1 comments about Latinas: Hispanic Women in the United States.

1. Many history coverages obscure or dilute the important roles played by Hispanic women in the U.S: Hedda Garza seeks to correct this lack through Latinas: Hispanic Women In The U. S.: a survey of the major contributions to this country provided by women leader, organizers and activists from diverse Hispanic backgrounds. Garza has long been a lecturer and an activist for social justice: the appearance of her study in paperwork is a recommended pick for college-level collections strong in Hispanic history and social issues.

1 comments about Oscar "Zeta" Acosta: The Uncollected Works.

1. With this book the Brown Buffalo has established himself as a great writer of gonzo.

No comments about No Greater Love: The Lives and Times of Hispanic Soldiers.

No comments about Viva Elfego!.

3 comments about Las hijas de Juan: Daughters Betrayed (Latin America Otherwise).

1. I appreciated the author's courage in telling her story, reliving the horrors of life with an abusive father, and showing women that life can improve & move forward in spite of trauma. I also liked that she included a lot of Spanish phrases (more like whole sentences & dialogues) that add sabor mejicano (Mexican flavor) to the story; reading her description of life in Tabasco was like watching a movie only with smells and tastes, etc. It was beautifully detailed. What irked me from the very beginning, however, was that Mendez-Negrete wrote the book in English but used a Spanish grammar structure throughout. Why? In English, every sentence has a subject; in Spanish, no subject is required. They're different languages w/different grammar. But, she left out the subjects of many of the English sentences in the book. Like these: "Can't remember the color....Don't remember the designs....Still hoped for a miracle" (94-95). Why didn't an editor just go through the book, adding "I" to these sentences (or whatever subject was missing)? Reading these lines all in a row at times sounded like fingernails scraping a chalkboard even though the story she was telling was riveting & original. I wish some friend or publishing professional had suggested using the Spanish grammar only for the parts of the book written in Spanish & sticking to English grammar for the rest. I wonder if it was an attempt at creativity? If so, to ears accustomed to & fond of hearing English & Spanish but not both conflated, it grated on my nerves. Maybe other readers who want English to be more like Spanish will enjoy her writing style.



2. I took a class of Josie's and that class totally changed my way of thinking. It was totally an awesome experience. Las hijas, is like Josie telling you her story as a best friend or comadre in which she truly confides in you. She brings you into her world and shows you the joys the pains and the personal triumphs. I was able to hear her read a couple excerpts from this book in class and at a reading. I took some friends and family, and they were all balling. It really hits home to people who have been abused or know people who have suffered in such ways. It's good to have someone strong enough to speak up for the ones who cannot.



3. If you were a victim--of rape, incest, neglect, physical abuse, or even mental abuse, this is a must own book. The author does tell a horrific tale, but the point is she chose to survive and in doing so refused to remain a victim. A story for any man or woman who has grown tired of thinking of his or her position in the world as victim. An excellent book for anyone going into social work or teaching. A bildugsroman for the 21st century.

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

1 comments about Cortijo's Wake / El entierro de Cortijo.

1. A wonderful memory of a dear friend and one of the kindest human beings I've had the pleasure to know.

   I left Puerto Rico in 1980 and still, in my heart, think of it as home.

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

1. 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.



2. 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.




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. 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.



5. 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."

1 comments about Roberto Clemente: Young Ball Player (Childhood of Famous Americans).

1. My son read this book. It was an early chapter book, and not difficult to read. Factual, although not very exciting. I had to "make" my son keep reading (for a school biography book report). When he was done, he said he liked the book, but was not inspired to find out more.

1 comments about Gronk (A Ver).

1. In recent years, Chicano art has received some of the respect long denied it by museums, critics and educators.
   
   This did not happen without such diverse supporters as comedian Cheech Marin and Gary D. Keller, director of Bilingual Review/Press at Arizona State University. Through the publication of handsome, well-annotated books and the preparation of traveling exhibitions, they and others have encouraged this evolution of attitude and opinion.
   
   Such advocacy continues. In 2002, the UCLA Chicano Studies Research Center Press established the book project "A Ver: Revisioning Art History," billed as the only series on Chicano, Puerto Rican, Cuban, Dominican, and other U.S.-based Latino artists. The center's director, Chon Noriega, edits the series, which is distributed by the University of Minnesota Press.
   
   The first book in the series is "Gronk" ($24.95 paperback; $60 hardcover with documentary DVD), a biography of the artist of that name by Max Benavidez, a Los Angeles writer and scholar. Through Benavidez's well-researched text, generously illustrated by Gronk's art and photographs from the artist's life, we come to understand not only the importance of his art but also the personal and historical events that inform his artistic vision.
   
   Gronk was born in 1954 and grew up in East Los Angeles. Benavidez notes that this predominantly Mexican-American community was "a place literally and figuratively outside the mainstream." Residents suffered from government neglect, poverty, gang violence and drug abuse.
   
   In this setting, Gronk was further marginalized when his father abandoned the family. Gronk was often left unattended at a young age because his mother had to work.
   
   Eventually, he discovered the public library and spent countless hours there, reading book after book, moving alphabetically through the shelves. When a librarian learned of Gronk's reading plan, she sternly but wisely told him to "start with the Greeks and then work your way up to the present."
   
   In addition to books, Gronk fell in love with movies and television shows of all genres and quality.
   
   As Gronk moved into adolescence, he still felt like an outsider, in part because he was gay. Benavidez writes that during this period of self-discovery, Gronk became such a master of reinvention that questions still linger about his biographical details. While Gronk says his full name is Glugio Gronk Nicandro, Benavidez finds conflicting evidence regarding even this seemingly simple element of Gronk's identity.
   
   In due course, Gronk gravitated toward like-minded young people as he began to develop as a playwright, actor, filmmaker and artist. He helped form Asco, a group of "self-styled misfits and cultural radicals" that originally included Harry Gamboa Jr., Patssi Valdez and Willie Herrón III. The late artist Jerry Dreva also had a major influence on Gronk's work.
   
   Gronk eventually created his most famous image, the iconic "La Tormenta," who is always depicted facing away from the viewer. La Tormenta wears long black gloves and a matching gown that plunges in a deep "V" down her back. As Benavidez notes, La Tormenta can be seen as Gronk's "glamorously stylish alter ego" who is "central to his artistic arsenal, that serves as a symbolic counterpoint of an 'authentic,' stable sexual identity."
   
   The political turmoil of the times also influenced Gronk's work. For example, the powerful "Black and White Mural" (a collaboration with fellow Asco member Herrón) was inspired by the 1970 Chicano Moratorium, a national protest against the Vietnam War. One of the more potent images depicted in the mural is the infamous killing of reporter Rubén Salazar by a sheriff's deputy who needlessly fired two 10-inch tear-gas projectiles through a curtain into the Silver Dollar Café in East Los Angeles.
   
   Benavidez offers a riveting, clear-eyed and contextualized midcareer examination of Gronk's development not only as an artist but also as a person.
   
   For more information on this exciting and much-needed book series, visit [...].
   
   [This review first appeared in the El Paso Times.]