Showing posts with label University of Arizona Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label University of Arizona Press. Show all posts

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Review: Mañana Means Heaven by Tim Z. Hernandez


Tim Z. Hernandez bases his novel Mañana Means Heaven on the story of Bea Franco, the young Chicana woman Jack Karouac meets while on his way to Los Angeles from San Francisco, during his travels across the United States, and who later appears in his famed novel On the Road as Terry, or "the Mexican girl."
"Mañana," she said. "Everything'll be all right tomorrow, don't you think, Sal-honey, man?"

"Sure, baby, mañana." It was always mañana. For the next week, that was all I heard --- mañana, a lovely word and one that probably means heaven. -- On the Road by Jack Kerouac
The title of the novel is taken directly from one of the passages of Karouac's novel, but this is Bea's story, not Jack's. That is made perfectly clear from the beginning. Hernandez takes Karouac's short chapter, and following the same timeline, cleverly weaves in Bea's background and breaths life into the woman by exposing the extreme emotional and familial circumstances that pushed her into opening up to a man like Jack, a gavacho "college boy," during that particular time in her life. A time that lasted but a blink in time, but one that changed both of their lives irrevocably.

Meeting Jack gives Bea hope while she is trapped in what seems like a hopeless and desperate situation that Hernandez utilizes to build tension throughout his novel. Franco's short time with Jack changes her. It gives her the determination and resiliency that may have been there all along, but that she learns to use to become a woman who expects better for and from herself. For Jack, much later that moment in time becomes the stepping stone that helps to propel his career as a writer when the Paris Review publishes his short story "Terry, the Mexican Girl," and well, the rest is history.

If Franco and her family are well researched by Hernandez, then so are the historical details. Hernandez takes the reader to a post WWII Los Angeles that comes alive with all of its paranoia and multicultural prejudices. But nothing comes alive more than the San Joaquin Valley and the plight of the pickers -- the smell and paranoia in the tent camps, the fear of immigration raids, the hatred for the implacable owners and the need for work, the child workers, the stultifying poverty, and through Bea, the desperation.

Hernandez utilizes mañana, tomorrow, as the main theme of his novel. The word mañana represents many different things to the different people who inhabit the novel. To Bea and her brother Alex it represents the possibility of a future and the realization of a dream. To the pickers in Selma it represents the basics, work, food, a warm place to stay. If not today, tomorrow things will work out. To Jack it is always a way to gain time, to learn more, to see more. To little Albert, it comes to represent lack of money, a lack of hope. However, Hernandez also uses partings, abandonment, leaving and returning as a secondary and more subtle theme throughout the novel.

As an award winning poet and writer familiar with Franco's cultural background, Hernandez was already well equipped to write a story about Karouac's muse. However, Hernandez's research into her life and his insights into the person Franco was, into the woman she became, takes her story beyond that of a myth. Highly recommended.

_____________________

Memorable Quote from Tim Z. Hernandez's Guest Post: "I Remain As Ever, Bea"
I spoke briefly about what Bea had taught me, and about what we might all learn from her story. That each of us, regardless of how seemingly insignificant or boring or obscure our lives may be, are made up of valuable epic stories that deserve their day in the light.

Related Posts:
Guest Author Tim Z. Hernandez: "I Remain As Ever, Bea"
RIP Bea Franco, Kerouac's "Terry, The Mexican Girl"
Highlighting: Manana Means Heaven by Tim Z. Hernandez

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Guest Author Tim Z. Hernandez: "I Remain as Ever, Bea"

Today, I would like to extend a big welcome to Tim Z. Hernandez, author of Mañana Means Heaventhe story of Bea Franco who for years was only known as Terry, the "Mexican girl" from Jack Karouac's On the Road.
Mañana Means Heaven deftly combines fact and fiction to pull back the veil on one of literature’s most mysterious and evocative characters. Inspired by Franco’s love letters to Kerouac and Hernandez’s interviews with Franco, now in her nineties and living in relative obscurity, the novel brings this lost gem of a story out of the shadows and into the spotlight.

