Saturday, July 6, 2013

Review of "A Place to Stand"




                                              I drew kindness from the silence of the prairie at noon and the
                                              streams trickling between rocks and through canyons where I roamed;
                                             from the birds that crowded fence lines, the horses I stopped to pet along
                                             the road, the dogs that trailed me. In the same way that nature broke
                                             down leaves and stones, it broke down the hardness in my heart.  
                                                                                                                                                (p. 104)
 

Jimmy Santiago Baca is a renowned Chicano poet from New Mexico who has garnered much critical acclaim during the past few decades. In addition to his poetry, he has also written novels, and his works detail the experiences of someone who has come from difficult circumstances, finding a unique expressive voice that savors the beauty of language. This is the case with his autobiographic novel A Place to Stand, a work that that is as much a denunciation of the penal system as an affirmation of the ability of art to redeem.


As indicated before, Baca’s formative experiences were hardly promising. He begins by describing a visit to see his father in a prison cell, having been jailed for public drunkenness. We quickly are able to ascertain that this episode serves as the cautionary prelude to what will befall the author, who eventually will end up in a similar place. But what is different is that both his mother and his father came from stable if very different families, and despite their early marriage that forced them to drop out of school in their teen years, had benefited from their years in high school. Baca will have no such favorable circumstances.

The conflicts that tear apart this family are those that are unique to communities who come from historically disadvantaged communities. In this case, there is the fact of discrimination, one that is felt most strongly by his father, who is of darker appearance. He is acutely aware of how his parents are treated, and it leads the author to feel a sort of anxiety that will be more than confirmed by his subsequent experiences, as he relates how he and his brother were evaluated in the most humiliating manner while interred in the Catholic Boys’ Home, never able to measure up to the expectations of prospective adoptive parents: “Our hair, our color, our speech—everything is wrong about us. She asks me how I feel and other personal questions, and I respond with shrugs, not really caring about anything.” (p. 174)

There is a common thread in the early childhood experiences narrated by Baca. This has to do with the inability to find a stable home, that “place to stand” that he can affirm as his own. After his parents separate, he is shuttled off to live with his grandparents, an experience that he recalls as idyllic but as all too short. He will not attend school on a regular basis, an action that is somehow condoned by his grandparents who prefer to have their grandchildren at home, and I can’t help but wonder if it is motivated as well by a long historical memory of how these institutions have failed children who come from an ethnic background. There are, of course, other issues that underlie the experiences of the author, and if they don’t occupy center stage to the drama of institutional neglect and lack of guidance and stability, they nonetheless are present.

A sense of abandonment seems to permeate Baca’s narrative, and like the desolate landscapes of the small New Mexico pueblos, he is unable to find a proper direction. There is, of course, a strong community ethos in these pueblos, because there is a strong tradition that unites families that have lived in this area for hundreds of years. But there is, also, the case that there is a process of displacement , one motivated not only by economic transformation and the arrival of new industries and new interlopers from adjoining states, but also, by the fact that there is as always a tension between what is considered traditional and modern.

His parents where, to all appearances, very modern. His father was a popular high school athlete, and his mother a cheerleader. A narrative undercurrent that seems to permeate this work is that his parents succumbed to a few of these pressures, and were tempted by modernity and the promise of self-transformation. What is evident is that Baca seems to celebrate a community ethos but he perceives it as being under threat, and the happiness of his parents as young adolescents aspiring to achieve a middle-class lifestyle and fulfillment is also one that is tempted by consumer culture and the breakdown in family stability. It is as if his parents were to be considered victims of a type of biblical fall, a temptation that will follow their descendants (Jimmy, his brother Mieyo and his sister) as a curse. His father will not be able to fulfill the promises of such a transformation (politics is the ultimate medium for expressing this), and his mother will also abandon him, setting the pattern for subsequent displacement and loss that will characterize their lives.

There will come a period in which the author will be shuffled from one institution to another, from a Catholic Charity house, St. Anthony’s Boys’ Home, to a state boarding institution. He will, of course, always yearn desperately for family unification, but will know full well the rejection that he has experienced, not only by his mother who has abandoned him, but by his extended family members, by aunts and uncles that seem distant, and by the unfortunate death of his grandfather. He lacks the ability, as well, to give expression to anything other than his anger, for without the example of bonds of affection, his life will be consumed by fear and by a defensiveness that will give way to unconscious acts of violence that will sabotage him throughout his early life. Intimacy eludes him, and instead, he acts out by becoming an adept street brawler, and by immersing himself in a life of petty crime.

