Friday, November 08, 2019

End of the Year New Books


Coming down to the wire, three more books make their bids for your attention in 2019.  An interesting trio ranging from advocacy for Native American children abused by the foster care system, to a pair of unique examples of crime fiction, one set in 1887 in the Wild West, and another in mysterious and surprising Havana.
        ____________________________



Katrina Carrasco
Picador - November 5 
(paperback - previously released in hardback by Farrar, Straus and Giroux)

[from the publisher]
It is 1887, and Alma Rosales is on the hunt for stolen opium. Trained in espionage by the Pinkerton Detective Agency—but dismissed for bad behavior and a penchant for going undercover as a man—Alma now works for Delphine Beaumond, the seductive mastermind of a West Coast smuggling ring.

When product goes missing at their Washington Territory outpost, Alma is tasked with tracking the thief and recovering the drugs. In disguise as the scrappy dockworker Jack Camp, this should be easy—once she muscles her way into the local organization, wins the trust of the magnetic local boss and his boys, discovers the turncoat, and keeps them all from uncovering her secrets. All this, while sending coded dispatches to the circling Pinkerton agents to keep them from closing in.

Alma’s enjoying her dangerous game of shifting identities and double crosses as she fights for a promotion and an invitation back into Delphine’s bed. But it’s getting harder and harder to keep her cover stories straight and to know whom to trust. One wrong move and she could be unmasked: as a woman, as a traitor, or as a spy.

A propulsive, sensual tour de force, The Best Bad Things introduces Katrina Carrasco, a bold new voice in crime fiction.


Katrina Carrasco holds an MFA in fiction from Portland State University, where she received the Tom and Phyllis Burnam Graduate Fiction Scholarship and the Tom Doulis Graduate Fiction Writing Award. Her work has appeared in Witness magazine, Post Road Magazine, Quaint Magazine, and other journals. The Best Bad Things is her first novel.



__________________________________


Byron L. Dorgan
Thomas Dunne Books - November 26

[from the publisher]
On a winter morning in 1990, U.S. Senator Byron Dorgan of North Dakota picked up the Bismarck Tribune. On the front page, a small Native American girl gazed into the distance, shedding a tear. The headline: "Foster home children beaten—and nobody's helping."

Dorgan, who had been working with American Indian tribes to secure resources, was upset. He flew to the Standing Rock Indian Reservation to meet with five-year-old Tamara who had suffered a horrible beating at a foster home. He visited with Tamara and her grandfather and they became friends. Then Tamara disappeared. And he would search for her for decades until they finally found each other again.

This book is her story, from childhood to the present, but it's also the story of a people and a nation. More than one in three American Indian/Alaskan Native children live in poverty. AI/AN children are disproportionately in foster care and awaiting adoption. Suicide among AI/AN youth ages 15 to 24 is 2.5 times the national rate. How has America allowed this to happen?

As distressing a situation as it is, this is also a story of hope and resilience. Dorgan, who founded the Center for Native American Youth (CNAY) at the Aspen Institute, has worked tirelessly to bring Native youth voices to the forefront of policy discussions, engage Native youth in leadership and advocacy, and secure and share resources for Native youth. You will fall in love with this heartbreaking story, but end the book knowing what can be done and what you can do.

___________________________________



Teresa Dovalpage
Soho Crime - November 12


[from the publisher]
Set between Cubas twenty years apart, Havana native Teresa Dovalpage’s new murder mystery explores lingering grudges between old friends and lovers separated by Castro’s final sanctioned raft exodus.

Juan, a Cuban construction worker who has settled in Albuquerque, returns to Havana for the first time since fleeing Cuba by raft twenty years ago. He is traveling with his American wife, Sharon, and hopes to reconnect with Victor, his best friend from college—and, unbeknownst to Sharon, he also hopes to discover what has become of two ex-girlfriends, Elsa and Rosita.

Juan is surprised to learn that Victor has become Victoria and runs a popular drag show at the local hot spot Café Arabia. Elsa has married a wealthy foreigner, and Rosita, still single, works at the Havana cemetery. When one of these women turns up dead, it will cost Padrino, a Santería priest and former detective on the Havana police force, more than he expects to untangle the group’s lies and hunt down the killer.