Franco was sought out by dozens of Kerouac and Beat scholars, but none could find her. According to one, “finding Bea Franco is like trying to find the ghost of a needle in haystack.”
Well, Tim Z. Hernandez found the "needle in the haystack" and wrote a book that has received high praise from The Associated Press, Booklist and others, and that I am sure will continue to do so.

On a personal note, when The University of Arizona Press contacted me about the upcoming release of Mañana Means Heaven I was immediately taken in by the synopsis. It just captures the imagination. Later, as I was in the middle of reading Bea Franco's journey through life, I was quite shocked and saddened to learn that she had passed away.

Today is the last day in a week-long blog tour. By following the tour, you will find real insight into Tim's research by listening to interviews, reading notes from his journal, excellent question and answer sessions, or if you prefer, there are also book excerpts available.

For his last stop today, however, Hernandez chose to write a very personal post about Bea.

Blog Tour:
Monday, September 16 | Stephanie Nikolopoulos blog 
Tuesday, September 17 | The Daily Beat 
Wednesday, September 18 | La Bloga 
Thursday, September 19 | The Big Idea 
Friday, September 20 | The Dan O’Brien Project 

Welcome Tim!
______________________




I Remain as Ever, Bea

On the morning of August 15, 2013 I received a text from Albert Franco, Bea's son, telling me in only a few abbreviated words that his mother had passed away. This news took the breath out of me. It was unexpected, to say the least. I had just recently spoken with Patricia, Bea's daughter, who Bea had been staying with in Long Beach. My family and I were making plans to see her while we were going to be in California. At the time, Patricia said something to the effect of, "My mother's been doing much better lately and I'm sure she'd like to see you." So my wife and I began planning. Just a few days earlier, on August 3, after receiving copies of my book in the mail from my publisher, I hurried to the post office and sent Bea a package, which included a signed copy of the book, her book, along with a bound photo album I had made her, compiled with all the photos and documents her family had loaned me during the writing of her book. Days later Patricia called to tell me the package had arrived and how excited they all were. I asked if she wouldn' t mind taking a few pictures of Bea holding her book, and she agreed. On August 7, I received several text messages from Patricia's daughter Dina, images of Bea smiling with her copy of Mañana Means Heaven in her hands. She had that same curious glint in her eye that I had come to know, as if to say, it's about time! Of course, in that moment we had no idea that these photographs would become the only evidence that Bea did in fact live to see her life story told in the pages of a book. No longer merely the fictional "Mexican girl" of Kerouac's imagination, or the quiet and unassuming campesina that appeared for all of two minutes in Walter Salles' movie, On the Road, but Beatrice Renteria Franco, now Bea Kozera, the real woman, the real deal.


On the very day Mañana Means Heaven was to land on the shelves of bookstores across the nation, Thursday August 29, a handful of friends and family gathered at the idyllic Belmont Memorial Park in Fresno, California to pay their last respects to this "petite woman with fire in her heart," as one of Bea's relatives remarked. For the better part of three years, it seemed every member of my family was also invested in Bea's story. (It was my mother who actually located her whereabouts back in 2010. After telling her I was about to give up my search for Bea and just get on with the book, she replied, "Give me your files and notes, I'll find her!" 24 hours later, she handed me two possible leads.) Even my cousin Art, when I went to visit him in the pen the first thing out of his mouth was, "Have you finished your book about the Mexican girl?" And of course, so many times my wife Dayanna had watched me return from my interviews with Bea beaming with excitement. Like this, my family, even our children, became familiar with Bea; through our visits with her, through the myriad photos which hung on the wall above my desk as I wrote the book, through the sound of Bea's own tender voice played back on my video camera, for three solid years we lived with her presence. Needless to say, at her services, we were all there together. I was asked by her son Albert to share a few words, and so I spoke briefly about what Bea had taught me, and about what we might all learn from her story. That each of us, regardless of how seemingly insignificant or boring or obscure our lives may be, are made up of valuable epic stories that deserve their day in the light. Standing at the podium, I concluded my thoughts by sharing one small but very cool detail about Bea. Over the years she had enjoyed writing letters and postcards to people, and she had a distinct way of signing off. I could clearly see that curious glint in her eye shine, each time she assured her reader, "I Remain as Ever, Bea."