After another short interlude in another idyllic setting (this time, not the household of his grandparents on the plains of New Mexico but in San Diego, CA), he is able to form relationships that would appear to represent a breakthrough. Unlike his frustrating relationship with Theresa, the New Mexico girlfriend who was as distant as a mountaintop but who obsessed him nonetheless, perhaps with the beauty of an impossible ideal or because she was the analogue to his mother who had a similar effect on his father (he is in many ways recapitulating those experiences, and the desperate search for cohesion and a sense of belonging), he is able to start a relationship with another woman who seems much more responsive. He is, as always, trying to reestablish that family circle that he lost as a child, and his “brother”, in this case, is a Michigan transplant by the name of Marcos. The memoir is predicated on encounters such as this one, on periods of intimacy that never last, because he isn’t able to overcome the fear that lies below the surface, a fear that expresses itself in blind rage and acts of violence.

The most dreadful experiences still await him, and in a way, they were foreshadowed from the very beginning, for as noted above, one of his earliest memories of his father involved a visit to see him in jail. Jimmy was also institutionalized as a child, and tried to run away repeatedly, but always returned. He came to prefer these places, as uncomfortable and threatening as they were, because these institutionalized spaces perhaps represented an element of regularity in his life, places that substituted for the comfort and family stability that he lacked otherwise. As much as he ran and tried to escape, he always carried his fear with him, and this mindset was also confining and delimiting. It led him to have several encounters with authorities, culminating as they did in his conviction for distributing narcotics while live in Arizona.

At this point, the full weight of his experiences hit him, and we enter into a new phase of this novel, one with a reformist agenda. The prison system, of course, is one that no longer offers opportunity for rehabilitation, and instead, is predicated only on an escalating dynamic of punishment and control. He has been sentenced to five years in prison, and he meets many others who mirror his own experiences. They are the dispossessed of society, the ethnic and economic underclass, Chicanos in the majority but also African-Americans and members of other races, who have in a sense been doomed to incarceration because of unfavorable family circumstances and because they haven’t been afforded the opportunities that others have had. In this case, while I recognize that there are many valid points to this argument of institutional exclusion, I would have to also question whether it doesn’t also skirt responsibility for individual choices. While Jimmy seems to be suggesting that he needed to sell drugs in order to earn the money to buy a contractor’s license, it seems to me that his judgment was also clouded, and that even if he couldn’t stop selling drugs because it would invite reprisal from his suppliers, he seems as if he did suffer from tunnel vision.

What follows is the narrative of a terrible and dehumanizing experience in the prison correctional system of New Mexico. It is a narrative that represents a logical conclusion to his story of abandonment and victimization, because in this environment, life is predicated on withstanding a series of perpetual threats and learning how to navigate a society that encapsulates the worst excesses of predatory conduct. it isn't only that the prison guards abuse and humiliate them continually, it is the fact that so many inmates lose hope and choose to victimize, threaten and punish each other. In this environment everyone seems to be armed with prohibited items, and there is a code of conflict resolution that relies on instant retribution. There is no possibility for him to reform his spirit, and as he is punished by being banished to successive cells that are all the more brutalizing for the isolation they impose, he discovers hope. It resides in art.

He narrates, then, how in his darkest moments he learns how to read and write, undertaking a correspondence with a good Samaritan who has sent him a letter. Literacy opens up new landscapes, and it is in this discovery, which is slow and gradual, that he comes to orient himself and to gain a measure of open ground in a space that would otherwise deny it to him. This is not to say that he can transcend his circumstances, but it is evident that the development of a poet’s mentality allows him to break that barrier of communication that he had only been able to do seldomly before, with his friend Marcos, with his girlfriend Lonnie, with that cousin from childhood with whom he played so freely, not having to wonder if he was being judged as somehow different or other. It all comes to the fore in another of a continuing series of confrontations with prisoners, this time with his cellmate Boxer, who he attacks and is in a position to kill:

 

                                While the desire to murder him was strong, so were the voices of Neruda and  
                                Lorca that  passed through my mind, praising life as sacred and challenging me.
                               How can you kill and still be a poet? How can you ever write another poem if you
                              disrespect life in this manner? Do you know you will forever be changed by this
                              act? It will haunt you to your dying breath.
                               (p. 206)

The poet is making the slow climb out of the depths, and is finding a new rationale for being, a new pursuit that will open up new vistas for him, allowing him to claim that peaceful mental landscape he had described before when he talked about rural New Mexico. It is a respect for life and, particularly, for his own life and experiences, for the relationships he cherishes and seeks to make whole, even when they were damaged through no particular fault of his own. Ironically, this awareness is tinged by pathos, because he will lose his father, his mother and his brother, the first dying of alcoholism without ever having been able to reclaim his wife, his mother being killed by a furious husband who refuses to consent to a divorce, and his brother Mieyo to drug abuse and the depredations of criminals on the street, being found with his skull crushed in an alley in Florida.

But he has found and been reaffirmed by his relationship with others in prison. He found this sense of bonding and protective concern in Macaron, an older prisoner who lived in the adjoining cell, and who counseled him on how to survive, and who served as one of his most honest critics, and who cautioned him against assuming a voice that wasn’t his:

                                He had a critic’s instinct for knowing a good poem; this talent came from his
                               motto: NEVER BACK UP. He had put his life on the line so many times that he had
                               an uncanny sense of what’s real and what’s not. There was no room for academic
                              foreplay or pretentiousness. His convictions came by standing his ground in the
                              trenches, face-to-face, chest-to-chest, and eye-to-eye with the enemy.
                             (p. 249)

They came as well from his interactions and friendship with another Chicano convict, one who went by the name of Chelo and who was tattooed from head to toe with symbols that together constituted a narrative of survival, a language that he related to Jimmy:

                              I wear my culture on my skin. They want to make me forget who I
                              am,  the beauty of my people and my heritage, but to do it they got to
                              peel my skin off. And if they ever do that, they’ll kill me doing it—and
                              that’s good, because once they make you forget the language and history,
                              they’ve killed you anyway. I’m alive and free, no matter how many bars
                              they put me behind.
                              (pp. 223-224)

And, sadly, in the senseless violence and sacrifice of convicts such as Mask (Mascara), who when Jimmy was feeling despair at having his release date postponed and wishes to engage in a retaliatory strike against another inmate, commits the act of violence himself, saving Jimmy the penalty of having to have an extended sentence imposed upon him. (What is troubling is not that Mask would undertake this action, but that neither one, neither he nor Jimmy, expresses any remorse about knifing another inmate and possible killing him, thus rendering grotesque an act of charity and supposed fellowship and showing the long stretch that the author will have to walk in order to heal himself.)

But he will be released, eventually, and he will be able to undertake a new career, fashioning himself as a poet and eventually starting a family when he moves back to New Mexico after a sojourn in the South. He will manage to reclaim his family, teaching his mother the Spanish that he picked up in fellowship with other inmates, and reclaiming a heritage that will represent a new beginning. It is fitting that he will finally be able to stop running, so to speak, and this book represents a document that seeks to draw attention to those he left behind, those whose lives are wasted in despair and acts of violence, but who nonetheless are crying out for hope. This helps us to understand this novel as constituting as much a personal autobiography and a narrative of authorial awakening, but also as a social document:

                                My job was to witness and record the ‘it” of their lives, to celebrate those who
                               don’t have a place in this world to stand and call home. For these people, my
                               journals, poems, and writings are home. My pen and heart chronicle their hopes,
                              doubts, regrets, loves, despairs, and dreams. I do this partly out of selfishness,
                              because it helps to heal my own impermanence, my own despair. My role as
                              witness is to give voice to the voiceless and hope to the hopeless, of which I am
                              one.
                             (p. 244)

Perhaps this will allow him to close the circle and expand the reach of what is understood as family, to encapsulate a social role for the writer, akin to that of the poets he had mentioned before, Neruda and Lorca.



OGRomero © 2013
(Copyrighted by OGRomero, 2013)

No comments:

Post a Comment