Macondo Workshop

Gregg Barrios of San Antonio sent us a heads up about Sandra Cisneros's annual Macondo Workshop and an article in the San Antonio Express-News about the week-long event. Gregg is mentioned in the article - congratulations on the play and its selection for the Tennessee Williams Festival - and assures us that it is okay with the author of the article, Susan Yerkes, and the Express-News if we reproduce the article here on La Bloga. Gregg is a former Book Editor for the Express-News, so we are trusting his opinion and posting most of the article for La Bloga readers. The piece is loaded with news about literary stars such as raúlrsalinas and Helena María Viramontes, recipients of the first Gloria Anzaldúa Milagro Award; John Phillip Santos; Frances Treviño; and others.

You can find the original article here. And you can check out the Macondo website here.

'La Sandra's' writing workshop creates sense of family, service
Web Posted: 08/13/2006 10:37 PM CDT
Susan Yerkes, San Antonio Express-News

As the fifth annual Macondo writer's workshop winds down here today, Sandra Cisneros is seeing one of her dearest dreams come true. This year, led by "La Sandra," the Macondistas (workshop participants) honored two groundbreaking Mexican American writers, raulsalinas and Helen Maria Viramontes, with its first Gloria Anzaldúa Milagro Award.
Anzaldúa, born poor in East L.A., worked her way through college to become a leading voice in Chicana literature before diabetes led to her early death at 61.

raulsalinas, (and that's his own poetic version of his name), a poet and founder of La Resistencia bookstore in Austin, has been struggling with cancer for several years. Viramontes, Cisneros said last Sunday night, has been spending most of her time with a sister in hospice care who is close to death.

The Anzaldúa awards give writers involved in their communities, who often lack insurance and funds for health care, financial help to come to S.A. for a week of pampering — home-cooked dinners, massages and other creature comforts — during the weeklong, annual Macondo workshop. In Cisneros' words, the awards "recognize the role of community in taking care of our own and of the importance of taking time out to heal ourselves."

"Writing is like learning to cut your own hair," she told the old and new workshop members and their S.A. supporters at an opening night dinner. "There's only so much you can do alone. Somebody has to help you with the back. We're all here to help each other with the back."

Family values
Strong family ties are a crucial source of support in Mexican American and Latino communities, and Cisneros is creating not just a week of sharing, but a year-round support system, based in San Antonio, for writers from many cultures. Henry Cisneros (no relation to La Sandra, by the way) has often called S.A. the "city of the future" because of our multicultural community.
The Macondo workshops bring a river of multicultural literacy to San Antonio, and give other creative communities a model for supporting their own. Participants also get involved in service to the city while they're here. Last Wednesday, visiting writers worked with young folks in trouble at the Bexar County Youth Detention Center. And their schedule for this weekend included sharing their work with San Antonio at a Friday night reading at Esperanza Peace and Justice Center, and a Saturday night "Suavecito" show at Jump-Start Performance Company, which was to include a tribute to the late, beloved S.A. poet Trinidad Sanchez.

Writers among us
Father Virgilio Elizondo, Notre Dame scholar, former pastor of San Fernando Cathedral and author of "The Future is Mestizo," was on hand to help welcome new Macondo participants at the opening night dinner for the workshop, catered by El Mirador at the King William Gardens, next door to the popular St. Mary's Street café.

"1 Book 1 San Antonio" novelist John Phillip Santos was there, too, with poet and teacher Frances Treviño. Playwright (and former Express-News Book Editor) Gregg Barrios was also on hand, accepting congratulations on his new play about Tennessee Williams, "Rancho Pancho," which will be presented at the international Tennessee Williams Festival in New Orleans next spring.

And OLLU Prez Teresa Pollock got a big hand of thanks in absentia for opening the doors of the university dorms and meeting rooms to visiting Macondistas during the workshop.
"Tessa Pollock," Cisneros said, "is the only president I've ever met of anything who immediately said 'What can I do for you?' when I called." High praise indeed.

Susan Yerkes' column appears on Mondays, Wednesdays and Sundays. Call her at (210) 250-3542, or e-mail syerkes@express-news.net.=

Culture Clash has done it again. No they haven't. Yes they have.