Tim Z. Hernandez, copyright 2013
______________________


Mañana Means Heaven by Tim Z. Hernandez
Released: August 29, 2013
The University of Arizona Press
In this love story of impossible odds, award-winning writer Tim Z. Hernandez weaves a rich and visionary portrait of Bea Franco, the real woman behind famed American author Jack Kerouac’s “The Mexican Girl.” Set against an ominous backdrop of California in the 1940s, deep in the agricultural heartland of the Great Central Valley, Mañana Means Heaven reveals the desperate circumstances that lead a married woman to an illicit affair with an aspiring young writer traveling across the United States.

When they meet, Franco is a migrant farmworker with two children and a failing marriage, living with poverty, violence, and the looming threat of deportation, while the “college boy” yearns to one day make a name for himself in the writing world. The significance of their romance poses vastly different possibilities and consequences.

Mañana Means Heaven deftly combines fact and fiction to pull back the veil on one of literature’s most mysterious and evocative characters. Inspired by Franco’s love letters to Kerouac and Hernandez’s interviews with Franco, now in her nineties and living in relative obscurity, the novel brings this lost gem of a story out of the shadows and into the spotlight.
About the Author: Tim Z. Hernandez is a poet, novelist, and performance artist whose awards include the 2006 American Book Award, the 2010 Premio Aztlan Prize in Fiction, and the James Duval Phelan Award from the San Francisco Foundation. He is the author of two books of poetry, Natural Takeover of Small Things (2013) and Skin Tax, and the novels Mañana Means Heaven (2013) and Breathing in Dust. In 2011 the Poetry Society of America named him one of sixteen New American Poets. He holds a BA from Naropa University and an MFA from Bennington College.

Visit Tim Z. Hernandez here.
Buy the book here.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

RIP Bea Franco, Kerouac's "Terry, the Mexican Girl"

As you may have noticed by my previous posts, at the moment I'm totally involved in reading Mañana Means Heaven by Tim Z. Hernandez, the story of Bea Franco or "Terry, the Mexican Girl" of Jack Karouac's On the Road fame. Sadly, today I received the following notification via email:
Fresno, CA. (August 19, 2013) — Beatrice Kozera, a.k.a. Bea Franco, a.k.a. “Terry” of legendary American author Jack Kerouac’s magnum opus, On the Road, died of natural causes on the morning of Thursday August 15, 2013 in Lakewood, California.

In her own words, her life was “nothing special.” Which might be true, if you do not count that her role in the author's career was important enough to include her name in over twenty biographies on Kerouac, and that she had amassed a literary cult following for the past 56 years, all unbeknownst to her and her family. In late autumn of 1947 she met the young Kerouac in Selma, California where she was living in the farmworker labor camps with her family. The two struck up a relationship that lasted fifteen days, which he chronicled in his book On the Road— a novel that sparked the counterculture generation and was recently made into a movie featuring Brazilian actress Alice Braga in the role of “Terry.” What has been largely unknown is that after six years of rejections it was the story of “Terry, the Mexican Girl” that opened the doors for the publication of Kerouac’s novel. The timing of her death was unfortunate, considering that later this month a book based on her life and written with her participation, titled, Mañana Means Heaven by author Tim Z. Hernandez is being released. “My mother hung on just long enough to see and hold the book in her hands,” her son Albert commented.

Beatrice Kozera was born Beatrice Renteria in Los Angeles, California in 1920, and spent most of the early part of her life following the seasons with her family, picking cotton, grapes and other crops. She eventually settled down in Fresno, California with her husband LeRoy Kozera, who in her own words, “Was a good man who gave me a good life.” She is survived by her son Albert Franco and her daughter Patricia Leonard, along with several grandchildren and great grandchildren.
The news of Bea Franco's death has been picked up nationally and internationally. She was 92 years old.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Highlighting: Mañana Means Heaven by Tim Z. Hernandez

Mañana Means Heaven by Tim Z. Hernandez
Publication Date: August 29, 2013
Camino del Sol: A Latina and Latino Literary Series

The University of Arizona Press


Tim Z. Hernandez lifts the veil on one of literature’s most mysterious and evocative characters.

