The American, French, and Haitian Revolutions affected the lives of thousands in the Atlantic world who felt the urge—or were forced—to fight and lead battles; travel, flee, or move to—or invade—distant lands; establish new towns; and make decisions that radically influenced their lives and the lives of others around them. In the last 15 years, historians have offered important and exciting studies on the journeys of seemingly unimportant people—of different socioracial composition—who, although neglected in traditional historiographies, played a crucial role in the development of revolutionary politics of the Atlantic world. Vanessa Mongey's fascinating book joins those works that analyze the Age of Revolutions from the margins; she draws a rich and complex picture of neglected men (ship captains, teachers, printers, enslaved soldiers, and military veterans) who, although forgotten by national (often-triumphalist) historical narratives, played a significant part in planting the political seeds of a new era.In her brief but sharp introduction, Mongey clarifies that by recovering the interconnected lives, ideas, and ambitions of these often-ignored individuals, Rogue Revolutionaries seeks to analyze the spaces of experimentation and innovation that emerged in the nineteenth-century greater Caribbean, a multicultural, multilingual, and transimperial region that became “a fertile ground for the cross-pollination of goods, ideas, and peoples” (p. 4). As Mongey shows, studying this transimperial space and its itinerant inhabitants requires pushing against boundaries imposed by nationalistic approaches, which naturalize the progressive transition from empires to nations. She invites us, instead, to create new frameworks that showcase the original ways in which people on the ground reflected on their political decisions and actions and also sought to defend their political projects against established (yet still fragile) states that stigmatized them as “piratical, anarchical, and conducive to racial conflicts” (p. 4). Mongey not only reconstructs a complex history but offers a methodological path to think about revolutions from a transnational perspective, one that situates historical actors within their local, regional, and global contexts and tries to render visible the ways that they dealt with those convoluted and overlapping realities.The book is structured on historical events and individuals as much as on specific themes. Throughout five rich chapters organized chronologically, Mongey tells the stories of a dozen nineteenth-century men who claimed revolution as their right while envisioning innovative political projects and strategies based on novel notions of sovereignty, legitimacy, equality, and liberty. In the first chapter, for example, Mongey traces the lives of Sévère Courtois and Louis-Michel Aury, two Frenchmen (the first born in Saint-Domingue, the second in France) whose lives interconnected in the Caribbean around 1815–16. Mongey shows how Courtois's and Aury's experiences in Cartagena and Haiti affected how these men understood sovereignty and statehood as dynamic processes that, rather than depending merely on other states' recognition, were shaped by alternative forces such as privateering activities, trade connections, and strong military leadership. Mongey describes Aury's intense military and political activities in the greater Caribbean and his several attempts to establish independent states, first in Galveston, then in Amelia Island, and finally in the island of Providencia, where he reunited with Courtois and together imagined and executed a project to liberate Providencia. For Providencia to be recognized by the international community, Aury and Courtois designed all kinds of political, commercial, and social strategies, from privateering commissions to constitutions and social plans; but as Mongey argues, the road to sovereignty was not an easy one in a world that was in the making, and these small “ghostly and ephemeral governments” that Mongey studies throughout her book struggled to survive (p. 36).The second chapter tells the stories of Juan Bautista Mariano Picornell and Manuel Cortés Campomanes, two instigators of the San Blas conspiracy in Madrid who were sent to the port of La Guaira, where they initiated an exciting career as writers and translators of revolutionary texts that circulated throughout the greater Caribbean. Mongey analyzes the power and limitations of the printed word in societies that lived at its margins—for example, via the use of portable presses in political expeditions. Although Mongey recognizes that “this world of print coexisted with a world of whispers,” as rumors and oral information also played a huge part in the spread of information, this chapter is still too centered on the printed materials and their authors and is less effective in showing how oral networks operated in the Caribbean societies or how the printed word entered the oral circuits of nonliterate communities (pp. 38–39). In fact, throughout her book Mongey offers a careful and fascinating examination of these neglected revolutionaries, their alternative projects, and how they managed to keep them alive, but the book is less generous in analyzing specific local context—that is, the multicultural and multiracial Caribbean communities of men and women who accompanied, supported, or even opposed these adventurers in their process of becoming rulers, military leaders, writers, and, even more complicated, enslavers.This is an excellent history that brings stories of failed attempts and lost causes that, as Mongey successfully argues, were also part of the revolutionary experiment. Understanding these “deviations from the norm” allows us to better comprehend the formation of Western-centric norms of state formation and the kinds of narratives that were used to legitimize diplomatic relations, international policymaking, and military interventions (p. 7).