By
Ernest Hogan
I
buy a lot of books at used book and thrift stores. Not only are they
cheap, but I often find lost treasures. I like rescuing books before they end up in the landfill to rot, or
hopefully be restored by the archeologists of the future with brave new
technology.
I also like finding Chicano and Latino lit. When I saw a yellowed copy of El Espejo/The Mirror: Selected Mexican-American Literature edited by Octavio I. Romano-V. I couldn’t help but grab it.
It’s
from Quinto Sol Publications, in Berkeley, California, first
published in 1969. The cover and title page of this copy of the
fourth printing say Selected
Mexican-American
Literature.
Later editions and internet call it Selected
Chicano Literature.
I remember those days. “Chicano” was still an insult, like the
N-word, and proper “Mexican-Americans” didn’t want to be
confused with those vatos who were rioting and writing on walls. Even
back then we were arguing amongst ourselves over who and what we are.
The
works are classic Chicano literature, poetry, nonfiction, poetry,
prose, Spanish, English--sometimes all at the same time, and often
similar to the experimental, new wave speculative fiction I was
reading at the time. The Chicano imagination is powerful.
“The
mirror is the rim of illusion.” as Miguel Ponce says in the “Notes
for an Anti-introduction.”
History
is
presented like time travel, cruising from preColumbian times, to the 1910
Mexican Revolution, to Sixties flashes of post-psychedelic utopias
that cross borders and break them down. From Rudy Espinosa’s
scenario
for a screen play
“Kiko’s
Tale:” “Ya know since traveling I’ve understood myself more
clearly and I want out! Out of the cities of Americana, and all those
tinsel time machines.”
“Minority”
(I don’t like the word, it makes it seem like we can be ignored)
writers and science fiction writers have a common problem: presenting
cultures that are often alien to your publisher and audience.
It’s
all about being and dealing with aliens.
Yeah,
the writers are all men. In those proto-feminist days, when it was
called Women’s Lib, most Chicanas had their creativity beaten out
of them or channeled into more “practical” pursuits. Women who
could become writers and artists back then were a special breed.
The
writers are mostly Californios from San Francisco, San Diego, San
Jose,Oakland, Berkeley, Olivehurst, and Lemon Grove, with exceptions
from Tucson, Arizona, and Guadalajara, Jalisco.
They
also seem to have broken into print through contact with academia. I
wonder if it was anything like my struggles with commercial
publishing.
Ocatvio
I Romano-V. founded Quinto Sol, and was no doubt the driving force
behind this and other books. Sometimes if you want something
published you have to do it yourself. Writers owe a lot to people
like him.
And
some of the other writers have gone on to other accomplishments.
Miguel Méndez-M. won the Premio Nacinal de Literatura Mexicana José
and is ASU’s School of Transborder Studies. Nick Vaca became an
author, attorney, and journalist. The poet Alurista won the American
Book Award. José Montoya was Sacramento’s Poet Laureate. Juan
Garcia’s imaginative works won him the Juan Rulfo Prize. And I’m
sure Silvio Villavicencio, Miguel Ponce, Estupian, and Rudy Espinosa
have done amazing things that can’t be found on a Google search. We
often don't get documented.
In
all, a welcome addition to your Chicano literature shelf.
Ernest Hogan creates Chicano literature without even trying.
2 comments:
Brava! wonderful reflection and analysis. I would like to email you and send you a copy of my Montoya monograph:https://www.amazon.com/José-Montoya-Ella-Maria-Diaz/dp/0895511703
I loved reading these lines. My father was Silvio Villavicencio. Recently, my son managed to find a copy of the book in this information swamp called the internet. My son finding that copy was like finding gold to me.
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