Readers across the world know Jack Kerouac and his famous novel, On the Road, but most don’t know that prior to its publication, Kerouac received countless rejections. It wasn’t until an excerpt titled “The Mexican Girl” was published in The Paris Review, earned rave reviews, and found its way into the Best American Short Stories of 1956 anthology that the novel was accepted for publication.

Given the relevance that “The Mexican Girl” had in Kerouac’s career, little has been known about the real “Terry,” actually Bea Franco. In Mañana Means Heaven, acclaimed writer Tim Z. Hernandez pulls Bea from out of the shadows and presents a rich and visionary novel portraying the woman behind the scenes in the novel that defined a generation. As author Paul Maher says, “Hernandez offers a dazzling offshoot from the oft-explored road story that is Kerouac’s.”

Set against an ominous backdrop of California in the 1940s, deep in the agricultural heartland of the Great Central Valley, Hernandez’s novel reveals the desperate circumstances that led a married woman to an illicit affair with an aspiring young writer traveling across the United States. When they meet, Franco is a migrant farmworker with two children and a failing marriage, living with poverty, violence, and the looming threat of deportation, while the “college boy” yearns to one day make a name for himself in the writing world. The significance of their romance poses vastly different possibilities and consequences.

Franco was sought out by dozens of Kerouac and Beat scholars, but none could find her. According to one, “finding Bea Franco is like trying to find the ghost of a needle in haystack.”

But 55 years after publication of Kerouac’s novel, Hernandez discovered Franco alive, and living in relative obscurity only one mile from his own home in Fresno, California. “It was an alignment, really, that I was able to find her. It just so happened that I knew where to look and who to ask. I have since been fortunate to develop a strong relationship with her and her family."

Based on Franco’s love letters to Kerouac and Hernandez’s interviews with Franco, the novel Mañana Means Heaven brings this lost gem of a story into the spotlight. Featuring a foreword and afterword chronicling Hernandez’s personal quest to find Franco, this novel deftly combines fact and fiction to lift the veil on a character who has lived far too long in the shadows.

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Tim Z. Hernandez is a poet, novelist, and performance artist whose awards include the 2006 American Book Award, the 2010 Premio Aztlán Prize in Fiction, and the James Duval Phelan Award from the San Francisco Foundation. In 2011 the Poetry Society of America named him one of sixteen New American Poets. He holds a BA from Naropa University and an MFA from Bennington College and is the author of the novel Breathing, In Dust, as well as three collections of poetry, including the recently released Natural Takeover of Small Things. Learn more at his website, www.timzhernandez.com.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Red-Inked Retablos by Rigoberto González

Red-Inked Retablos by Rigoberto González
Cover Illustration:
The Song that Traverses a Tenebrous World
(oil on wood 10" x 16", 2008)
by Tino Rodriguez
In the Mexican Catholic tradition, retablos are ornamental structures made of carved wood framing an oil painting of a devotional image, usually a patron saint. Acclaimed author and essayist Rigoberto González commemorates the passion and the pain of these carvings in his new volume Red-Inked Retablos, a moving memoir of human experience and thought.

This frank new collection masterfully combines accounts from González’s personal life with reflections that offer an in-depth meditation of the develop of Chicano literature, gay Chicano literature and the responsibilities that being a Gay Chicana/o writer carries.

Widely acclaimed for giving a voice to the Chicano GLBT community, González’s writing spans a wide range of genres: poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and bilingual books for children and young adults. Introduced by Women’s Studies professor Maythee Rojas, Retablos collects thirteen pieces that together provide a narrative of González’s life from his childhood through his career as a writer, critic, and mentor.