Michael Sedano

The Mark Taper Forum's production of Richard Montoya's play, Water and Power, marks an important departure for Culture Clash. The performance–through September 17 at Los Angeles' most important stage-- is not a collective-writen satiric comedy revue, but a fully realized drama written by Richard Montoya. In fact, the Taper bills the production as "Water and Power by Richard Montoya for Culture Clash." And, although generously peppered with moments of satiric hilarity, Water and Power is a deadly serious tragedy. No, this is not your "usual" Culture Clash event. Still, Culture Clash has once again brought a powerfully entertaining experience to its Los Angeles audience.

Gibby and Gabby Garcia, AKA the twins, AKA thunder and lightning, AKA Water and Power, find themselves in a profoundly dangerous predicament. Power has shot a man and is holed up in at the Paradise Motel. Water has big time political connections that can get his brother off the hook. "Don't make the call," Power tells Water. Water makes the call. As he must, since this is a play about choices.

What's in a name? Everything. Water fits into any container, takes on whatever shape surrounds him, goes with the flow when not contained. This is Gilbert, an influential California State Senator. Gabriel is an LAPD Lieutenant--Power. But Power has long since blown his fuses, acknowledging he has become a monster because his career has been fighting monsters.

Richard Montoya wears the politician role like a glove. The actor's crystal clear voice lacks any distinctive ethnic or regional color. The Senator has a deal in the works to create a public green space from an important parcel of prime landnear the Los Angeles River. LA locals who follow news will recognize the geography from ongoing land use controversies.

Herbert Siguenza is a big guy and fills the LAPD uniform as Power convincingly. Unfortunately, Siguenza's Power character hits the stage with less urgency and presence than needed to keep the play rolling at full speed.

Culture Clash's third member, Ric Salinas, plays Norte/Sur, whose curious character creates an amalgam that ranges from guardian angel to moral guru, to the shoeshine stand informant in the old Baretta television series, or a Leslie Nielsen Police Squad farce.

An outstanding cast complements the Culture Clash core. Moises Arias is endearing playing the child Gibby and Gabby, and a scene stealer. Speaking of scene stealers, Dakin Mattews as The Fixer, makes his audience squirm with distaste. Winston J. Rocha, as Gibby and Gabby's father embodies sentimentality and controversial parenting. Emilio Rivera as El Musico/Vendor, fills out the cast.

Water and Power take their names from their father's job with the Department of Water and Power. There is no mother; this is the story of a father raising his two sons to be men. Dad's technique: fit the boys with boxing gloves and let them knock the daylights out of each other, then give each slightly divergent counsel. In one scene, Asuncion counsels Gilbert always to look out for his younger, dumber, brother. In the complementary scene, dad tells Gabriel that he isn’t necessarily the dumber one, sending the boy off with the advice to punch his brother in the face when he’s not looking.

When the Senator, Water, heads out to make the political conecta to save his brother the audience collapses in laughter at The Fixer. Dressed in an ice cream suit, his head topped with a shock of white hair, Dakin Mathews plays the Brentwood power broker with an ominous viciousness. To an LA audience, the man in white clearly could be identified as power broker Eli Broad, who is often photographed dressed in white. To avoid a libel charge, however, Mathews plays The Fixer with sleaze and accent that contrasts to the actual Brentwood power broker's public persona.

To this point, Gibby has more than held his own with the morally bereft brother, he is every ounce the powerful politician and older brother. In the white man's presence, however, Water sits totally subdued, and, although he expresses his political convictions, in the end he chooses the wrong path.

Montoya is not one to allow his audience easy comfort. The choices his characters make have turned the one into a monster, the other into a "Hispanic". The former falls as low as a cop can--a premeditated murderer, even though he has a noble cause. The latter may be a misperception, but not necessarily. When the Senator takes The Fixer's offer, the choices are to save his brother or betray the community. To hammer home the point, the man in white forces Gibby into a stomach-turning humiliation that leaves the audience stunned.

I heard one theatre goer say "Montoya has some great plays in him." He's totally correct on that, but the future tense isn't necessary. I exited the theatre in a stunned, subdued enthusiasm. Water and Power is already a great play. Not that it doesn't lag in the last third here and there, and Montoya's insistence on explaining Norte/Sur's character more than needed earlier. The play at first seems puro El Lay--thus not amenable to hitting the road--owing to Montoya's hilarious use of L.A. neighborhoods. The allusions are easily changed. Where Los Angeles has Maravilla, Hazard, White Fence, Ramona Gardens, Estrada Courts, Atwater Village (where real men come from), the "in-jokes" are readily transferred to Segundo Barrio, the Third Ward, or whatever local place name fits a theatre near you.