Teresa Dovalpage was born in Havana, Cuba. She earned her BA in English literature and an MA in Spanish literature at the University of Havana, and her PhD in Latin American literature at the University of New Mexico. She is the author of twelve other works of fiction and three plays, and is the winner of the Rincón de la Victoria Award and a finalist for the Herralde Award. She lives in New Mexico.

Later.

__________________________________


Manuel Ramos writes crime fiction. His latest is The Golden Havana Night (Arte Público Press.) 


Thursday, November 07, 2019

Chicanonautica: Further Thoughts on Judging Extra-Fiction

by Ernest Hogan

Once again I judged the finalists of Somos en escrito: The Online Latino Literary Magazine’s Extra-FictionContest. It is an honor to be have been chosen to do it for the first two years. Makes me feel like some kinda chingón.

I took the job seriously. And it wasn’t easy. The competition was tight, as it should be.

Also, my decisions may be controversial, as they should be. We are Chicano/Lantio/x. Our very existence in controversial.

I gave first place to El Parbulito by Gloria Delgado. A story that digs into our past, and is based on a true story. Some may argue that it is not “extra-fiction,” but dammit, it’s more fantastic, not to mention just plain weirder, than a lot of the deliberate science fiction and fantasy stories I’ve read last year. And a prime example of the wonder can be found in La Cultura.

Second place A Story of the Fourth Crusade by Rosa Martha Villarreal is about Hispanic, not Latino/x, culture. But the volatile mix of cultures and wars of the Iberian Peninsula, and the reach of the Spanish Armada are integral to Latinidad. A lot of the things we think of as puro Mexicano are actually from Spain. And Spain is non-Anglo, and the gateway to Africa, and the Middle East. The author also references Borges in an introductory note.

Hmm. Do 21st century vatos read Borges? “Me and Jorge Luis were cruising the Boulevard . . .”

When Corn People Wage War by Tania Romero, the third place story (actually the first chapter of a novel) time trips, bringing in Mayan myths (or should I say realities?) percolating into the present. Once of the great Latino Lit themes. It stands on its own, and promises to go on to some interesting places. I’d like to read the novel when it’s finished.

My Many Faces by Venetia Sjogren provides a snapshot of a Latinx identity crisis, and Nous Somme Dans Une Texte by David Vela presents a Latinx in Paris, a fish out of water, as are we all. The both deserve their honorable mentions.

Another finalist,Wayward Angel of the Desolate Streets by JR Sanchez, is gritty cyberpunk with plausible cannabis products that I expect to see on sale soon. Not bad, but cyberpunk is getting old. 1984 was a long time ago. There’s still a market and audience for it--my novels still sell.

And most of the winners were women. No names were on the copies of the stories that I read. No bias there.

I congratulate the winners, including Writer of Promise Gerard Martinez, and to all those who entered. I salute you. To be a writer you first have to write (amazing how many people don’t get that far), submit you work for publication, and after the inevitable rejections, keep doing until you do get published, and keep doing that . . . well, forever.

It ain’t easy, but there’s something satisfying about getting published, and after a few decades having a career that.

I know, it’s the story of my life.

Ernest Hogan’s novels, High Aztech, Smoking Mirror Blues, and Cortez on Jupiter had a spike in Kindle sales during Halloween/Día de los Muertos/Dead Daze weekend.

Wednesday, November 06, 2019

Octopus Stew


By Eric Velasquez 


*Age Range: 4 - 8 years
*Grade Level: Preschool - 3
*Hardcover: 40 pages
*Publisher: Holiday House
*Language: English
*ISBN-10: 082343754X
*ISBN-13: 978-0823437542


What do you do when an octopus captures Grandma? Put on your superhero cape and rescue her! Two stories in one from award-winning Afro-Latino artist Eric Velasquez.

The octopus Grandma is cooking has grown to titanic proportions. "¡Tenga cuidado!" Ramsey shouts. "Be careful!" But it's too late. The octopus traps Grandma!

Ramsey uses both art and intellect to free his beloved abuela.

Then the story takes a surprising twist. And it can be read two ways. Open the fold-out pages to find Ramsey telling a story to his family. Keep the pages folded, and Ramsey's octopus adventure is real.

This beautifully illustrated picture book, drawn from the author's childhood memories, celebrates creativity, heroism, family, grandmothers, grandsons, Puerto Rican food, Latinx culture and more.

With an author's note and the Velasquez family recipe for Octopus Stew!



