What does it mean to be a New Zealander? This is the question at the heart of Arohanui: My Aotearoa New Zealand, which gathers the voices of over 100 contributors offering their perspectives, both affectionate and critical.

The line-up ranges from high-profile figures such as rugby player Beauden Barrett, comedian Michelle A’Court, actor Sam Neill, artist Dick Frizzell, chef Peter Gordon and broadcaster Miriama Kamo. It also includes others whose names may be less familiar, representing a broad spectrum of backgrounds and experiences.

Spearheaded by Kevin Chapman, director of Upstart Press, and edited by Rosemary Hepozden, the project is described as a love letter to Aotearoa. Chapman says, ‘It’s the sort of letter that lays out not only what makes us love someone, but also suggests where we think they aren’t quite right and what they could do better.’

Readers drawn to a broad, visual collection of voices from across Aotearoa may find this a thought-provoking starting point. It could prompt reflection on what this place means, whether you were born here or arrived later. For those unfamiliar with New Zealand, the range of contributors offers an introduction to its many viewpoints. Politicians, activists, environmentalists, academics, religious leaders, entrepreneurs, writers, and many others are represented – reflecting a diverse cross-section of the country’s cultural, social and professional life.

The heart of the book lies in the variety of perspectives and the way they intersect and respond to one another – as public speaker Jake Bailey reflects, ‘Overseas, every place – even your home and personal space – is still foreign… New Zealand is the opposite. Even isolation feels homely.’ Novelist Tanya Moir shares a similar sentiment as she offers, ‘Somehow, being dwarfed by an empty landscape makes me feel bigger.’

Other contributors speak to New Zealand’s multicultural identity. Activist and former MP Elizabeth Kerekere says, ‘There are multiple “we” in Aotearoa – rarely a collective, but a cacophony of diverse identities and voices that sometimes make pure music.’ Miriama Kamo hopes we might ‘fearlessly face our past and hold hands walking into the future.’ Business owner Koos Turenhout reflects, ‘Some of the happiest years of our lives have been here. Certainly, coming from turbulent South Africa, they have been the most stable and peaceful.’

There’s also a sense of wanting to reach for something bigger. Entrepreneur Stephen McDowell says, ‘It’s time our culture supported how amazing we are, rather than trying to “humble” us,’ while social entrepreneur Sam Johnson thinks we should, ‘be more aggressive and commercial about making this the best country in the world.’

I found myself wishing for a little more framing to guide the reader through these many voices – perhaps an introduction describing how the conversations unfolded and the way contributors responded to the questions. It might have been interesting to know whether themes emerged naturally or if some topics proved harder to draw out.

The pairing of each quote with a portrait gives the work intimacy, though it may also have encouraged safe, less in-depth answers. Some contributions draw on familiar images of beaches, sport and rural life, underlining how ambitious it is to capture a nation’s character in just a few lines. As poet and historian Iain Sharp observes, ‘On the one hand, I can see how shared history and geography ought to result in a few traits in common. On the other, there’s a mismatch between the most commonly voiced stereotype and anyone I actually know.’

Even so, the breadth here means most readers will find something that resonates. The book captures a moment in time, offering a mosaic of affection, concern, pride and challenge.

Arohanui: My Aotearoa New Zealand is an accessible entry point to larger conversations about who we are as a nation, and where we might be heading – an invitation, perhaps, to continue the conversation long after reading.

Reviewed by Becs Tetley