In Red-Inked Retablos, González continues to expand his oeuvre on mariposa (literally, “butterfly”) memory, a genre he pioneered in which Chicano/a writers openly address [non-traditional] sexuality. For González, mariposa memory is important testimony not only about reconfiguring personal identity in relation to masculinity, culture, and religion. It’s also about highlighting values like education, shaping a sex-positive discourse, and exercising agency through a public voice. It’s about making the queer experience a Chicano experience and the Chicano experience a queer one.
The thirteen essays included in this collection are presented as retablos that frame different periods of González's life and where his passions and beliefs are conveyed through prose. Red-Inked Retablos by Rigoberto González is a creative nonfiction piece that draws the reader with its honest narrative style.

In his introduction, González states: "My purpose is not to claim Truth, but to provide perspective -- mine -- and invite a response to that flawed, imperfect point of view. In the end, that is what nonfiction writing, like a cherished retablo, does best: inspire contemplation." Throughout the book, González struggles with, and confronts that imperfect point of view and flawed memory, and through his own observations and experiences invites the reader to his/her own contemplations.

González begins the first section of the collection, "Self-Portraits," with five essays based on intimate family and personal details that formed the man, organically moving on to those that formed the poet and writer in "Studies," and in "Speeches" we meet the defined gay Chicano activist and educator. The excellent conclusion to the collection, "Trinity," is an homage to the mariposa memory genre -- its past, present, and hopeful future. This section only contains one essay, "Toward a Mariposa Consciousness," divided into three parts, Butterfly (A)jar, Mariposa Lit, and Mariposa Prayer.

As a Latina who grew up as part of an immigrant family, I found myself connecting with Mr. González's experiences and thinking deeply about the "bi" of all things -- the duality that comes along with 'the bilingual and bicultural' for a young immigrant -- and the sense of not belonging here nor there. The long search for a place to belong to a place where the self feels grounded and not as if it were the eternal foreigner or passing tourist standing on the outside looking in, trying but unable to find the heart of a place instead of the superficiality that feeds a tourist's disorientation. Searching for understanding and connection through study.

It was easy then for me to understand and/or connect González's immigrant experience (and my own search for personal identity) with his passion for expanding the mariposa memory, as well as his passion for promoting education and responsibility among the Chicano/Latino and LGBTQ Latina/o communities of writers and educators to continue to use their voices. "For González, mariposa memory is important testimony not only about reconfiguring personal identity in relation to masculinity, culture, and religion. It’s also about highlighting values like education, shaping a sex-positive discourse, and exercising agency through a public voice. It’s about making the queer experience a Chicano experience and the Chicano experience a queer one."

There is little else that can be said about Red-Inked Retablos and Rigoberto González that hasn't already been said in the extremely accurate and detailed summary quoted above. I can tell you that in his collection of retablos, González's journey is written in such an honest, 'tell-it-like-it-is' style that it inspires the reader to both action and contemplation.

Category: Literary/Creative Nonfiction
Series: Camino del Sol: A Latina and Latino Literary Series
Publisher/Release Date: UA Press, March 14, 2013
Source: ARC from UA Press
Grade: B+

Visit Rigoberto González here.
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To give you an idea of a few books within the mariposa memory genre category so passionately promoted by Rigoberto González, you can find my reviews and/or impressions of 4 books listed in his essay "Toward a Mariposa Consciousness", Part II. Mariposa Lit. (Click on titles to read posts)

From Macho to Mariposa: New Gay Latino Fiction ed. by Charles Rice-González & Charlie Vázquez
Chulito by Charles Rice-González
We the Animals by Justin Torres
Slow Lightning by Edward C. Corral

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Poetry: Natural Takeover of Small Things by Tim Z. Hernandez

Natural Takeover of Small Things
by Tim Z. Hernandez
Natural Takeover of Small Things by Tim Z. Hernandez is an intimate portrayal of life in California's San Joaquin Valley with all its beauty and exposed flaws. Mr. Hernandez's poetry is personal and while some poems are rendered with deeply moving, lyrical and rhythmic prose, others are rather straight forward, raw and cutting in nature. There is no real place for nostalgia in Hernandez's memories of "home;" instead there is realism filled with love and care in the shaping of moments, places and people who live and die in the valley -- from campesinos who work the land to those who become collateral damage.