Review

"Pura Belpré and Coretta Scott King-John Steptoe honor winner Velasquez will surprise primary grade readers with a story that is as fascinating and hilarious as it is absurd. The English text intertwines with Spanish phrases that provide a multicultural approach and validates the boy's family background. The vibrant paintings, done in oils, strike the eye with large and expressive characters. . . . A hilarious read-aloud that could be read during a storytime."—School Library Journal, Starred Review

"Realistic oil paintings bring to life the action and excitement of encountering a giant octopus. Important cultural notes are detailed in the story and pictures through emphasis on art, storytelling, musical instruments, and more. Spanish dialogue mixes fluidly into the primarily English text, with a glossary providing definitions and pronunciations of Spanish terms. Happily, Velasquez also includes a recipe for octopus stew."—Booklist

"A delightful modern tall tale sure to entertain and inspire readers to share (and embroider) their own stories." —Kirkus Reviews

"Oil paintings by Velasquez (Looking for Bongo) have a lush, generously sculptural feel—a heightened comic realism that's perfect for this domestic tall tale, its multi-armed nemesis, and the wonderful gatefold twist that occurs at the action's height." —Publishers Weekly


Eric Velasquez' awards include the John Steptoe / Coretta Scott King Award for new talent, a Pura Belpré Award, an NAACP Image Award, and a Carter G. Woodson Award.

For Holiday House, he both wrote and illustrated Looking for Bongo, and he illustrated Ol' Clip-Clop: A Ghost Story by Patricia C. McKissack (Anne Izard Storyteller's Choice Award Winner, Georgia Children's Book Award, Bank Street Best Children's Book of the Year--Outstanding Merit) and New Shoes by Susan Lynn Meyer (Jane Addams Peace Association Children's Book Award, Bank Street Best Children's Book of the Year, New York State Reading Association Charlotte Award).

The son of Afro-Puerto Rican parents who encouraged music and storytelling, Eric grew up in Spanish Harlem, New York. As a child, he loved superheroes, comics and drawing, much like the boy in Octopus Stew.


He teaches illustration at the Fashion Institute of Technology and lives in New York.


Tuesday, November 05, 2019

News 'n Notes



On November 22-24, the Art History Department, the Chicana/o Studies Department, the LGBTQ Studies Program, and the Herb Alpert School of Music (with a small contribution from the Center for Mexican Studies) present Juana: The Opera, performed by Opera UCLA, and based on an adaptation of Prof. Alicia Gaspar de Alba’s (Chicana/o, English and Gender Studies) historical novel on Mexico’s most famous nun, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.

On November 22-23, scheduled in tandem with the opera, Professor Alicia Gaspar de Alba (Chicana/o, English and Gender Studies) and Professor Charlene Villaseñor-Black (Art History and Chicana/o Studies) have organized a two-day symposium on Sor Juana’s life and work, which will provide much-needed historical and cultural context for the opera.  The title of the symposium is “You Imagine Me and I Exist” The Afterlives of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz.  

Find time and location details on the symposium and the opera here (link).



Latino Theater Company Brings Teatro Para La Gente To Them. And Free.


Los Angeles' most creatively programmed professional theatre, Spring Street's Latino Theater Co., is taking professionalism seriously, working for free and in local spaces. Here's how the Company explains the event. Spaces & Places await confirmation, check this link for updates.

The Latino Theater Company, in collaboration with UCLA School of Theater Film and TV and East Los Angeles College Theater Arts Department, is going to the heart of our community with an urgent and timely production of a cornerstone in the canon of Chicano Theater, La Victima. In 1978, members of the Latino Theater Company performed the play, and now, in 2019, when anti-immigrant rhetoric is at a fever-pitch, the play is more relevant than ever. A new generation of Latinx artists from UCLA and ELAC are performing La Victima in a production directed by Latino Theater Company Artistic Director, Jose Luis Valenzuela, that will tour Los Angeles to bring vital theater to the heart of our community. 

The production will be performed for no admission fee.  

Given the current national climate, the Latino Theater Company feels the responsibility to bring theater to the people--the community under attack, and fulfill their mission to create a place where the convergence of people, cultures, and ideas contribute to the future. 

Created in 1976 by the theater collective El Teatro De La Esperanza, La Victima could not be more relevant.

At this point in the history of the U.S., immigration is still a hot-button issue, with certain political factions calling for the repeal of the 14th Amendment, which guarantees citizenship rights to those born on U.S. soil. As the nation's Latinx community is attacked by ICE and scapegoated by the rhetoric of the president, it is crucial to oppose the historical and ongoing oppression of Latinx in the U.S.A. and set a precedent for the future. 