Here's to Richard Montoya's debut as a playwrite! Writing as part of the Culture Clash collective, Montoya's work has taken on the lustre of the collective. Now, emerging from his own shadow, Montoya's and the group's career should take some interesting arcs to ever higher accolades from an ever broader audience. Don't wait for Water and Power to come to your neighborhood. LA's a great place to visit and, until September 17, you can buy a ticket to Water and Power. There is so much to enjoy and talk about in this performance, that once you've enjoyed it you'll want your friends to see the play, too. When they do, you'll have hours of conversations about a hugely rich theatrical experience.

That's the third week of August, 2006. Tempus fugit, gente, carpe a book and read! See you next week.

mvs

CALL FOR PAPERS

THE KEEPING BROWN LITERATURE BOOMING PROJECT: A UNIQUE WAY TO GIVE BACK

Monday's post from Daniel Olivas...

The editors of Latino Boom: An Anthology of U.S. Latino Literature (Longman, 2005) and LatinoStories.com are accepting previously published scholarly essays, books, book reviews, and interviews that focus on U.S. Latino literature, to which contributors hold rights. The purpose of the project is to revive and keep alive scholarly and analytical works that were published in the past but may not be so easily accessible (e.g., the work is out of print or it may have been originally published for a limited audience). The editors will publish these works in LatinoStories.com and thus make these resources available to an international audience that includes faculty, students, and individuals from disadvantaged educational or financial backgrounds who cannot so easily access other sources. The ultimate goal is to promote and provide a free credible web source for the study of Latino Literature. An example of the type of work is John S. Christie's Latino Fiction and the Modernist Imagination, which was originally published by Garland Press but is now fully available on LatinoStories.com.

Guidelines: Only electronic files. Please make note of the original publication date and the name of the periodical in which the work previously appeared and/or the name of the publisher. Most journals hold only first-time publication rights, but be sure to confirm that you now hold the rights to the work. Upon publication of the work in LatinoStories.com, contributors will continue to hold the copyright. No payment but we can guarantee that this will be a rewarding and a unique way to give back and to keep previously published work from fading into unfortunate oblivion.

Submit to:
José B. González, Ph.D.
John S. Christie, Ph.D.
editors@latinostories.com
Or visit here

IGNORING BROWN FOLK: Ilan Stavans offers sharp observations in a recent San Francisco Chronicle essay entitled “What's civil rights history without Latinos?” This is the opening paragraph:

The other day, while browsing through the excellent two-volume set on the civil rights movement "Reporting Civil Rights," published by the Library of America, I was flabbergasted by a glaring absence. In that almost 1,000-page-long fiesta of journalism about a crucial period in the country's past, the presence of Latinos is nil. Not a single mention is made of César Chávez and the farmworkers. The index includes nothing about Chicanos.

It’s a pretty disturbing analysis by Stavans. Stavans, a prolific and provocative writer, is the Lewis-Sebring Professor in Latin American and Latino Culture at Amherst College. His latest book, The Disappearance: A Novella and Stories, is coming out this month from Triquarterly.

TACO TESTIMONY: My review of Denise Chávez’s new memoir, A Taco Testimony (Rio Nuevo) appeared in yesterday’s El Paso Times. I note, in part:

Chávez is an engaging writer who has a well-honed talent for describing in intimate detail everything from human foibles to mouthwatering Mexican delicacies. She also confronts life in all its beautiful and painful permutations. This is a testimony well-worth reading.

All done. Sorry about the brevity of my post but I’ve just gotten back from vacation and I’m under the weather as well. Such is life. So, until next Monday, enjoy the intervening posts from my compadres y comadre at La Bloga. ¡Lea un libro!

Noticias

Manuel Ramos

NEW LATINO FICTION?
These books are blurbed here without me having read them yet. I got the titles from the August Booknews newsletter of the Poisoned Pen. They are recently released and on the shelves now. Am I taking too much liberty with the term "Latino fiction" in referring to these books? Why don't you read one and send us your opinion? You can submit reviews, articles, etc., to me at labloga at aol dot com. Any of the other La Bloga hosts also will consider material. No promises, but we do love contributors, commentators, even critics.

