3 comments about Butterfly Boy: Memories of a Chicano Mariposa (Writing in Latinidad).

1. Gonzalez, Rigoberto. "Butterfly Boy" Memories of a Chicano Mariposa", University of Wisconsin Press, 2006.
   
   Angry, Passionate. And Ironic
   
   Amos Lassen
   
   I have finally gotten around to reading Rigoberto Gonzalez's "Butterfly Boy". It is one of the most moving books I have ever read. We follow a young Chicano as he matures into accepting himself as a gay male and Gonzalez writes about in eloquent beautiful language and with candor. It is enough for one to be gay; homosexuality automatically comes with minority status but to be gay and poor and Chicano is another story altogether. This is not an easy subject to write about but to write about in such exquisite prose makes this book very special. Subtitled "Memories of a Chicano Mariposa", we learn that "mariposa" not only means butterfly but also "faggot". Like other gay coming of age stories, Gonzalez describes the trials of being an effeminate kid with a high voice who enjoys putting on girl's clothing. We also read about how he found homosexual themes in classic literature and his feelings of validation when he read E.M.Forster and Herman Melville. With that rapture also comes sadness when he discovers that he is different from others and the emotions of tears and smiles and anger and acceptance face each other off all through the memoirs. Gonzalez tells this story is prose that is poetic and the story is intense and heartfelt. Gonzalez compromises nothing and he tells it like it is. It is very difficult to write about the sexual orientation of a young person because it is so personal that it is hard to convey. Gonzalez manages to do so with beautiful tenderness.
   Gonzales not only faced the issue of being gay--he also had to face near-poverty, illiteracy, and abuse. Above these there was love; he loved himself and who he was. The Chicano culture puts great emphasis on machismo and this made self-acceptance that more difficult. Feeling alone in the world, the only sense of connection that Gonzalez had came from a violent relationship with an older man. His mother died when he was twelve and his father had abandoned the family. When Gonzalez found his voice as a writer and also attempted to reconcile with his father, he was finally able to accept himself, claim his identity and bring together the issues of sexuality, race and class. This is a must read and should be on everyone's list. I don't understand why it took me so long to read it.



2. Years ago Rigoberto Gonzalez did a reading at the University of California, Riverside, his alma mater and the approximate locale where he met the "older lover" who abused him. Someone in the audience asked him why he felt he could write a memoir so young? Rigoberto, then in his early thirties, answered, "Because I write about another time that is no longer my life."
   
   BUTTERFLY BOY: MEMORIES OF A CHICANO MARIPOSA speaks to us about cruelties we do not want to confront: physical and sexual abuse among gay men, child sexual abuse, continuing cycles of abuse, poverty among immigrant farmworkers, family abuse linked to socioeconomic conditions, and inequality in secondary and higher education. These are some of the issues most of us have lived, our "dirty little secrets," but very little of us admit to. I praise Rigoberto Gonzalez for his courage to bring this out to light.
   
   Without a doubt, BUTTERFLY BOY is an example of taking risks with one's writing. Each scene is more heart-breaking than the last, and addictive. Addictive not in the sadistic sense, but because Gonzalez weaves a narrative that pulls you in, and its unsentimentality and your empathy that won't let you go. His prose is poetic and never dramatic. A read you won't be able to put down.
   
   This book will become a classic in Chicano/a and ethnic literature. Worth the buy at any price.
   
   Nothing can be more true than when Gonzalez said that he writes about a life no longer lived. He is an accomplished, award-winning writer and a leading figure in Chicano letters, movers and shakers. He is currently a professor in creative wrting at Queens College in New York. It's hard to believe he went through all the events he writes about, plus more I can't imagine, and still become as successful as he is now. Considering his up-bringing and where he's arrived, I hope this book falls into the hands of those who face similar adversities and have shrinking hope.



3. What makes a writer?
   
   This seemingly simple question can elicit many complex answers and even more questions. Case in point: Rigoberto González's poetic and heartbreaking memoir, "Butterfly Boy: Memories of a Chicano Mariposa" (The University of Wisconsin Press, $24.95 hardcover).
   
   González is an award-winning author of poetry, fiction and children's books. He is also a book critic contributing regularly to the El Paso Times.
   
   How did González, the son of migrant farmworkers whose first language was Spanish, become González the writer? Answers begin to emerge from his painful assertion of himself as a gay man in a culture steeped in machismo.
   
   González tells of his journey into adulthood and a life of literature in a nonlinear fashion, moving back and forth from childhood to adulthood, Mexico to the United States, self-loathing to self-revelatory empowerment.
   
