from unincorporated territory [saina]

by Craig Santos Pérez

Using a replica of the native Chamorros' outrigger boats as his figurative vessel, these poems explore the personal, historical, cultural, and natural elements of the poet's native Guam. Combining and contrasting the fragmentary myths of the author’s island ancestors, intimate childhood stories of growing up on Guam, and the history of his family’s immigration to the United States—with primary histories and texts of the colonial domination and abuse brought on by Spain, Japan, and the United States—these poems give voice to the anguish of the oppressed as well as their hopes for the future. Referring to both the island nation of Guam and the uncharted expanses of one’s own soul, the “unincorporated territory” title reflects the author's attempts to express concepts that go beyond the current reaches of any language.

Genres: Poetry, Indigenous, History

135 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2010

Reviews

[Patricia Murphy · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I know I am not between two languages."

[Taylor Franson-Thiel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Working my way through the series!!! Love how each book informs the others.

[Brontë Massucco · Rating 3 out of 5]

really jumbled narrative but crystal clear tone

[L.J. · Rating 5 out of 5]

from unincorporated territory [saina]
by Craig Santos Perez (133 pages/ Ominidawn Press, 2010)

Anchored in the wrenching history of the native Chamorro people, [saina] is a book about the plastic, ever-shifting nature of recorded history and identity. Perez composes this story by incorporating what has previously been unincorporated: the amalgamated, bypassed, excluded, adapted, redacted voices that make up the personal and political memory of the island of Guam. Saina is the word in Chamorro for parents, elders, spirits, ancestors, and [saina] the book, begins as a divided, fragmented text built out of four languages (English, Spanish, Japanese and Chamorro)which quote the voices of family members, military decrees, tourist brochures, records of official transfer, creation stories, government exercises of eminent domain, and reports on the contemporary physical and emotional state of the Chamorro people and their lands. Perez takes these seemingly disconnected, disembodied voices and gives them a conjoined body, a paper skin they must inhabit together:

"territory ceded to united states in accordance with treaty of
peace between the united states and spain signed paris 12/10/1898
proclaimed 4/11/1899 known as island of guam in marianas
islands shall continue to be known as guam
during typhoon season she would tell us the story of i guihan dangkolo:
'once
in days of
our before time
ancestors
in days when chaifi...
virgin mary
not yet come...
"i don't remember who told me that story ilek-ña
maybe my mom your great grandma
"so many typhoons
pakyo pakyo pakyo every year she sighs
'guam is hereby declared to be an unin corp orated territory of the united states'
from typhon 'whirlwind' 'father of the winds'
from tufan 'big cyclonic storm'"

Perez has a power of vision in this book that is breathtaking to experience. If a native culture has been unincorporated, if Catholicism has grafted itself into its creation histories, if various powers have made of it alternately a disputed occupied territory, a military base, a fetish tourism destination, and most of its native population was forced to leave long ago, if all that is left are pieces of pieces-- what can hold together what has no corpus, no body?

"speech
where no last detail
is legible--
with so many
customs to recover
the whole house
assumes a posture
of prayer until
water
becomes what holds it"

An answer takes place within the poetry itself: the breath, the rhythms shift, and a kind of transubstantiation occurs. The voices on the page are no longer colliding, running in parallel streams, speaking over one another, but form a continuous, inhabited, resonant energy, a song-like beam that illuminates the power of story as a regenerative power:

"...somewhere beginnings persist that were never simply given never simply taken
maybe this is more than lost cargo maybe this
is only where light comes to breathe from afar no exact location
disclosed because no breath ends
return
is it true that you can live with thirst
and still die from drowing only to have words
become as material as our needs
i want to ask you it it still possible to hear our paper skin opening [we]
carry our stories overseas to the place called 'voice'
and call
to know our allowance of water"

It is impossible to read [saina] and not feel moved by Perez's capacity to take pain and truths that should be embittering, even crippling, and fashion light out of them. As Perez puts it, "we belong to more than a map of remote scars."

[Joe]

Triangulate this in my library between Mark Nowak (incorporation of large chunks of source text, the rigid syntax of the book's repeating sections, the overt intention to educate), Myung Mi Kim (the scope of project, the fragmentation--though less so here--movements of people to the US in response to US military action and the according ambivalent stance toward such a home), and Amiri Baraka (Wise Why Y's)...

Can this be called de-colonial poetics? The term is still fuzzy to me. Suggestions on sources to clear up this definition?

I am not surprised to read that the US has poisoned an island, its people, and the surrounding fields of sea. But I am heartbroken by the particulars, forced to see the edges of this country in sharper relief, to consider again that the end of an imperial/colonizing america is imperative. Maybe we'll dissolve into smaller, less awful units?

'enduring myth of
worlds covered
by hotels' 'disease free dogs enhance all

inclusive

resorts' 'a weaver

creates a remote / village at / the end of every

dust'


'guahan is


Enjoyed this, enjoyed the play between raw data, the urgency of the speaker, and the incoherencies and gaps where the reader is left to speculate. I did look for some sections to unfold over a longer space, to hold more, create a richer field to navigate. Maybe in later books or maybe just read all the books as a block when its all dead and we're in poetry valhalla.

[Christian · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is my cousin. We were raised together, spent weeks sleeping at each other’s houses, got confused that the title cousin means something different for white people, and mirrored lives like a parallel universe where one thing diverged out paths. This book went on to describe grim reality in the only ways it knew: facts and fractures while I describe it in struggle and stumbles. Read it now or the path will diverge too far and only becomes more grim.

[Aden · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another great collection from Perez, but I liked this one the least. Some beautiful writing can be found here if one looks past some of the awkward structuring of the serial pieces. It was challenging to keep hold of the narrative strands. A tough collection as a whole but some really amazing singular moments.

[Ashley Bostrom · Rating 4 out of 5]

The organization of the collection ebbed and flowed like water. It’s hard to list favorite poems since Perez reuses/continues titles, but I especially loved the “from sourcings” and “from aerial roots” sections.

[Carol · Rating 5 out of 5]

Powerful intertwining of personal history and the history of a people and a nation. Able to be read quickly, but best when savored.

[sebstansquared · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 stars: made me think of my own relationship to culture and mother tongue a lot.

[Emmaline Parker · Rating 2 out of 5]

Don’t read this unless you are really into global literature and unconventional poetry.
This book was required reading for a Global Lit course. I would not have read this book of my own accord.

It incorporated a number of separate poems by splicing them together. This approach influenced the narrative of each poem—for better or worse? I’m not certain. A lot of it was in multiple languages, so it was difficult to understand. (Was this an intentional choice of the author? I think so.) I am also unfamiliar with non-conforming poetry forms (or lack of forms), so I was challenged to truly appreciate this compilation of works. Regardless, it provided neat concepts and critical thinking development, but it was not the most profound collection of poems I’ve read. The All With Ocean Views section was my personal favorite (commentary on exotifying/tourism and the issues with it), and I could analyze and annotate that much easier than some of the other sections.

[hh · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5

[Andy Stallings · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not especially wild about this as poetry, but it sure is an interesting project.