go home. I see her: Guam, as a fishbowl for so many different kinds of dying. As many of you know, while here with you, I've been there too. My focus is always split. Three years later, I can tell you: the pipes of everything I've wanted so desperately to stop are being fitted and laid. Despite how wide our movement has grown and how fiercely articulate the generation rising to challenge the changing tide, we are losing.
But then, if I am quiet enough, I hear them, trooping in: the women who taught me how to go about this business of keeping on keeping on.
I appreciated his joyful recommendations of books that influenced him and engaging use of footnotes for commentary. It's also fun to read a discussion between the author and an old friend about the book, included at the end. I always enjoy getting insight into how collections of short writing are put together; what decisions are made about inclusion, editing, and so on. No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies: A Lyric Essay is a little gem of a book that treats harsh topics with hope and grace.
May 3, 2025
Racism, global warming, and capitalism are all inseparably intertwined!!!!! They have to be discussed together!!!!
July 31, 2024
Het liefst zou ik tien sterren geven.
“I argued that in the fight against climate change - the fight of our lives - we will not win by way of facts. But we might by way of stories.” - Julian Aguon
“I argued that in the fight against climate change - the fight of our lives - we will not win by way of facts. But we might by way of stories.” - Julian Aguon
December 16, 2024
This was an essay collection that covers topics including climate change, colonialism, grief, writing, and more. There are some really strong essays in here as well as a few that had points that I felt really needed more. So in this way, I think that some of this would have benefitted from being longer form to dig into nuances that are sometimes mentioned only briefly. But this covers a lot of really interesting and important ground overall, especially looking at the environment, the military, and what is happening politically in Guam
April 23, 2024
Really beautiful little book - challenging and personal
and connective! Thank you to Priyanka for the review that inspired me to read it!!
and connective! Thank you to Priyanka for the review that inspired me to read it!!
December 15, 2022
This book is really something special, a moving small volume by poet, writer, and Indigenous Human Rights lawyer Julian Aguon. It is a remarkable set of essays, speeches, remembrances, and poetry which point to the interiority of life experience as well as our global connectedness. It is also a love letter to those who've paved the way and helped us find the contours of the justice we seek.
Do not skip intro. It's a little triumph of its own.
I found myself taking notes almost immediately, because I didn't want to lose track of his ideas.
I started with an exercise I'll call "A Guide to Saving the World":
1) You must care. Your actions must originate from your fierce love for this Earth of ours.
2) All hands on deck. You cannot do this alone, and you cannot leave it up to others.
3) Your contribution need not be great, but it does require an immersive and up-close experiential component. If you are too far removed from those most affected, you may not act with the same fervor.
4) Everyone can help. Resist litmus tests. Concentrate on the work. Be open to all sources of help.
5) Aim for the strength of community, and reject the old habit of chasing after individual power.
6) Do not let the fear of failure prevent you from fighting the good fight for what's right. You won't win every time, but you might just win over time.
7) Let the habits of the steady among you encourage you and keep you balanced.
The author's perspective is rich with both contemplation and experience. He has considered what to do when the unthinkable is actually possible, even probable. Probable doesn't mean unstoppable, however, and the space between those two states of being are where his words stretch and grow.
Aguon reserves a reverent and abundant love for writers who have unlocked humanity. He is anxious to pass on the lessons which have shaped him:
a) The positions of community activist and political representative are not only dissimilar, they're often at odds. We tend to revere and remember the least and forget the greatest among us.
b) The purpose of freedom is to free someone else.
Early in life, Aguon questioned the role of social outreach. Is it enough to treat the symptoms of inequality, or is it better to work to correct the sources of problem? He also learned early on in his activist career that the belief that things cannot change is potentially worse than any other state of being. Complacency is the enemy of justice.
As a lawyer, the author brings up the injustice of the continuing colonization practices of the United States. How can a country refuse to grant self-determination to a territory while the same country also refuses to allow its participation? This leaves Guam in a state of stifled powerlessness.
It is difficult to effect change through the law, because the American justice system is set up to serve the needs of the state and to preserve the status quo. The justice system is not particularly concerned with justice, but rather with justification.