   The book begins in Riverside, Calif., in 1990. González, as a college student at the Riverside campus of the University of California, has fallen in love with an older man who, as symbolized by painful yet beautiful "butterfly" marks he places upon González, brings both tenderness and brutality to the relationship. The unnamed lover cheats on González and doesn't hesitate to beat him up to establish his superiority over his young man. At times, González believes he deserves such brutality.
   
   Other times, he is grateful to have escaped the oppressiveness of his family and its legacy of dropping out of high school to work in the fields. The escape comes in the form of literature. A sometimes-callous, sometimes-tender teacher named Dolly lends the young González a poetry book and works with him to subjugate his accent. And the fire is lit: "I became a closet reader at first, taking my book with me to the back of the landlord's house or into my parents' room, where I would mouth the syllables softly, creating my own muted music."
   
   González then suffers the death of his mother when he is only 12. Compounding this loss, he is shipped off to live with his tyrannical grandfather. His own father -- who abuses alcohol and carouses with women --eventually starts another family, further alienating González. Again, books prove to be González's salvation, eventually leading to his surreptitious and successful application to college.
   
   González remains closeted in both his sexuality and intellect, realizing that neither facet of his identity would be understood or appreciated by his family.
   
   In the midst of scenes from his college life in Riverside and his adolescent exploration of sex and literature, González recounts a long and agonizing bus trip with his father. He leaves Riverside and travels to Indio, where his father lives, so they can begin their journey "into México, into the state of Michoacán, into the town of Zacapu, where my father was born, where my mother was raised, and where I grew up." This passage home takes on a special aura because González will turn 20 while there. Throughout the trip, González longs for his lover while seething with an almost uncontrollable anger toward his father. Throughout, he wonders if this trip was a mistake or a necessary part of becoming an adult.
   
   What makes a writer? Obviously, talent is a necessary ingredient. And in the case of González, add to the mix hard work and a burning desire to be heard. Ultimately, it is a mysterious alchemy.
   
   In any case, "Butterfly Boy" is a potent and poetic coming-of-age story about one man's acceptance of himself. There's no mystery in that.
   
   [This review first appeared in the El Paso Times.]

5 comments about Farmworker's Daughter: Growing Up Mexican in America.

1. The story of Rosela begins in Mexico, in a dry land where people need much and many times do not have enough. She and her mother take the journey up, to unknown lands with so much uncertainty...but with an incredible desire to see their lives amount to something other than a shunned, divorced mother and her fatherless daughter. Mexico will remain Rosela's identity throughout her memoir, sometimes she loves this fact, others ( like when she was a teen in the 60's she wishes it were not so) she wishes she could be, and especially look more like her blond American friends. She lives in time when immigrants lives were even more uncertain than they are today, a time when the Vietnam war was full force, and the excitable 60's and 70's were rolling through. I enjoyed reading about how this impacted her as a foreigner, and what the feelings were towards her during this time.
   
   Rosela does not set the goals that would be acceptable for her to reach (as an immigrant in a small town), but she longs for dreams that will satisfy her, and fulfill her purpose. She grew up an outsider, but not only an outsider when she was in California, but also when she went on trips back to Mexico. Life is not easy, and mistakes are made, but Rosela's story is one of hope, dreams and much courage. I was honored to read Rose Castillo Gibault's memoir, the lessons she learned are not only for her situation, but I found them completely relatable. Because I could easily relate to this feeling of not fitting in very well, or depending on other's mercy to feel "at home", Farmworker's Daughter was that book that just feels right. Not pretentious, preachy or condemning, but just the right blend of truth, reality, and life.
   
   The writing of Farmworker's Daughter was really great, I enjoyed reading from the perspective of the little girl, then adolescent, then college age woman. It had really good follow through and lead me on right to the end of the book very smoothly. I loved reading this book, check it out!
   
   
   
   Here are some quotes ( I love quotes so I always have to include them!!):
   
   "As a teenager I once asked my mother why she had left since she always talked about the greatness of Mexico. Maybe she had given up too much to come here, I suggested. She thoughtfully considered what I knew to be an impudent comment, and I immediately felt guilty. She shook her head sadly and looked into space, as if her gaze could travel back in time and pinpoint the precise moment she had made that momentous decision. [...] "There was nothing to loose. There was nothing for you and me.""(p. 23).
   
   " Once I stepped outside my door, I was all alone and had to fend for myself. The only thing I feared more than school was disappointing my mother, so I hid my anxieties" (p. 48).
   