Wanted, by T.I. Alvarado (Alyson): A debut novel featuring bounty hunter Ladybird Blacker. Her latest capture turns out to be the son of a poweruful crime boss who hires an assassin to take out Bird and rescue his son. Lo and behold, the hired gun turns out to be Bird's ex-girlfriend. As they say, then things get interesting.

Tomorrow They Will Kiss, by Eduardo Santiago (Back Bay): Book Sense Pick says "Santiago has created a kaleidoscope of female characters in a novel that is as irresistible and addictive as a telenovela. His Cuban women in exile will wrap you up in their stories, as they illuminate the immigrant experience in a tapestry of memory, dreams, friendship, nostalgia, and humor."

The Art of Murder, by José Carlos Somoza (Abacus): "Madrid novelist Somoza's latest thriller to appear in the U.S. (it was originally published in Spain in 2001) concerns a young girl who is found murdered and two police detectives who must find the killer before he strikes again. But it's the world of the novel that captures our interest, not the whodunit aspect. The action takes place in the bizarre subculture of hyperdramatic art, in which the works of art are actual, living people, painted and posed like living mannequins." Booklist, © American Library Association.

SUMMER ISSUE OF LIBROS, LIBROS
Raymundo Elí Rojas sent us the Summer Issue of Libros, Libros, 54 pages. Ray's compilation of all that is new in Chicano/a and Latino/a literature is the absolute ultimate source. I expect that in the next few weeks we here at La Bloga will use it to help us select what we will be reading for the next several months. If you have any interest in this kind of stuff - and you must, you're reading La Bloga, right? - you have to get your hands on this publication. I think one of my fellow blogueros is going to host Libros on his website - until that becomes official, here is contact information for Ray:
BLOG - www.plumafront.blogspot.com
Pluma Fronteriza
P.O. Box 6216
Kansas City, KS 66106
plumafronteriza AT msn DOT com

NEW BOOK ABOUT THE LEGENDARY SIERRA MADRE
In the Sierra Madre by Jeff Biggers (University of Illinois Press, 2006) comes highly recommended: "Jeff Biggers has the keenest eye in the business, and he has a fine, luminous voice to tell you what he has seen. Biggers manages to write like a poet, a historian, a naturalist and an adventurer. His pages are burnished and alive, and I admire his work. This is a welcome addition to western and Mexican letters. You need to read this one soon."-- Luis Urrea

The publicity for this book says: "The Sierra Madre--no other mountain range in the world possesses such a ring of intrigue. In the Sierra Madre is a groundbreaking and extraordinary memoir that chronicles the astonishing history of one of the most famous, yet unknown, regions in the world. Based on his one-year sojourn among the Raramuri/Tarahumara, award-winning journalist Jeff Biggers offers a rare look into the ways of the most resilient indigenous culture in the Americas, the exploits of Mexican mountaineers, and the fascinating parade of argonauts and accidental travelers that has journeyed into the Sierra Madre over centuries. From African explorers, Bohemian friars, Confederate and Irish war deserters, French poets, Boer and Russian commandos, Apache and Mennonite communities, bewildered archaeologists, addled writers, and legendary characters including Antonin Artaud, B. Traven, Sergei Eisenstein, George Patton, Geronimo, and Pancho Villa, Biggers uncovers the remarkable treasures of the Sierra Madre."

RudyG - this sounds like something right up your callejón, how about a review?

STEVON LUCERO IN FIVE BY FAJARDO
There's a nice story (PDF) about Denver artist Stevon Lucero in the online journal Five, written by Renne Fajardo. Lucero's work is vibrant, dynamic, and loaded with cultural references, you know - Chicano art. Here are a couple of paragraphs from Fajardo's article to give you a taste of the artist and the story:

"Admittedly, Lucero seems eccentric. But his profound sense of spirituality has enabled him to create a prolific body of work that goes beyond addressing only Chicano issues. It speaks to all races and cultures.

It was at the University of Wyoming that he started painting what he calls Metaphysical Fantastic Realism. His work later evolved into Metarealism, where the conscious and subconscious merge together. 'In essence, what we think is manifested physically,' Lucero says of his style, which combines bold colors and lively organic forms."

Lucero's website has several images of his art to give you a great idea of what it is that he does.