It is when you stand up for what's right, regardless of its popularity and without regard for the negative consequences for yourself, that's when you find your tribe.
We have to face the world we've got, not the one we wish it were, so we may certainly have trepidation, but we should always go in prepared and clear-eyed about our purpose.
This is just a scattershot of my reflections about the book, and about what struck me. You will have illuminations of your own to share. And I hope you share your thoughts, and that those thoughts turn into action, because we have a planet to save.
Do not skip intro. It's a little triumph of its own.
I found myself taking notes almost immediately, because I didn't want to lose track of his ideas.
I started with an exercise I'll call "A Guide to Saving the World":
1) You must care. Your actions must originate from your fierce love for this Earth of ours.
2) All hands on deck. You cannot do this alone, and you cannot leave it up to others.
3) Your contribution need not be great, but it does require an immersive and up-close experiential component. If you are too far removed from those most affected, you may not act with the same fervor.
4) Everyone can help. Resist litmus tests. Concentrate on the work. Be open to all sources of help.
5) Aim for the strength of community, and reject the old habit of chasing after individual power.
6) Do not let the fear of failure prevent you from fighting the good fight for what's right. You won't win every time, but you might just win over time.
7) Let the habits of the steady among you encourage you and keep you balanced.
The author's perspective is rich with both contemplation and experience. He has considered what to do when the unthinkable is actually possible, even probable. Probable doesn't mean unstoppable, however, and the space between those two states of being are where his words stretch and grow.
Aguon reserves a reverent and abundant love for writers who have unlocked humanity. He is anxious to pass on the lessons which have shaped him:
a) The positions of community activist and political representative are not only dissimilar, they're often at odds. We tend to revere and remember the least and forget the greatest among us.
b) The purpose of freedom is to free someone else.
Early in life, Aguon questioned the role of social outreach. Is it enough to treat the symptoms of inequality, or is it better to work to correct the sources of problem? He also learned early on in his activist career that the belief that things cannot change is potentially worse than any other state of being. Complacency is the enemy of justice.
As a lawyer, the author brings up the injustice of the continuing colonization practices of the United States. How can a country refuse to grant self-determination to a territory while the same country also refuses to allow its participation? This leaves Guam in a state of stifled powerlessness.
It is difficult to effect change through the law, because the American justice system is set up to serve the needs of the state and to preserve the status quo. The justice system is not particularly concerned with justice, but rather with justification.
It is when you stand up for what's right, regardless of its popularity and without regard for the negative consequences for yourself, that's when you find your tribe.
We have to face the world we've got, not the one we wish it were, so we may certainly have trepidation, but we should always go in prepared and clear-eyed about our purpose.
This is just a scattershot of my reflections about the book, and about what struck me. You will have illuminations of your own to share. And I hope you share your thoughts, and that those thoughts turn into action, because we have a planet to save.
January 4, 2025
a collection of beautiful and deeply moving essays. i wish words came to me the way they do for julian aguon. one piece in particular made me think a lot about my best friends back home and how one of them recently made a brave decision: to leave guam.
my friend is well-loved in her community. she is wonderfully kind and unapologetically soft. she is also one of few people who simultaneously challenges me to be better yet makes me feel that i am wonderful just as i am (i thank my lucky stars for her friendship). something aguon puts forward in his work is to lean into the quiet. when you really listen, you can hear the whisper of your heart guiding you to where you should be. it seems that my friend has been able to quiet the noise in her life as she gears up to set sail towards new places. i not only feel excited for her to experience more of the world but also happy that the world will get to experience more of her.
as aguon puts it: "when we do what we love, we nourish the soul of the world." and knowing her, she will find her way back to guåhan eventually—holding everything the world has shared with her in her hands—ready to offer it all back to her island in a heartbeat.
my friend is well-loved in her community. she is wonderfully kind and unapologetically soft. she is also one of few people who simultaneously challenges me to be better yet makes me feel that i am wonderful just as i am (i thank my lucky stars for her friendship). something aguon puts forward in his work is to lean into the quiet. when you really listen, you can hear the whisper of your heart guiding you to where you should be. it seems that my friend has been able to quiet the noise in her life as she gears up to set sail towards new places. i not only feel excited for her to experience more of the world but also happy that the world will get to experience more of her.
as aguon puts it: "when we do what we love, we nourish the soul of the world." and knowing her, she will find her way back to guåhan eventually—holding everything the world has shared with her in her hands—ready to offer it all back to her island in a heartbeat.