The LBJ Presidential Library event comes Sunday, November 10, 2019 at 2 p.m. The LBJ biblioteca is located at 2313 Red River St., Austin, Texas 78705

Voces invites Facebook (click here for link to Voces/Face) users to a live streaming on the celebration. The stream flows at 2.

Monday, November 04, 2019

Legendary L.A. Chicano Art Space, Self Help Graphics, Honored in First Major Museum Show in Austin


Now at the Blanton Museum of Art at The University of Texas in Austin is a new exhibition Arte Sin Fronteras which honors work from the legendary Self Help Graphics & Art studio of Los Angeles. This is the first time the pioneering and innovative arts center is honored in a major museum show. The exhibit opened on October 27 and runs through January 12, 2020.

Formed during the cultural renaissance of the ‘70s during the Chicano Civil Rights Movement, Self Help Graphics gave a vehicle and a voice to artists in the LA community, allowing access to art, socioeconomics aside. A spirit of rasquachismo, pride in making do with limited resources, permeates everything they do.

There is much see in this exhibition, including a selection of works documenting Self Help Graphic’s history as an organization and the artists’ complex construction of Chicanx and Latinx identities. Another section focuses on prints that challenge traditional gender roles and engage in an intersectional exploration into Chicanx and Latinx and queer identities. The show will also feature Mexican-American religious traditions and issues of migration and life at the United States/Mexico border.

The exhibit is curated by Florencia Bazzano, Assistant Curator, Latin American Art, Blanton Museum of Art, and Christian Wurst, Curatorial Assistant, Deputy Director for Curatorial Affairs, Blanton Museum of Art. They took time from their hectic schedules to chat with La Bloga about this wonderful, exciting exhibit.

Patssi Valdez: Calaveras de azúcar

DANIEL OLIVAS: Can you talk a little bit about the importance of Self Help Graphics and the Chicano art movement?

CHRISTIAN WURST: I think Self Help Graphics & Art was integral in the continuation of the Chicano art movement that began in the sixties. When the institution was founded in the early seventies, their goals were to connect the local Mexican American community in East L.A. to their cultural roots. With the prints they produced in the studio, Self Help took early examples of ephemeral Chicano and Mexican art like murals and posters and helped in the development of a Latinx art market.

FLORENCIA BAZZANO: Most of the works in the exhibition were produced in the 1980s and 1990s, which represent a different moment in Chicanx art, one where social and aesthetic objectives are equally important. In the work produced at Self Help Graphics during this period we find strong and individualized artistic voices, rich imaginaries grounded in politics and intersectional cultural identities, as well as printmaking of the highest technical quality. Artists focused on their rights to be considered part of the American art scene.

Yreina D. Cervántez: Ocelotl

DO: Was there anything that surprised you in curating this show?

CW: What really surprised me is the reoccurrence of certain symbols and motifs. For example, barbed wire in a print would stand in for the border or immigration. I also saw many artists also depict Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent in Mesoamerican mythology, in more contemporary settings.

FB: I was more familiar with Chicanx art of the 1960s and 1970s. I discovered that the work these artists produced in the following two decades was not less amazing and powerful. These prints have a commanding presence.

Alex Donis: Rio, Por No Llorar

DO: What do you hope visitors get from this exhibit?

CW: I hope our audience recognizes a lot of the imagery when they walk into the galleries but come away with a more in-depth understanding of their rich history.

FB: I hope our visitors get a better understanding of the Latinx community and recognize the amazing contribution that Latinx immigrants are making to the United States.

Dolores Guerrero-Cruz: Untitled

***

In other news, I wanted to share with you an essay I wrote for the Los Angeles Review of Books titled, “From Dystopia to Absurdity: On Being a Chicano Writer in the Age of Trump,” and which you may read here. In it, I discuss the writing of my first play, Waiting for Godínez, which was inspired both by Samuel Beckett’s iconic Godot play and the virulent anti-immigrant environment—though not new—that is at fevered pitch today in this country. I have queried various theaters and so far, five have agreed to read it. If you are an artistic director interested in reading my play, please feel free to drop me an email at: olivasdan at aol.com.