LATINITAS MAGAZINE
The mission of Latinitas Magazine is to "empower Latina youth through media and technology." Hey, we can get behind that, no? I recently found the following message in the overflowing La Bloga mailbox:

"Do you know a young Latina who is active in community service and is making a difference? Latinitas is currently accepting nominations for Latinita Superstars. On a quarterly basis, Latinitas recognizes outstanding young Latinas by featuring girls on our website along with their photo. Candidates must be Hispanic girls between the ages of 11-18. To nominate a girl, please submit an online nomination at: http://www.latinitasmagazine.org/girls/superstar.php

Latinitas is a non-profit organization dedicated to empowering Latina youth through media. We publish a bilingual webzine by, for, and about Hispanic girls as well as host media empowerment programs through Central Texas. Latinitas presents enrichment after-school clubs, mentor programs, college internships, Saturday camps, youth media conferences, and community workshops dedicated to encouraging girls to express themselves. For more information, visit www.latinitasmagazine.org."

CASA HOGAR SANTA JULIA DON BOSCO
Alma Luz Villanueva forwarded us a plea for help for the Casa Hogar Santa Julia don Bosco - the "Little Girls Orphanage in San Miguel de Allende". The message says in part that "school begins August 21. In the meantime, the Madres are catching up on paperwork, doing deep cleaning, and taking care of maintenance that is difficult to take care of with girls there. For instance, there is no running water to the girls’ bathroom or shower room at present. In addition, the Madres are getting ready to send the girls to school, which means they need funds for school uniforms, shoes, workbooks, book covers, school supplies, school registration fees, etc. ... Donations may be dropped off at the box at Border Crossings, Mesones 57 at the corner of Relox, Box 121A, or mailed to the US box at 9902 Crystal Court, Suite 107 BC 2323 121A, Laredo, Texas 78045." Much more information about the orphanages and the ongoing projects and needs on the website.

Later.

Around San Anto 2006

(A continuation of http://labloga.blogspot.com/2006/08/denver-to-san-anto-2006.html)

The dog Manchas and I make it to San Anto, but we're going nowhere in afternoon rush hour, so we pull off downtown. It's $5 to park by the Mercado Market Square, a tourist trap in front of Santa Rosa Hospital, but it's worth it just for the shade and sounds from the fountain where a bunch of brown kids are cooling off. After a thousand heated miles, I'm wasted and Manchas doesn't even want to chase pigeons, or maybe it's 'cause his instincts are to herd the four-legged--cows and horses.

I sit on an old park bench, remembering decades ago when one of the nuns from the hospital fired me, for insubordination, I recall. I'm also sitting on the site of the cemetery where, after storming the Alamo, Santa Ana had his slain soldiers buried (fewer than 500, which means the Alamo Texians, as they're now called, killed only 2.5 to 1, not the seemingly 50 to 1 dramatized in those movies). Over a hundred years later, the good citizens of San Anto had those bodies removed and redistributed to other sites, denying us a memorial. Anglo civilization can't seem to leave us alone, even after death.

The Daughters of the Republic of Texas site claims the Alamo was "founded by" Franciscan priests. They fail to mention the labor came from local and imported Indian slaves, some of whom were maybe my ancestors--selective Texas history trying to erase even the indigenes' mark on the land.

The whole family thing is good, as always, although brother Ralph never shows, but that's Ralph. They know I love cabrito, which is difficult to get in Denver, so we have it at least four times. Turns out not all the cabrito is baby goat; some is cabra, chivo, old and tougher. Something to ask about next time you're at H.E.B. or a San Anto restaurant; it's the difference between juicy-tender and dry-tough.

My family lives off Hwy. 281 So., out in the sticks south of town. Hundreds of swallows, an occasional coyote howling, bats, lots of trees--mesquite, pecan, some palmas. I brought the truck to take back some mesquite planks, for making furniture. Here I see huge piles of dead oak along the roadside, victims of the current, extended drought. After some research, it seems I'll also return with no mesquite.

In Texas and into Mexico, the mesquite tree grows like a weed, and ranchers and farmers treat it as such. The best and biggest mesquites grow in the Uvalde area, but that's too far to drive. Good thing, because mesquite has shot up to over $7 a board foot, something outside my budget. The mostly Anglo furniture makers in San Angelo and Uvalde don't understand the increase.

But some mexicanos here explain there's no more mesquite in Mexico; it's all been cut down for firewood, to burn coals for homes or for the tacos everyone loves to buy from street vendors. There's too many people of all colors, there, here, in Denver; so many people, even the weeds are disappearing. Maybe this heat's the planet's way of showing it's tired of them, as Abbey too might have said.

