translator: Gabriela Baeza Ventura
illustrator: Robert Casilla
Piñata
Books / Arte Público Press, 2015
grades 2-up
Aztec, Mexican
Death, to the ancient
Aztec people, was not to be feared. Rather, death was just a part of life, as
was the afterlife. A long and beautiful Aztec story describes the perilous
four-year journey of the non-living through nine afterworlds—determined by the
person’s life and manner of death—before finally reaching the land of the dead.
Warriors and those who had been sacrificed, for instance, went to the dwelling
place of the sun. Women who had died giving birth were considered warriors as
well, and went to the region of the women. Children went to the land of the
wet-nurse tree, where they suckled and waited to be reborn. Festivals
commemorating the dead were held in different months of the Aztec calendar.[1]
Today, El Día de
los Muertos continues to be celebrated in various ways, in Mexican and Central
American communities, and in southwestern parts of the US. The celebrations include
parades, music, papier-máché skeletons, and candy; and culminate with picnics
at the cleaned and decorated gravesites. At home, there are beautiful ofrendas,
with photos and flowers, and food items that had been savored by the deceased. All
this is not only to remember a particular
family’s and community’s dead, but also to entice them back for a visit.[2]
In addition, as
my friend and colleague Judy Zalazar Drummond writes, it’s a “healthy
alternative to Halloween with its spooks and goblins. The celebration is from Mexico, but reflects death rituals
in many other cultures. It shows a healthy worldview where death is not seen as
hideous and horrible and to be feared. Instead, it is real and involves real
people and their real lives. Day of the Dead also provides a powerful resource
to help young people cope with the violence and death in their families and
communities. It provides a format for grieving and remembering loved ones that
speaks to the continuity and cyclical nature of life.”[3]
In The Remembering Day / El Día de los Muertos,
Mora imagines how “this custom of creating a remembering day might have started
in the distant past, in a rural village; when indigenous languages and not
Spanish or English, were spoken on this hemisphere…” Here, Mamá Alma and her
young granddaughter, Bella, do everything together: they play and cook, and
they work in the garden growing vegetables and flowers. As the child matures,
Mamá Alma teaches her how to weave on the loom, how to cure a sick bird and
which herbs to use in healing. The two share memories; towards the end of her
life, Mamá Alma tells her granddaughter that “our bodies do not always live
forever,” and encourages her to plan an annual “remembering day.” “Teach
others,” she says, “that when we think about the people we love, they are
always with us, even though we can’t see them.” After her beloved Mamá Alma has
passed on, Bella brings her grandmother’s wishes to the community and, a year
later, the first “Remembering Day” occurs.
Baeza Ventura’s
rhythmic, idiomatic Spanish translation closely follows the English. The night
that Mamá Alma dies, for instance, “Bella woke and saw a tiny light dart
through their reed door into the night” becomes, “Esa noche, Bella despertó y
vio una pequeña luz que rápidamente escapaba por la puerta de caña hacia la
noche.”
Casilla’s
realistic art, rendered in watercolors and pastels on a bejeweled palette of
mostly warm colors, are gorgeous. His models appear to be Zapotec and the
Mexican countryside, with its rolling hills, trees, cacti and flowers, appears
to be Oaxaca, which is where the story is based. But most of all, I love the
details. Here is grandma, imparting knowledge and wisdom to her adoring
grandchild. Here’s a hummingbird in several illustrations, including one
cradled in Mamá Alma’s hand, allowing Bella to gingerly touch it. Here are the
marigolds, which, today as yesterday, are used to lure the dead home. And here are
children, sleeping in a hammock, while Bella awakes, serenely accepting her
Mamá Alma’s journey.
The Remembering Day / El Día de los
Muertos has the feel of
a contemporary story about a warm, loving relationship between a Zapotec child
and her grandmother, part of a Oaxacan farm family living in a village of small
houses with thatched roofs, veggie and flower gardens, and children sleeping in
hammocks. But it doesn’t have the feel—nor is it informative of—El Día de los
Muertos, the holiday that celebrates the dead and entices them back to
visit.