   "One of the most memorable episodes during my years in Mrs. Rojas class was the day our class picture was taken and Mrs. Rojas announced that the prettiest and most photogenic person in class was Ramona--a shy Mexican girl. The blondes were shocked, Ramona blossomed with new self-confidence and the rest of us were struck by the notion that a Mexican could be considered beautiful" (p. 86).
   
   "It was great to be popular in Mexico by acting out being an American, because in the United States I certainly didn't feel like one" (p. 112).
   
   " Those Americans found Mexicans in Mexico charming, but those same Mexicans, it seemed, quickly lost their "charm" once in the United States. My cousins were proud, and being snubbed left them with little desire to explore beyond the small-town prejudices. They did not return" (p. 114).



2. Rose Castillo Guilbault's memoir is a great addition to the narrow field of autobiographies by Mexican American women! Well written and honest, this memoir will help readers, teens and adults, experience what it was like to grow up as a working class Mexican American girl in Arizona and California in the 1950's and 60's. In spite of our cultural differences, after reading this book I feel a kinship to this author. I believe that Rose and I could have been friends if we had gone to school together. I look forward to her next memoir because I sense there is much more of her life story that needs to be told.



3. We haven't read the book yet, but our eleven-year-old, grand daughter did. She liked it so much, that she patterned her school report about her grandmother on it.



4. Teens will be moved and inspired by Rose Castillo Guilbault's memoir, "Farmworker's Daughter: Growing Up Mexican in America" (Heyday Books, $11.95 paperback). The chapters in this richly detailed book arose from a series of essays first published in the San Francisco Chronicle.
   Guilbault is best known as an award-winning broadcast and print journalist who now is vice president of corporate affairs at the Automobile Association of America of Northern California. Her memoir recounts the intellectual, cultural and emotional trek from her youth in the border town of Nogales, Mexico, to growing up in California's Salinas Valley. Guilbault fights bigotry, economic hardship and sexism. She eventually finds success in the world of words -- although the phrase "I can't" has no place in her vocabulary. [This review first appeared in the El Paso Times.]



5. These biographical vignettes surely represent the experiences of many immigrants to the US. But they also describe the problems faced by most families as they struggle with the challenges of personal differences, adolescence, bad luck, and poor decisions. As a result it failed to inspire either my sympathy for the characters or a sense of need for immigration and/or social reform. Sadly, it is boring. The style is not professional; it is not even "good writing". I expected a story of hope and inspiration or a call to activism but was disappointed. I regret my reaction. Perhaps it would have been different had the story been told by a seasoned author.

2 comments about Bootstraps: From an American Academic of Color.

1. Of course, anyone who has actually read the book will know that Villanueva is from a Puerto Rican family, not a Mexican one.

   Not that it matters. This is an important book for anyone in English studies, not just rhetoric & composition. Read it now.




2. This is a true story of the prejudice that Mexicans and people of color face in school and and in life. Luckily, he found a teacher who understood him, and gave him hope. Today, Victor Villanueva is a leader of his field, but still many people who would accept him if he was white, will not accept him because of his Mexican heritage.

1 comments about 100 Hispanic-Americans Who Shaped American History.

1. 100 Hispanic-Americans Who Shaped American History by Rick Laezman is a remarkable collection of informative biographical capsule portraits introducing one hundred Hispanic men and women whose lives profoundly affected America. From the governor of Spanish Louisiana who secretly aided the Americans during the Revolutionary War, to the entrepreneur who made the Coca-Cola company a sensational success, 100 Hispanic-Americans Who Shaped American History is an amazing and eclectic collection of fascinating figures, each of whom is given a one-page biographical summary enhanced a black-and-white photograph or artistic portrait.

5 comments about Next Year in Cuba: A Cubano's Coming-of-age in America.

1. Gustavo Perez-Firmat's memoir is a heartfelt read.
   For anyone who has straddled the hyphenated word Cuban-American and thought themselves as a CBA (Cuban-born Americans) or ABC(American-bred Cubans), this book is a secret treaure.
   Perez-Firmat takes the reader on a cultural literary journey as he tries to come to terms with exactly what and where home is. Is it the place you were born (Cuba), the place you were exiled to, (Miami) or the city that you find yourself most at peace with (Chapel Hill, North Carolina) Perez-Firmat offers a tender philosophical introspective read on all the above.
   The book took me to the corner merchants and restaurants of la saguesera to the academia of Chapel Hill, where Perez-Firmat later settled in as he pursued a master's in literature. Or as he puts it, "Living with an American spouse, dealing with American stepchildren, and speaking English at home, I am much more aware of my nationality that I ever was before." (p.171)
   His memories of his family dynamics (two grandmothers sharing a two-bedroom with him, his brother and their parents) will be relatable to anyone with a large Hispanic family or to fans of PBS 70s show "Que Pasa USA?"
   But his take on his "romance with teaching" really resonated with me.
   I enjoyed reading the often humorous tales of this professor in the classrom as he teaches college students about Spanish literature. In one scene, Perez-Firmat goes on to describe his philosophy for teaching, which can serve as a lesson to many aspiring teachers.
   "I'm a successful teacher to the extent that I can get my students to fall for me...In a deep sense, I am the material...Like other love affairs, teaching has its own pace and moods, its good and bad days, its coded language, its rewarding or bitter conclusion. Sometimes you walk into a class and it's love at first sight."