We do most of the usual things that go with my Texas visits:
º Frequent stops for aguas de sandía, blended watermelon with water and sugar, some of it so thick I could have used a fork. $1.50 for a big ole glass, much better than the $1.50 small glass you get in Denver made of powdered product, like a Kool-Aid.
º Beer, every day, goes well with this heat--Negra Modelo, Grolsch, St. Pauli, whatever. I got an East German brother-in-law who's never lost his accent. It gets better with beer as we sit out on the porch or under the tent letting Manchas mangle their new dog.

One change: I usually make a point to stop by the Alamo and piss on the Alamo Cenotaph, the memorial to the Texans that sits out front of the Alamo. (It's not typical hunter or gatherer behavior, but it's something I do.) This time I've got a better idea, but it's not fit for posting.

Six movies were made about the Alamo, the first one in 1911. I remember when I was a kid proudly putting on a Davey Crockett coonskin cap and play-killing all those mescans, just like John Wayne in the second movie. It took decades, and some peeing, to get myself out of that thinking.

My mom, the dog and I go looking for a river where he can get himself all wet, but the banks are low, the drought's been here too long. At spots in the Guadalupe and San Antonio rivers he only manages to get his feet wet. But there's herons, egrets, pelicans, cardinals everywhere--migration's in cycle. A fantastic refuge is being completed nearby at Mitchell Lake (named Laguna de los Patos when this was still Mexico), but it's not open yet, won't allow pets, and no swimming, so it doesn't matter to Manchas. It's hot, even the river water.

There's also a billion, billions of tiny brown butterflies everywhere in south Texas, mixed in with small, fewer monarchs--something about great breeding conditions; I guess global warming isn't bad for everyone. People complain about the American snouts, as they're called, that cover their windshields. They forget who was here first, and will probably be here last, and they can't see that their windshields moving at 60mph into droves of these migrating insects are to blame.

Each morning we sit outside watching the billions awaken in the trees and on the ground from the heating, morning Texas sun. I amble through them like Gulliver walking through flying Lilliputians. They're Life(!) I want to grab and embrace, but even my approaching steps mean death for ones I don't see. It's an uncomfortable helplessness for a wannabe hunter-type. (Since my camera didn't turn out useable video, go here for an idea of what a billion snouts look like: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14172350/

The dog is having a great time. He gets lots of needed socialization, meeting strangers, licking them a lot, has learned a few new commands that he sometimes doesn't ignore. My sister Barb's Basset hound's ears make for a great chew. Her dog's female, he's male, but they lack the equipment anymore to do anything but pretend--sort of like homo sapiens' once-heated obsession with Earth.

Plus the dog's let me sleep all night, a new experience for us both. Coming in out of the sweltering heat to doze in front of an AC vent will do that, even to the best of primitive gatherers--spoils him; when it's time, he may not want to leave.

The day comes--the hunter's got job obligations. Last two days the dog's been questioning me with his eyes: "Are we going home now?" So he's ready. We load the truck with white limestone, other rock, and agave cactus for my desert-garden, but no mesquite. Except for my liver and the butterflies, we've caused less harm than good. Time to go while we're ahead.

I didn't have a chance to do all I wanted, but there'll be another time. San Anto will be here, maybe even the snouts, again. We catch US-10, take it up to 65, splattering dozens of the billions with each mile.

(final installment, next week...)

© Rudy Ch. Garcia 2006

Review: Bent to the Earth

I recently came across an old review I did on one of the most astounding books of poetry I've ever had the privilege to read. Every now and then, I pick it up to re-read and each time, I get blown away again. Check it out. Buy it. The poetry is amazing.

Title: Bent to the Earth
Author: Blas Manuel De Luna
Publisher: Carnegie Mellon University Press

I just finished reading the most astounding collection of poetry from a Tijuana born poet and writer, Blas Manuel De Luna. It is incredible!

The title poem Bent to the Earth speaks of the violence against migrant farm workers, the beating, the fear, the loss. Separation of husband from wife, mother from son, neighbors and friends gone. It brought tears to my eyes as did my favorite from the collection, My Father, Reading Neruda. The beauty of this final stanza moved me so deeply that I found myself crying in the early morning rush to get ready for work.

“But now, Neruda. Now, poetry. Now, poems.
I go near him. He is near
the end of the book; his finger marks
his place in a poem, in the poetry
that we have in common,
and that carries us both.”

