Showing posts with label Benjamin Alire Sáenz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Benjamin Alire Sáenz. Show all posts

Sammy and Juliana in Hollywood


author: Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Cinco Puntos Press, 2004
high school-up
Mexican American

The Hollywood of Sáenz’s first novel for young adult readers is a ragged barrio of Las Cruces, New Mexico, where Sammy Santos and his friends live in the year 1969. Toward the end of his junior year of high school Sammy begins to notice classmate Juliana Ríos, whose self-confidence in the face of racist teachers inspires Sammy. Juliana, however, hides a desperate home situation that results over the summer in her violent death.

Afterward, Sammy wonders if he will ever love another girl again. His mother died years earlier, and over the next year, Sammy endures more losses—a neighbor’s husband, a best friend drafted and then killed in Vietnam, another friend dead of a heroin overdose, two gay classmates brutally beaten and then driven out of town by bigoted whites. Along with the troubles, however, comes Sammy’s political awakening, when he and his friends campaign for a change in student government, organize a strike against strict dress codes, and pass out armbands against the war. These struggles give Sammy and his friends a sense of hope and purpose and bring him closer to his father as well.

Sáenz is an acclaimed poet, and his story sings in the language of young people who move effortlessly between English and Spanish and use both languages to understand their world. The emotions expressed are honest and powerful—true to the characters’ culture and time period, yet so deeply felt that teenagers of all backgrounds today can identify themselves and their friends in the unforgettable cast. There are many priceless moments when the teens stand up to authority figures, showing that resistance is possible and hope exists in the bleakest of circumstances. One of the most memorable is when Sammy, five weeks from graduation, stands up to a dictatorial school administrator, Colonel Wright, who tries to shut down the student protest against the war on Vietnam:

He grabbed my arm. I hated the warmth of his hand. “Pifas is dead,” I said. And he let go of me. He knew who I was talking about. He’d read it in the newspaper, he’d seen a picture of Pifas’ mother kissing his coffin, clutching a flag—clutching a flag instead of clutching a son. God. “Epifánio Jose Espinosa was killed in action. In Viet Nam. Epifánio. They brought him home. Not all of him, Colonel. They couldn’t find his hands. Blown clean off. His hands, Colonel, they stayed in Nam. His hands stayed there, Colonel. Say it. Goddammit! Say his name for me.” He grabbed my arm again and started dragging me toward the office. But I wasn’t going to let him. I pulled away from him. I was stronger. He knew I was stronger. “Epifánio,” I said. “His name meant epiphany. It’s what happens at the end of a story or poem when something is revealed. It means we’ve learned something.”

As I reread sections to finish up this review, I am in tears. Sammy & Juliana in Hollywood is that strong, that good. Highly recommended.

Lyn Miller-Lachmann
(published 3/26/14)

Grandma Fina And Her Wonderful Umbrellas / La Abuelita Fina y sus sombrillas maravillosas


author: Benjamin Alire Sáenz 
translator: Pilar Herrera
illustrator: Geronimo García
Cinco Puntos Press, 1999
preschool-up 
Mexican American

Grandma Fina just loves her tattered old yellow umbrella that keeps her cool on warm sunny days. As she walks through the community and chats with each of her neighbors, no one says anything about Grandma Fina’s umbrella because no one wants to hurt her feelings. But everyone’s thinking the same thing. Then, when her relatives and neighbors throw her a surprise birthday celebration, Grandma Fina receives—nine new umbrellas! Still favoring her old yellow umbrella, Grandma Fina takes the others to the community center and gifts them to her friends. 

Garcia’s cartoon illustrations, on a bright palette of mostly purples, greens, oranges and yellows, complement the story and add to its hilarity. And young readers and listeners will enjoy matching the umbrellas to their respective donors and trying to find the bluebird on practically every other page.

Herrera’s idiomatic Spanish translation follows the English text in simplicity, repetition and rhythm; allowing both hablantes and English speakers to enjoy the story. Each two-page spread contains blocks of English text in black print and Spanish in green. On two pages in the predominantly English blocks where Grandma Fina talks with her daughter, their endearments are appropriately in Spanish, the translation of which can be inferred.

As a read-aloud, this solid bilingual early reader—with its predictable plot and hilarious ending—will encourage youngsters to explore colors, friendships, relationships, neighbors, the meaning of “community,” and a host of other topics. I can see a teacher stopping every few seconds so that the children can yell, “Wonderful!” or “¡Maravilloso!”—the word that connects the ebullient Grandma Fina with the story and each of her neighbors.

In a society in which the mass media portray everything as disposable and old people as useless as torn umbrellas, Grandma Fina And Her Wonderful Umbrellas / La Abuelita Fina y sus sombrillas maravillosas is a refreshing replacement. Highly recommended.