The culture of the West and Western Latino culture permeate Hernandez's poetry. Readers experience the pride embodied by hardworking men and women, as well as substandard living conditions, wasted lives, and personal loses. But there is also taste and smell to savor in Hernandez's poetry: menudo, lengua, the fruits of the valley, the earthy smell of the campo -- the beauty and the tragedy.

This 80 page book is divided into three sections: The Arms in Dead Heat, San Joaquin Sutra, and Natural Takeover of Small Things.

I. Arms in Dead Heat includes memories of life in the San Joaquin Valley beginning with the poem that hooked me, Home:
Fresno is the inexhaustible nerve
in the twitching leg of a dog [...]
II. San Joaquin Sutra describes the beauty and the tragedy;
[...]
San Joaquin Valley,
where tired faces water quaint gardens with cut hoses,
bending to bury
the corn next to the sugarcane, reaching
for the avocado on the highest branch,
the melon's elusive fragrance
in all directions toward all the windows in all the houses on all the streets,
sweet invisible nectars drifting
in vastness of big sky
where taunts a kite
broken free
of its
strings.

☀ ☀ ☀
San Joaquin -
where sickly bodies of old Texan mothers draped in aprons of sunflower
and waning seasons sit idly by, waiting for some slick cancer to escort
their last days to proms of disintegration, while the souls of
amputated limbs
twitch anxious habits for workloads of the waiting day, [...]
III. Natural Takeover of Small Things is full of reflections on those little details that make up life and bring eventual death, the letting go of one life to begin another. Adios, Fresno says is all . . .
Adios, Fresno
You could use more letters of love.
Here, take these. You owe me nothing, except back pay.
But I won't mention it again.
Trust me when I say I'll have no regrets leaving you. [...]
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About the Author: Tim Z. Hernandez is a poet, novelist, and performance artist whose awards include the 2006 American Book Award, the 2010 Premio Aztlan Prize in Fiction, and the James Duval Phelan Award from the San Francisco Foundation. He is the author of a previous book of poetry, Skin Tax, and the novel Breathing in Dust. In 2011 the Poetry Society of America named him one of sixteen New American Poets. His novel of historical fiction, Mañana Means Heaven, based on the life of Bea Franco, will release in Fall of 2013. He holds a BA from Naropa University and an MFA from Bennington College.

Category: Poetry
Series: Camino del Sol: A Latina and Latino Literary Series
ARC provided by Publisher: The University of Arizona Press
Publication Date: February 21, 2013

All poetry quotes taken from Natural Takeover of Small Things by Tim Z. Hernandez. © Tim Z. Hernandez, 2013.

Friday, March 2, 2012

February 2012: Reads + Updates

February has been an eventful month. This month usually spells love for me... all types of love, and I think that was reflected in most of my posts, reads, and reviews in February. Whether the books were good old contemporary romance with a happily ever after, a poetry collection about love found and loss, or a story about a dysfunctional family whose love was nevertheless fierce and all encompassing, love was at the center. I read few books though, and that was basically due to my obsessive poetry reading.

Highlighted this month were two poems by the poet Konstantinos P. Kavafis or C. P. Cavafy (the English translation of his name). I was introduced to this poet by one of my brothers who happens to love Kavifis' poetry and I must thank him for the introduction. We now share the love.

I was inspired to read Kavafis' poetry while reading He Will Laugh by the gay poet Douglas Ray. There's a bit of buzz going on about poetry within the LGBT community. I reviewed two LGBT poetry books this month which is unusual, and have seen the increase in published collections. An interesting development. Yes? You'll ask, how does that tie in with Kavafis? Well, we all know about Oscar Wilde, and (as I found out in another site) not everyone knows about Walt Whitman, but did you know that Kostantinos P. Kavafis is considered one of the early modern authors to write openly about homosexuality?