June 7, 2022
*I received an eARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.*
This book is... so much more than I expected. A collection from an indegneous climate activist and lawyer that range from essays to speeches given at graduations to poems. Part memoir, part political commentary this collection hit hard. It had me highlighting on nearly every page and feeling every emotion.
I do not have words that can do the impact of this work justice. All I can say is please read it!
This book is... so much more than I expected. A collection from an indegneous climate activist and lawyer that range from essays to speeches given at graduations to poems. Part memoir, part political commentary this collection hit hard. It had me highlighting on nearly every page and feeling every emotion.
I do not have words that can do the impact of this work justice. All I can say is please read it!
June 13, 2023
Had me bawling my eyes out on a flight after reading yugu means yoke. Loved this book so much.
March 16, 2025
[3.5 stars]
This is a brief collection of essays, speeches, and other reflections that covers important topics related to the colonization of Guam and the Marianas by the United States. A climate lawyer and activist, Aguon covers the fight for libration and climate freedom on behalf of his homeland. While I enjoyed many of the reflections in this collection, and I learned about an area I have not previously read from before (an error on my part, due to my country's heavy involvement in the area), I struggled with finding a cohesive thread to what I was reading. Climate change and the fight for liberation is definitely there, but it's not cohesively woven into all of the pieces. I did love how, clearly, Aguon loves the writers who have inspired him (majority women of color and other Native/Indigenous women) and that he uplifts their work and their importance in his own activism and writing. I just wanted there to be more of a cohesive thread throughout this.
I do still very much recommend this, though heavy trigger warning for the essay "Fighting Words," which covers the "banality of brutality" and, while very important, does get very graphic in a way I wasn't expecting because it was a tone change from the rest of the collection.
This is a brief collection of essays, speeches, and other reflections that covers important topics related to the colonization of Guam and the Marianas by the United States. A climate lawyer and activist, Aguon covers the fight for libration and climate freedom on behalf of his homeland. While I enjoyed many of the reflections in this collection, and I learned about an area I have not previously read from before (an error on my part, due to my country's heavy involvement in the area), I struggled with finding a cohesive thread to what I was reading. Climate change and the fight for liberation is definitely there, but it's not cohesively woven into all of the pieces. I did love how, clearly, Aguon loves the writers who have inspired him (majority women of color and other Native/Indigenous women) and that he uplifts their work and their importance in his own activism and writing. I just wanted there to be more of a cohesive thread throughout this.
I do still very much recommend this, though heavy trigger warning for the essay "Fighting Words," which covers the "banality of brutality" and, while very important, does get very graphic in a way I wasn't expecting because it was a tone change from the rest of the collection.
April 14, 2023
for me, growing up in hawaii meant growing up with the ever-looming presence of the us military and basic knowledge about our micronesian neighbors. maybe i learned the facts of atomic bomb testing, but reading their stories hits in a completely different way.
i sit here on a 90 degree day in april in New York City because the world is warming. i know the people enjoying the summer weather next to me aren’t thinking about the islands literally falling into the sea, the people who aren’t creating the problem being the ones facing the brunt of its impact.
this collection of essays was so beautifully done. i would say i cried more times than i can count on my fingers, which is quite a feat given that this book clocks in at just over 100 pages. this book is painful, but it’s resilient, too. sending my love to activists like aguon fighting for climate and indigenous rights. a must read
i sit here on a 90 degree day in april in New York City because the world is warming. i know the people enjoying the summer weather next to me aren’t thinking about the islands literally falling into the sea, the people who aren’t creating the problem being the ones facing the brunt of its impact.
this collection of essays was so beautifully done. i would say i cried more times than i can count on my fingers, which is quite a feat given that this book clocks in at just over 100 pages. this book is painful, but it’s resilient, too. sending my love to activists like aguon fighting for climate and indigenous rights. a must read
November 28, 2023
Ok WOW. This collection of short essays & poems is by far the most breathtaking and heart wrenching thing I’ve read all hear. This book left me feeling brave and hopeful and tender about the future of Indigenous rights and climate activism which is, quite honestly, a difficult task. Please read - this book is so special!!!!!!!!!
