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 United States political d 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 received a drc from Astra Publishing House via Netgalley.

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.

Julian Aguon is a human rights lawyer and defender from Guam. “No Country for Eight-Spot Butterflies” is a collection of poems, essays and speeches which center around crucial topics such as colonisation, climate change and the rights of indigenous populations. In total, it forms into a manifesto for the respect of life on earth, no matter if human, animal or plant. He gives insight in his own process of growing up, of gaining insight and learning that even though we as humans should care for the same ideas and aims, the world often works with other mechanisms.

The author has formed a strong voice which immediately captures the reader. In the afterword, he states what he thinks is crucial at the moment, it is not being loud, but to listen. He does not use an accusatory tone, but a quite voice which makes you concentrate more on what is said, paying more attention and reading more closely.

Some of the essays provided new information to me, in others, it was mainly the perspective that was new and which I have ignored so far. It is beautifully written despite the seriousness of the topic and the increasing urgency for action.

An outstanding collection that definitely does leave an impact on the reader.

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!

I am still processing the book and my assumptions that I had before I sat down to read it. You know - we are used to tackling topics such as climate change or colonialism in two ways: we either use a lot of complicated words, lots of data, or.... we we over-simplify it to the point that it becomes a meme, a short post on social media that can be easily shared.

And there comes Aguon with his essays and poetry (!), which didn't take away even a bit of the importance of the topic, or I would even say - somehow made his arguments stronger. There is still so much we can (have to) learn from indigenous people, from how they talk about nature, land, water. Hard data, shocking predictions and constant news haven't done much to convince us that we need to act now. I somehow want to believe that maybe on top of "hard" science, what we need is to reconnect, to love, to feel. And somehow Aguon's essays and poems inspired me to take one step closer towards that goal. You know, of looking around and appreciating what you have, whilst also not forgetting to fight within the systems already in place.

I would love to read more of his essays. An important voice to everyone who wants to learn about climate change, about Guam, US imperialism. But perhaps most importantly - about the need of personal stories in how we talk about all of this.