Friday, November 01, 2019

My Heart, Mis Muertas. Poems to Honor My Ancestors

Melinda Palacio




Next Saturday, I have the honor or reading matriarchal poems, honoring my grandmother and mother, at the C.D. Wright Women's Conference in Conway, Arkansas. I've never been to Arkansas or to this conference. I will have more to report on after next week. Since today is a Día de Los Muertos celebration, I'm happy to share three poems: the title poem of my first full-length poetry book and two short prose poems also in How Fire Is a Story, Waiting. It took me a long time to achieve the kind of peace I have regarding the early death of my mother and more recent death of my grandmother.


Matriarchs in Triptych and across Cultures (Creative Reading)
(Gina Ferrara, Julie Kane, and Melinda Palacio)
Location: Baum Gallery, McCastlain Hall
Anne Sexton famously wrote, "A woman is her mother. That's the main thing." Female poets have a long tradition of presenting mothers in their poetry. How does the frequent presence and recollection of mothers define who we are? Across cultures, specifically Hispanic, Irish, and Sicilian, what similarities do mothers share and what differences? Must daughters look back at their matriarchal predecessors before crossing any kind of threshold? This reading will respond to these questions in triptych, via three cultures.  


(title poem from the 2012 book published by Tia Chucha Press)


My grandmother caught the flame in her thick hands.
Curled fingers made nimble by kaleidoscope embers.
Fire burns hot and cold if you know where to touch it, she said.

I watched the red glow spit and wiggle as it
snaked down the thin timber, a striptease, 
born out of the festive sound of a half-filled matchbox.

Through orange windows framed by obsidian eyes, I saw the child she once was. 
A little girl who raised herself because her mother had a coughing disease.
Blood on her mother’s handkerchief didn’t stop her from dreaming.
Maria Victoria was going to be a singer with her deep, cinnamon stick voice. 

She watched novelas in the kitchen while waiting for dough to rise.
Her body, heavy with worry for two families and three lifetimes.  She tucked
Mariachi dreams under her girdle. Lullabies escaped on mornings 
warmed by her song falling into gas burners turned on high.

The flame on a stove was never the same.  It had a bad hangover,
didn’t remember the many matches lit when its starter broke down.

My grandmother rolled paper into a funnel, 
stole fire from the pilot to light the stubborn burner on the right.  
Crimson burned blue on the white paper, its folded edges 
curled black like a lace ruffle on a skirt.
The finicky flame can’t comment on its magic.
The thousands of tortillas and pancakes cooked over the years.
How I burned myself roasting a hot dog campfire style.
How a melted pencil smudged under my sister’s eyelid makes her beautiful.

My grandmother noticed the time, almost noon.
She needed to make three dozen tortillas to feed her family of thirteen.
The show over, she blew the match into a swirl of gray squiggles,
snuffed before it had a chance to burn hot on her finger.





Laughter


The story of my mother touches the wind and rattles me off balance, raises the small hairs on my forearms, my skin no longer feels my own. I long to be cradled by a cloud, suspended and sheltered. I listen to the words of the Grandmother Spirit. My elder says look beneath your skin and you’ll the see the loneliness in your veins. I hear drumming, a familiar wail of pain. The drums stop. The story of my mother is as ordinary as once upon a time there was a happy woman who lived a short life before dying, leaving behind a daughter. The pages between the beginning and the end are filled with laugher. A girl with wild hair the color of the Río Grande sinks her feet into the muddy river and says, you laugh like my grandmother. I laugh harder because the wild woman is my mother.






Choosing a Coffin

We arrive at the cemetery you can see from the freeway. Rolling, green hills, naked statues that make Ama laugh and blush. Walk into a white office. Meet the nice white lady with the white jacket. Sit in her white chairs, stare at the pictures on the white walls. We are here to choose a coffin. I am her mother. I am her daughter. I am her brother. I am her uncle. I am her friend. Our voices fill in blank spaces. I see a plain pine box. That one, I say, because it’s simple, like the coffin chosen for Cesar Chavez, a man my mother admired  tirelessly. No grapes, I remember. Don’t be cheap, Melinda, my uncle says. Don’t worry about the money, my mother’s friend says. My grandmother decides on the white coffin that looks like a Cadillac with pink roses on each corner, lined in pink satin for a luxurious sleep. I knew you’d pick that one, says the nice lady with perfect plastic Pompadour hair like Elvis. It’s our finest she says, taking in the shades of bewildered brown faces.




Funny, how fire is a story, waiting.