2. As a young person who was born in the United States but whose parents were born in Cuba, identity has never been black and white for me--although it has always been blue, red, and white. This book crystallized so many emotions that I had felt my entire life but had never really examined. If you are 22 and have never been to Cuba, but still call yourself Cuban or if you are 60 and think if your childhood on that island paradise everyday--this book will make you laugh, it might make you cry, and it will certainly make you think. For over forty years now Cubans have been hoping for that "next year" to come to fruition, but we are still waiting. This book will make you long for "next year" like never before. Read it--you will never forget you did.



3. That is the question that has echoed throughout the Cuban exile community for over 40 years. As the older generation fades, the new generation continues to ask, to wonder, if the next year will finally be the year when Cuba will be free and Castro will be, and there's no other way to say it, dead.

   Perez Firmat and I stand a generation apart, yet reading this book, there really was no difference. The Cuban-American experience has much to do with yearning, an emotion that this book succeeded in evoking. We yearn for the Cuba we hear our relatives talk about. We yearn for the freedom of this never-seen homeland, to see the end of the tyranny. And we also yearn for this America, for the apple pie and Coca-Cola life we see and hear all around us, yet can never fully belong to.

   Being Cuban-American is not only complex, it is two extremes thrown together. Finding our identity as we straddle two nations is a challenge even now, 40 years later, and even to people like me, first-generation Cuban-Americans. You are forced to ask over and over again, What am I? I am not Cuban, I was born here in the U.S. But I am not American, my "Cuban-ness" is such a strong, obvious part of me it cannot be denied.

   Next Year in Cuba does a great job of giving an eloquent, humorous voice to this complexity. It's a great read on the Cuban-American culture, sure to give a better insight and appreciation to those wanting to know more.




4. That we Cubans and Cuban-Americans can find humor in any situation--even the most tragic and overwhelming--is a testament to our strength. This book is a poignant, funny, and sometimes sad tale of one man's struggle to find his identity. It is a very personal self-examination, but one that most of us (all us "hyphenated" people) can relate to. Are you Cuban? Are you American? Are you "of Cuban descent"? Are you Cuban-American? Are you one person at home and another at work? These are difficult questions, and he walks us through the even more difficult process of trying to find an answer. Does he have an answer? Yes and no. The author also explores the Cuban community's rise from its initial status as an underprivileged, immigrant, "exile" community, to its present role as an assimilated, politically active, financially powerful ethinic force. All of this adds more depth to his own personal identity issues. The book is fascinating, thoughful, and full of relatives we can all look at and say "I have an aunt/uncle/mother/father/etc. just like that!"

   In the wake of the Elian Gonzalez saga, I just hope everyone reads this and remembers how and why we got here. Thank you, Professor Firmat.




5. This book made me come to terms with what being a Cuban born American means to me. Perez Firmat shares his own personal and sometimes painful experiences with the readers. In doing so he made it easier to define and understand my own experience as a Cuban-American who loves the United States yet has a yearning to gain a deeper understanding of his own Cuban roots.

1 comments about Cosechando esperanza: La historia de Cesar Chavez.

1. A wonderful introduction to an important topic; beautiful illustrations. Fantastic for classroom use, or just for personal enjoyment. Definitely add this to your library!

No comments about Mi Voz, Mi Vida: Latino College Students Tell Their Life Stories.

No comments about Ricardo's Race/ La Carrera De Ricardo.

5 comments about VIVA BASEBALL!: Latin Major Leaguers and Their Special Hunger (Sport and Society).