There’s always
danger in a “contemporary reimagining” of an origin tale that leaves out the
important parts. Here, for instance, the word “died” is mentioned only once,
and “muertos,” twice. And “Remembering Day” is not translated as “El Día de los Muertos,” which is much more than
a day for remembering one’s own ancestors. It’s a large, symbolic, community
holiday, steeped in both Indigenous, and later, merged European (Catholic)
traditions that welcomes the change of the seasons; and welcomes and honors
visits from the community’s dead.
Instead of Mora’s
crafting this fictionalized origin of an important death ritual, I’d rather
have seen a story of how this particular girl came to understand this particular
ritual. As a contemporary story about a grandmother’s aging and transition in a
Zapotec family and community, The
Remembering Day / El Día de los Muertos would have been highly recommended.
But, despite the title in Spanish and this family’s “remembering day”
tradition, it’s not about the “first” Día de los Muertos, and cannot be
recommended as such.
—Beverly Slapin
(Great thanks to
Judy Zalazar Drummond, and I’d like to acknowledge the life and work of my
multitalented colleague, Bobbie Salinas, whom I imagine is joyfully carousing
with her friends in the Land of the Dead.)
[1] This
information is from Bobbi Salinas’s beautiful book, Indo-Hispanic Folk Art Traditions II: The Day of the Dead and other
year-round activities (Piñata Publications, 1988). It’s out of print, but
worth a search.
[2] There
are many good children’s books available, specifically about or complementing
El Día de los Muertos. Some of them are: Days
of the Dead by Kathryn Lasky (Hyperion, 1994), The Festival of Bones / El Festival de las Calaveras (The Little Bitty
Book for the Day of the Dead) by Luis San Vicente (Cinco Puntos, 2002), Funny Bones: Posada and His Day of the Dead
Calaveras by Duncan Tonatiuh (Abrams, 2015), Just in Case: A Trickster Tale and Spanish Alphabet Book by Yuyi
Morales (Roaring Brook, 2008), Just a
Minute: A Trickster Tale and Counting Book by Yuyi Morales (Chronicle,
2003), Light Foot / Pies ligeros by
Natalia and Francisco Toledo (Groundwood, 2007), Mi Familia Calaca / My Skeleton Family by Cynthia Weil (Cinco Puntos, 2013), My Aunt Otila’s Spirits / Los Espíritus de
mi Tía Otilia by Richard García (Children’s Book Press / Lee & Low, 1986), and Pablo Remembers: The Fiesta of the Day of the Dead by George Ancona
(Lothrop, 1997).
[3] From
Día de los Muertos: Lesson Plans, written and compiled by Judy Zalazar
Drummond, professor, and Teacher Education students at the University of San
Francisco (2005).
"Casilla’s realistic art, rendered in watercolors and pastels on a bejeweled palette of mostly warm colors, are gorgeous. His models appear to be Zapotec and the Mexican countryside, with its rolling hills, trees, cacti and flowers, appears to be Oaxaca, which is where the story is based. But most of all, I love the details. Here is grandma, imparting knowledge and wisdom to her adoring grandchild. Here’s a hummingbird in several illustrations, including one cradled in Mamá Alma’s hand, allowing Bella to gingerly touch it. Here are the marigolds, which, today as yesterday, are used to lure the dead home."
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written review. Interestingly enough, just this past year we had Duncan Tonatieuh's own "Funny Bones, Dia De Los Muertos, though of course the approach in the book was completely different, though quite exquisite. I am most taken with what you say here about the art. I understand it doesn't do much to examine the meaning of the day, and as such can't be recommended. Fortunately the Tonatieuh titles does a great job on that count. But I'd certainly like to see this book, especially after your sturdy recommendation of the art.