November 29, 2023
“When we do what we love, we nourish the soul of the world. When we do something else, something we don't love, we run the risk not only of being very unhappy people, but of hurting other people as well, even people we supposedly love.” A beautiful and eye open collection of poems and stories from Guam.
January 6, 2024
Quick little read but an important one. Highlights the struggles of the people of Guam under U.S. colonization and also talks about grief and ecological devastation. Very beautifully written.
August 6, 2024
just a really beautiful collection of work!
August 20, 2025
Essays that make you think about the Earth, indigenous people, and climate change.
February 22, 2023
i'm going to read this book again and again
October 13, 2025
learned some stuff about guam for the first time which was cool but the author’s writing style really did not do it for me. honestly do not understand the hype. the prose is oftentimes corny and feels incomplete. it aims for revolutionary and ends up stating the obvious. people may be better off just reading some of the authors mentioned in the book instead
July 30, 2024
Wowww wow. So so so beautiful. I will be recommending to everyone I know. This is such a perfect little book. I was tearing up constantly while reading this.
This is the perfect book to gift someone. I need to add it to my permanent collection instantly. I also found so many other authors I want to read through this book.
This is the perfect book to gift someone. I need to add it to my permanent collection instantly. I also found so many other authors I want to read through this book.
October 26, 2022
“Where do we go from here? What do we do with our desolation? How obscene is it that communities with the smallest carbon footprint—like low-lying islands and atolls in the middle of the Pacific Ocean—are paying the steepest price for a crisis we had almost no hand in creating? How do warm-blooded longings for equity and justice figure into global discourse dominated by the cold language of mitigation and adaptation? How do we stay sane as well as sentient? As the luminous author-activist Naomi Klein puts it, how do we stay human in a warming world?”
I cried several times in this collection of essays, poems, and speeches the author has made through the years, and I am uplifted and heartbroken at the same time, why is there no word in the English language for this feeling? Bittersweet may be close but it is not ferocious enough and its origin was food so we need another. Solacesorrow? Solaceagony? Forlornjoy? Optimisticdespondence? (yes I thesaurused both to make these up)
We are still colonizing Guam, to start with the agony. WE ARE STILL COLONIZING GUAM. How can we de-colonize anything if we are still doing it? Why do the people of Guam have no voice or rights? I knew this, peripherally, but these essays help to make it more real, from mind to mouth, from mind to fingers typing. Obscene is the right word for global warming AND for the lack of self rule in Guam. I commit to educating myself more on this subject and hope others are inspired also.
IN 2022 THE US IS STILL COLONIZING GUAM.
THE NATIONS WITH THE LEAST AMOUNT OF POLLUTION ARE SUFFERING THE MOST.
LIVE WITH THAT FOR A WHILE.
See why we need another word? I feel sadness, and rage, there is no sweetness to those twin horrors. And my deepest sadness is that we can’t even agree in an educated country with knowledge of the entire world and other worlds at our fingertips, we can’t even agree on the fact of global warming. And I know it turns so many away, I want to turn away, and find joy where I can, but we owe something, we can offer something towards either twin obscenities, and maybe we can sway the tide a little. I want to beg, which the author does not, as a powerful force in legal and scholarly circles, but I also feel we all should be begging. It is time to beg, steal, and borrow, right? For the rescue of the world.
Read this! Read this book. Please read this book. I recommend this book highly. Open your mind and heart and read this book.
No offering is too small. No stone unneeded. All of us—whether we choose to become human rights lawyers or corporate counsel, or choose never to practice law at all but instead become professors or entrepreneurs or disappear anonymous among the poor or stay at home and raise bright, delicious children—all of us, without exception, are qualified to participate in the rescue of the world.