1. Excellent book about a side of baseball that is not often analyse, I really recomend this one...



2. Regalado provides a readable survey of the subject but his book is marred by failure to update his much-earlier academic dissertation on the topic, as well has his tendency at times to play rather loosely with the historical facts. It was Juan and not Luis Gonzalez who won a home run title, US sailors did not introduced baseball to Cuba on the Palmar de Junco field (see Roberto Gonzalez for the facts), pro baseball started in Cuba in 1878 and not 1868, Bobby Avila played for Almendares in the Cuban (not Mexican) league, Alejandro Oms did not play in the majors and Fidel Castro did not pitch for the University of Havana, Calvin Griffith was not Clark Griffith's son, Camilo Pascual and Pedro Ramos did not play for the Havana Sugar Kings in the AAA International League, Jose Santiago was Puerto Rico and not Cuban, and the 1891 Pittsburgh Pirates did not feature Ralph Kiner. This is a small sample of the bobbles which often marr an otherwise valuable casual fan's survey of Latino baseball.



3. This is a passable overview of Latin baseball history but one also filled with numerous smaller and larger errors (San Pedro de Macoris is not by any measure "a small Dominican town" and US sailors did not introduce baseball in Cuba at the Palmar de Junco field in 1866) plus careless treatment of ballplayers names (Luis Gonzalez for Juan Gonzalez, Pinella for Piniella, Roman Mejis for Mejias, etc. etc.). Also the author made little effort to update his work from its earlier incarnation as a doctoral disseration several years earlier. The effort could have been better.



4. Dr. Regalado did an amazing job with this book. It is a must read for any person that enjoys the history of baseball. Regalado wrote about a topic that doesn't get much attention and did so wonderfully.



5. "Viva Baseball! Latin Major Leaguers and Their Special Hunger" is a nearly effortless and highly entertaining read. Sam Regalado has managed to accomplished something very special: He has written a book for just about the full spectrum of the sports minded. Even if you're tangentially interested in baseball, you are likely to be griped by this heart warming story, which encompasses the hardships faced by Latin American baseball players, along with their "special hunger" to succeed, and finally their eventual triumph that gained them acceptance into North American professional baseball. For those students of history, Dr. Regalado, who teaches history at California State University,Stanislaus, manages to deftly weave in the important social /political and international events that shaped both the United States and the entire Western Hemisphere in the twentieth century. His treatment of the Cuban Missile Crisis, immigration trends and policies in the United States, and the tumult of Latin American politics, not to mention the farm workers movement led by Cesar Chavez and the racial politics of the 1960's in America, is clear, concise, and provides the reader with yet another lens from which to view these seminal events. Lest we forget this is a serious scholarly work, yet one that even neophyte students of history will find friendly.

   "Viva Baseball" brings a big smile to the faces of baseball fans as well, especially those who either lived the glory years of the 60's or have since become aficionados. He paints the legends of the San Francisco Giants, such as Juan Marichal (Dominican Republic), Orlando Cepeda (Puerto Rico) and Jose Pagan (Cuba) with such realism by relating fascinating anecdotes that reveal their struggles as dark skin immigrants to a largely hostile racial and nativistic society, and their amazing accomplishments both on and off the field. We witness a side of the great Robert Clemente hitherto hardly offered for popular consumption. He was portrayed by the press in Pittsburgh as aloof, temperamental and even hypochondriac. Clemente's sullenness was in reality a normal reaction to the racism he and other players faced and the unwarranted jabs thrown at him by sports writers. The true measure of the man was both in his classy prowess on the field and in his efforts to help those less fortunate, such as the event that claimed his life in 1973. The plane crash and sorrowful aftermath of Robert Clemente's death are portrayed with great emotion.

   My favorite story is of Luis Tiant Jr. Cold War politics isolated the Cuban member of the Boston Red Sox from his parents for fifteen years, until 1975 when Senator George McGovern apparently convinced Fidel Castro to allow Tiants to visit their son in Boston. The city of Boston, not known for its racial tolerance, rolled out the red carpet. Luis senior, who once objected to his son playing baseball in the U.S. because of prejudice, and Mrs. Tiant, watched their son win two games in the 1975 World Series. They both died the following year.

   "Viva Baseball!Latin Major Leaguers and Their Spceial Hunger" satiates a wide spectrum of readers,with many different appetites. With perhaps minimal intellectual engagement and reflection by the reader, Dr. Regalado demonstrates how sport has the capacity, not only to reflect important societal trends and events, but also to qualitatively transform society into a more just and tolerant order.

1 comments about Alisados: Vivencias de una Mujer Dominicana.

1. 
   Alisados: Vivencias de una Mujer Dominicana
   
   As a brown skinned Hispanic I could relate to the author. I find her anecdotes similar to mines and it shows the intricate details of ones culture. I encourage others to get this book and pass it along as a form of knot to tie each others past and cultures together--to share friendship.