—María Cárdenas
(published 3/20/14)

Dog Who Loved Tortillas/ La perrita que le encantaba las tortillas


author: Benjamin Alire Sáenz
illustrator: Geronimo García
Cinco Puntos Press, 2009
grades 2-up
Mexican, Mexican American

When Dieguito and his older sister, Gabriela, each see a dog and its owner having a good time, both decide they really, really want a dog. The sibling rivalry begins when Dieguito goes to his parents to ask for a puppy. Gabriela hears him and flies out of her room shouting, “No fair! I want a dog, too!” After listening to the children arguing about why one should have a dog and not the other, their parents decide that the two can have one dog—to share. When the rival siblings realize it’s one dog or no dogs they agree; but each thinks that the new dog will be more his or hers anyway.

The family visits the Humane Society, where both children decide they want a white puppy with brown spots. When Gabriela chooses a cute girl puppy, Dieguito, who originally wanted a boy puppy, falls in love with her and names her Sofie. 

They take Sofie home, where Dieguito and Gabriela learn to care for her and train her, using pieces of warm tortilla, which she loves. One day, Sofie gets very, very ill and, as the children sleep by her side—and comfort each other—they realize that Sophie is “our dog.”

García’s molded clay art, in muted, natural colors—and bright backgrounds that enhance, rather than obfuscate the clay figures—is gorgeous; I especially love the picture where Gabriela and Dieguito are sleeping with Sofie between them. The Spanish text is idiomatic and excellent, and Spanish words within the English are realistically presented. For example, when Gabriela encounters the shelter dogs, she says, “Pobrecitos…I feel sorry for them.”

I’m pleased that the family adopts their puppy from a shelter, rather than purchasing one from a pet store or breeder. As such, this is a wonderful story to use in a classroom discussion about adopting and caring for pets, relationships with pets, and, of course, sibling rivalry.

However, as a parent and an advocate for animals, I would like to have seen a family discussion—before adoption—about the responsibility required to care for a pet. Here, Dieguito and Gabriela successfully learn about caring for Sofie after they adopt her and, unfortunately, this is not often the case. Many animals are purchased or adopted impulsively and soon returned or abandoned because their new owners haven’t thought through the kind of work involved in bringing in a new family member.

Nevertheless, The Dog Who Loved Tortillas / La perrita que le encantaba las tortillas can be supplemented with non-fiction books about the care of pets and the commitment one must make before getting a pet, and is highly recommended.

—María Cárdenas
(published 2/11/14)

Gift from Papá Diego / Un regalo de Papá Diego


author: Benjamin Alire Sáenz
illustrator: Geronimo García
Cinco Puntos Press, 2010
grades 3-up
Mexican, Mexican American

Dieguito is missing his Papá Diego a lot. He wants to see his grandfather and he doesn’t understand the concept of far away—“if I could see my Papá Diego every day, …then every day would be as perfect as a sky full of summer clouds.” Dieguito’s father tells him that Mexico is far away, that it’s Papá Diego’s home and that he wouldn’t be happy in El Paso.

When, for his birthday, Dieguito receives the Superman suit he had wanted, he finds that he is unable to fly to see his Papá Diego. Upset, he refuses dinner, including champurado, which, he is told, helps him speak Spanish and feel warm inside. When he finally comes down—to his surprise and joy—Papá Diego has arrived!

García’s molded clay art, in muted, natural colors, is gorgeous; with brightly colored backgrounds that enhance, rather than obfuscate, the clay figures. Here is Dieguito, excitedly watching his mother in the kitchen, fixing chiles relleños. Here is Dieguito’s sister, taunting him. Here is Dieguito’s father, telling Dieguito the story of the day he was born.

The Spanish text, which I read first, is idiomatic and wonderful. For example, Papá Diego tells Dieguito (in English), “Tonight Chihuahua is not so far, and I do not feel so old, and it was very easy to cross the border. The border is nothing for people who love.” And in Spanish, “Esta noche Chihuahua no está tan lejos y no me siento tan viejo y no fué tan difícil cruzar la frontera. Una frontera no es nada para los que se aman.”

In this story, Mexico is about where Papá Diego’s home is, but El Paso is Dieguito’s immediate family’s home as well.

When we think of borders, we generally think of physical lines, but the reality is that they are often political and economic borders that divide families. In reality, many, many children are taken from their parents and parents are taken from their children. Children—born here or there—feel the loss of their relatives on the other side, and fear the breakup of their families.

We don’t know why part of Dieguito’s family members came to the US and some stayed in Mexico; it seems to have been an economic decision. We also don’t know whether or not the family has documents. Nevertheless, this story lends itself to a rich discussion of the migrant and immigrant experiences of separated families, and can be supplemented by other stories, such as Jorje Argueta’s beautiful Alfredito Flies Home. A Gift from Papá Diego / Un regalo de Papá Diego is highly recommended.

—María Cárdenas
(published 1/16/14)