I tell the graduates that the only way to successfully make the journey (from adolescence to adulthood) is to learn how to “get quiet”—that is, to quiet down the noise of other people’s opinions and to take instruction instead from one’s own heart.
I have often suspected that it is harder for people to rush to the rescue of a world whose magic they have not encountered for themselves, have not seen, felt, touched, turned over in their own hands. I for one can say without pause that so large a part of my own devotion to the cause of justice is that I have hiked up my pants and stood in other peoples’ rivers. Moved to their music.
It goes without saying that the nuclear testing program visited unspeakable violence on the Marshallese. The rate of miscarriages in the wake of these tests, for instance, is without parallel. One woman, a dear friend who has long since passed, suffered seven miscarriages in her lifetime. And this is to say nothing of the birth abnormalities that forced Marshallese women to have to devise an entirely new language to describe the things they’ve seen and the babies they’ve birthed—for example, jellyfish babies, or babies born without bones and translucent skin.
Not once since 1898—America’s imperial meridian—has this country been able to come up with a satisfactory legal justification for maintaining its constellation of overseas colonial possessions—territories deemed not to be a part of the United States, but rather to belong to the United States. The constructive violence done to the text of the Constitution in the name of colonial enterprise is surpassed only by the real violence inflicted upon the psyches of folks who must find our way in a country that neither wants us nor wants to let us go.
I cried several times in this collection of essays, poems, and speeches the author has made through the years, and I am uplifted and heartbroken at the same time, why is there no word in the English language for this feeling? Bittersweet may be close but it is not ferocious enough and its origin was food so we need another. Solacesorrow? Solaceagony? Forlornjoy? Optimisticdespondence? (yes I thesaurused both to make these up)
We are still colonizing Guam, to start with the agony. WE ARE STILL COLONIZING GUAM. How can we de-colonize anything if we are still doing it? Why do the people of Guam have no voice or rights? I knew this, peripherally, but these essays help to make it more real, from mind to mouth, from mind to fingers typing. Obscene is the right word for global warming AND for the lack of self rule in Guam. I commit to educating myself more on this subject and hope others are inspired also.
IN 2022 THE US IS STILL COLONIZING GUAM.
THE NATIONS WITH THE LEAST AMOUNT OF POLLUTION ARE SUFFERING THE MOST.
LIVE WITH THAT FOR A WHILE.
See why we need another word? I feel sadness, and rage, there is no sweetness to those twin horrors. And my deepest sadness is that we can’t even agree in an educated country with knowledge of the entire world and other worlds at our fingertips, we can’t even agree on the fact of global warming. And I know it turns so many away, I want to turn away, and find joy where I can, but we owe something, we can offer something towards either twin obscenities, and maybe we can sway the tide a little. I want to beg, which the author does not, as a powerful force in legal and scholarly circles, but I also feel we all should be begging. It is time to beg, steal, and borrow, right? For the rescue of the world.
Read this! Read this book. Please read this book. I recommend this book highly. Open your mind and heart and read this book.
No offering is too small. No stone unneeded. All of us—whether we choose to become human rights lawyers or corporate counsel, or choose never to practice law at all but instead become professors or entrepreneurs or disappear anonymous among the poor or stay at home and raise bright, delicious children—all of us, without exception, are qualified to participate in the rescue of the world.
I tell the graduates that the only way to successfully make the journey (from adolescence to adulthood) is to learn how to “get quiet”—that is, to quiet down the noise of other people’s opinions and to take instruction instead from one’s own heart.
I have often suspected that it is harder for people to rush to the rescue of a world whose magic they have not encountered for themselves, have not seen, felt, touched, turned over in their own hands. I for one can say without pause that so large a part of my own devotion to the cause of justice is that I have hiked up my pants and stood in other peoples’ rivers. Moved to their music.
It goes without saying that the nuclear testing program visited unspeakable violence on the Marshallese. The rate of miscarriages in the wake of these tests, for instance, is without parallel. One woman, a dear friend who has long since passed, suffered seven miscarriages in her lifetime. And this is to say nothing of the birth abnormalities that forced Marshallese women to have to devise an entirely new language to describe the things they’ve seen and the babies they’ve birthed—for example, jellyfish babies, or babies born without bones and translucent skin.