The slim volume is packed with heart wrenching and sadly, true accounts of the life of the immigrant farmworker. Blas Manuel De Luna writes poignantly and beautifully of despair and loss, death and violence.

In his poem Into America, one can feel the anxious waiting for the darkness that will possibly give a few brave souls access into a new life on the other side or maybe just waiting another day with their desire to cross.

Mr. De Luna is one of the most eloquent and insightful poets it’s ever been my pleasure to encounter. His writing is crisp and conveys a depth of feeling so profound and haunting that it stays long after the book is closed. Read this portion of his elegiac poem to his little brother, The Sky Above Your Grave.

“If you could see through satin and wood and earth
and bits of grass,
if you could see through the trees in winter
when their leaves are gone.
if, little brother, there were a way for the dead to see,
you would see all the ways the sky has to be beautiful."

I feel that this is such an important little book for so many reasons. It is a slim volume and packed with such powerful messages. It is a lesson in humanity. It is the voice of protest. It is a call for action.

--Gina
(This review first appeared on AmoxCalli)

Review: Malinche. A novel. By Laura Esquivel.

Michael Sedano

Laura Esquivel and translator Ernesto Mestre-Reed hold their own against a worthy challenge, bringing to life on the pages of a short novel a character at the heart of Mexico’s foundation myth, Malinche.

When Hernan Cortes invades Amerindia, he needs a translator who speaks the Mexica tongue used in the Aztec empire. An India slave named Malinalli comes into Cortes’ possession. A gifted linguist, Malinalli speaks Nahuatl and rapidly learns Español. Adopting Catholicism, she is baptized Marina and comes to be known as Doña Marina, la Malinche, la chingada, the traitor. But her character is not cut and dried. After all, in bearing Cortes’ child, the woman gives birth to the first Mexicano.

Can a child hate its mother? More to Esquivel’s point, can Mexicans hate la Malinche, their mother? Malinche hates her mother. With the child’s father dying suddenly, her mother gives her away to the grandmother to raise. The confused child grows into adulthood, increasingly tormented counting the numerous times she has been discarded, given to a new master.

But Marina leaves her son behind as she accompanies Cortes on his expeditions of conquest. When, after years, she finally returns, her estrangement from her son turns into a nightmare of just rewards for abandonment. The son runs in fear, the mother screams at the son and drags the kicking and screaming boy from arms of the cuidaniño he calls “Mother.”

Much as Esquivel gives to make Malinche both human and sympathetic, she wastes little spite giving Cortes his due. He is a short, distempered beast whose charisma both draws and repels her. Ultimately, she gives in to her long controlled emotions and sees Cortes only with contempt.

How must the older adult Malinalli Marina have felt about her career? As the invader’s tongue, she looks Montezuma in the eye and gives her version of Cortes’ raison d’etre. She can spin it to get herself killed by outraged nobles, or she can convince the king the invader is the god Quetzalcoatl. Straddle the cultural divide and live, Malinalli tells herself in campaign after campaign. She has no other way than to live as a slave, Marina comforts herself.

Was it worth it? At the end of her career, Malinche has been given away yet again, this time to be wife slave to one of Cortes’ lieutenants. It turns into a good marriage, they are an ideal couple. They have children, deluxe housing, land, power. She has her grandmother’s jewelry, corn seed, and religion.

Writing an historical novel brings its own set of unique grammatical challenges. Sadly, Esquivel, or the translator, has given Malinche’s characters an awkward speech that interferes with the advancing of story. For instance, in the crucial confrontation between Malinalli and her mother, even the narrative takes on the floridity of the speeches:

Her dry lips pronounced words whose sound could move stones, and the most hardened hearts. “My daughter, Malinalli, by the great expanse of the seas, by the power of the stars, by the rain that washes and renews all, forgive me. I was guided by desire, blinded by life, attracted to what breathed. I could no longer be married to death. Your father had died, was inert, no word came out of his mouth nor light from his eyes. I could not stay bound to his immobility. I was still a young woman and wanted to live. 150

Despite the floricanto Esquivel’s characters speak, scenes like this one with Malinche’s mother resonate with understanding for the choices some women face in their drive up their own career ladder. Provocative ideas like these make the novel’s 186 pages pass too quickly.

Which is as it should be. And that's Tuesday, August 8, 2006. A day, like any other day, except... quick! Where does that line come from?

see you next week.

mvs