Konstantinos P. Kavafis (April 29, 1863 to April 29, 1933) was born in Alexandria, Egypt of Greek parents. Although Kavafis was Greek, he lived in Alexandria most of his life and didn't write most of his most acclaimed poetry until he was in his 40's. His poetry is considered Hellenistic, and although history can be found sprinkled throughout the core of his poetry, for many the allure of Kavafis' poetry really lies in the direct and open way in which he portrays sensual pleasures, his prosaic use of metaphors and the repeated use of themes such as the uncertainty of life and/or the future, and that fatalistic nostalgia that just seems to pour out of some of his works.
 
Two of his most important poems are "Waiting for the Barbarians" (1904) and "Ithaca" (1911). However, for purposes of this post I will be highlighting two additional poems that, like the ones I've already posted -- "Days of 1903" and "I've Looked So Much" -- exemplify the poet's sensual style, usually leaden with nostalgia for youthful encounters or loves found and lost, all of them unmistakably homosexual.

One Night by Konstantinos P. Kavafis

In the Dull Village by David Hockney
(1966) etching and aquatint print
Illustrated a selection of poems by
C. P. Cavafy
The room above the bar
was the cheapest we could find.
We could see the filthy alley
from the window, hear the shouts
of the workmen at their card-games.

Yet there on that narrow bed
I had love’s body, knew its red lips;
those lips so full, so bloody with desire
that now as I write, after so many years,
in this lonely house... I’m drunk with them again.

The Boat by Konstantinos P. Kavafis

This little pencil sketch –
it’s certainly him.
It was made quickly, one long
charmed afternoon
on the Ionian. Yes, I’d say
it caught his looks –
though I have him more handsome;
so must the sensualist, you’d say
he was lit up with it... Yes, he looks
so much more handsome,
now my heart calls him
from so long ago. So long.
All these things are very old – the sketch,
and the boat, and the afternoon.

❃❃❃

February Reads: 11 
  Contemporary Romance: 2
  Historical Romance: 2
  Fiction: 2
  Science Fiction:2
  LGBT:  3 (Poetry: 1 Mystery: 1 Historical/Mystery/Romance: 1)

1.  He Will Laugh by Douglas Ray: A-
2.  Anyone But You by Jennifer Crusie: B+
3.  Shards of Honor (Vorkosigan Saga #1) by Lois McMaster Bujold: B
4.  Crimes on Latimer: From the Early Cases of Marco Fontana by Joseph R.G. DeMarco
5.  The Red Garden by Alice Hoffman: B
6.  Matthew (The Circle Eight #1) by Emma Lang: B
7.  My Wicked Little Lies by Victoria Alexander: B
8.  The Master of Seacliff by Max Pierce: B
9.  The Lover's Dictionary by David Levithan: B
10. Hell Yeah by Carolyn Brown
11. How I Proposed to My Wife: An Alien Sex Story by John Scalzi: C
12. Snowbound by Larissa Ione: DNF - Not for me

Upcoming Reviews:


Reading at the Moment:

Walking the Clouds:
An Anthology of Indigenous
Science Fiction
In this first-ever anthology of Indigenous science fiction Grace Dillon collects some of the finest examples of the craft with contributions by Native American, First Nations, Aboriginal Australian, and New Zealand Maori authors. The collection includes seminal authors such as Gerald Vizenor, historically important contributions often categorized as "magical realism" by authors like Leslie Marmon Silko and Sherman Alexie, and authors more recognizable to science fiction fans like William Sanders and Stephen Graham Jones.
From the University of Arizona Press, this is a fascinating read so far! It released in March, but I wish I had received this book in February so that I could have read it as part of my participation in the 2012 Science Fiction Experience. I will let you all know how these stories turn out, but I can tell you that so far the introduction alone has me excited. :)

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That's it for February, it was a month of poetry and love. Next I will be summarizing my reads and posts for the 2012 Science Fiction Experience. However, please know that my computer at home crashed again! So unless I can somehow repair it this weekend, this will be my last post for a couple of days.

How was your February? Any great reads?