Not once since 1898—America’s imperial meridian—has this country been able to come up with a satisfactory legal justification for maintaining its constellation of overseas colonial possessions—territories deemed not to be a part of the United States, but rather to belong to the United States. The constructive violence done to the text of the Constitution in the name of colonial enterprise is surpassed only by the real violence inflicted upon the psyches of folks who must find our way in a country that neither wants us nor wants to let us go.
May 30, 2024
This will stick with me for a very long time
June 23, 2024
‘birthday cakes mean birthdays’ and ‘fighting words’ were stand out stories for me.
November 26, 2023
And the only reason it’s 4 stars is bc i wish it was longer
September 6, 2024
I do believe I’ve come across a truly life-changing book.
My dad is from Guahan, the island now known today as Guam. He taught me to love our island and our people. Living in the diaspora made possible by the American military industrial complex, I have always felt some sort of rootedness to our land.
Julian Aguon articulates things that have been within me, even if I have never seen the wreckage that colonial violence and exploitation have done to Guahan. He talks about the generational hurt that families suffer from. The sadness of the Chamorro people. The mindset of “no” and limitation that we accept. And the trans global solidarities that we have with the other Indigenous peoples around the world who are most strongly affected by climate change and colonialism, yet have done the least. Not to mention the dire predicament Guahan is placed under, being the so-called “tip of the spear” for the American empire, and the political invisibility that Chamorros are restricted to as noncitizens.
I wish to carry forward the voices he elevates in this book, and to join in the causes that our people need, even if I am a far ways away from our land. Thank you, Julian, and the publishers, and the great community of writers who made these articulations possible.
As Aguon says, impatience and action are necessary in the face of injustice. We will not restrict ourselves to fighting the fights that we can win. We will fight the fights that need fighting. Because we mean to live.
My dad is from Guahan, the island now known today as Guam. He taught me to love our island and our people. Living in the diaspora made possible by the American military industrial complex, I have always felt some sort of rootedness to our land.
Julian Aguon articulates things that have been within me, even if I have never seen the wreckage that colonial violence and exploitation have done to Guahan. He talks about the generational hurt that families suffer from. The sadness of the Chamorro people. The mindset of “no” and limitation that we accept. And the trans global solidarities that we have with the other Indigenous peoples around the world who are most strongly affected by climate change and colonialism, yet have done the least. Not to mention the dire predicament Guahan is placed under, being the so-called “tip of the spear” for the American empire, and the political invisibility that Chamorros are restricted to as noncitizens.
I wish to carry forward the voices he elevates in this book, and to join in the causes that our people need, even if I am a far ways away from our land. Thank you, Julian, and the publishers, and the great community of writers who made these articulations possible.
As Aguon says, impatience and action are necessary in the face of injustice. We will not restrict ourselves to fighting the fights that we can win. We will fight the fights that need fighting. Because we mean to live.
October 30, 2023
I didn't want this collection of essays to end! Julian Aguon weaves in Pacific motifs with modern literature and personal accounts to share on topics relating to human rights, humanity, justice and fairness. A friend lent me the book, written by a lawyer and human rights defender from Guam. I want to buy my own copy, re-read it immediately and buy it as gifts for friends!
It pulsates your social conscious and reels you into the world where you want to rally for voiceless and powerless. Aguon has a mastery with stringing words together that adds depth to the experiences of being a human being dealing with growing up, grief, and fighting the good fight.
"This book [is] like a love letter to young people. It seeks to call them forth. To do language and to do battle. To write as if everything they love is on the line. Because it is".
It pulsates your social conscious and reels you into the world where you want to rally for voiceless and powerless. Aguon has a mastery with stringing words together that adds depth to the experiences of being a human being dealing with growing up, grief, and fighting the good fight.
"This book [is] like a love letter to young people. It seeks to call them forth. To do language and to do battle. To write as if everything they love is on the line. Because it is".
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