Whale Road Review
A Journal of Poetry & Short Prose
Let’s Face the Four Directions Together
Cry, Howl by Edward Vidaurre
Prickly Pear Publishing, 2022
Edward Vidaurre’s Cry, Howl opens with the familiar moment of riding the bus each morning. Through self-reflection, Vidaurre turns these split-second blips into important instances of seeing our own humanity. In the poem, “Reading on the RTD, 1991-1993,” the speaker states:
Before I had a car
I read on the bus to and from work
I read Black Boy and Native Son
I read Invisible Man and Always Running […]
I read the eyes of the drunk and heartbroken
I read their shoes for their travels and aches
I read their breath, the long sighs and whispers
I read on the RTD bus line
& now… I will write about it.
In a full circle moment, the speaker’s self-reflection is full self-awareness for the people and literature that have shaped his narrative. It is a reminder that inspiration is possible in every moment. In an instance of self-referencing, the poem mentions itself and the journey the reader will take with each poem.
Vidaurre composes a poignant look into both the everyday and the earth-shattering moments of life. Cry, Howl is a bridge over the void left by discrepancies in political representations, immigration, language, and healthcare, among others, that the world has grappled with over the past few years.
In a melding and bridging of language, readers can enjoy several profound poems translated into Spanish as well as several poems that include stanzas in Spanish. In “Through the Fence for all immigrants,” the speaker states:
I offer these medicine poems
I gather this sage for you poems
Teach me to pray the rosary poems
Let’s face the four directions together poems.
In Spanish, translated by Gabriella Gutiérrez y Muhs:
Ofrezco estos poemas como remedios
Poemas recojo esta sabia para ustedes
Poemas ensén͂enme a rezar el rosario
Poemas enfrentemos a las cuatro direcciones juntos.
Whether a reader enjoys the poem in Spanish or English or both, they can be certain that the poem’s speaker is fully aware of the power poetry holds. As stated in “Through the Fence for all immigrants,” poems, as a type of religious or cultural offering, span the beautifully diverse makeup of humanity and language. It is as if, through the bilingual nature of the poems, the poems become self-aware of their power to represent and reflect the world. The collection in both English and Spanish encourages exploration and creativity to produce honesty through language.
To insist or boil down Cry, Howl to a singular poetic style or theme would be an injustice to a richly deep and plentiful collection which discusses the prevalent divides within our country and offers solutions of dignity and respect. The connecting factor in each poem is meaningful language and the varied, individual meaning poetry can create for each reader.
It is best to allow Vidaurre himself to explain the power of language and the power of poetry. Vidaurre writes:
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ
Use these letters to tell your truth
Use these letters to tell your angst
Use them to change this world.
Do as Vidaurre suggests and use these humble letters in any language to cry, gasp, shout, exclaim, state, and even howl your unique truth into the universe.
–
Sara Pisak is a reviewer, essayist, and poet. Sara has published work in The Rumpus, Hippocampus, The Deaf Poets Society, Door is a Jar, Five:2:One Magazine, and Appalachian Journal, among others. In total, she has published over 100 pieces. When not writing, Sara spends time with her family and friends.
Selena Sings Her Way Onto Netflix
-Texas Highways-
The show, Selena: The Series, debuts Dec. 4 and delves into the love and perseverance of the family behind the Queen of Tejano
Written by:
Photos by:
Courtesy Netflix
Published: December 3, 2020 at 5:52 pm
I Took My Barrio on a Road Trip
Edward Vidaurre is one the driving forces behind the explosion of poetic and literary art coming out of Texas' Rio Grande Valley region in recent years. This collection, published by Slough Press, offers a very personal and dynamic glimpse into the journey that brought both Edward's poetry and his person to this point.
"I Took My Barrio on a Road Trip" is a tale of soul always searching; it is a story of a man that has found a home. It is a tale of a culture that exists anywhere you take your heart and your history. It looks to the future and it seeks to define itself in the ever-ending present.
I am not Chicano, but I have a brother in the pieces "Summer in El Salvador" and "The Bullet of '91". I did not grow up in the housing projects of Los Angeles , yet I share in the story of "Her Name was Maria".
These poems each stand on their own merit and under their own power, but when taken together, this book becomes something greater than the sum of its parts. Divided into three, roughly chronological sections, exploring this collection leaves the reader with the feeling of having gotten to know a new friend, someone that CAN understand, because he HAS lived. Edward Vidaurre invites us all along as fellow travelers, knowing very well that we all are here to share the best and the worst life has to give us.
Buy this book of poetry, and if your travels every bring you to deep South Texas, do what you can to see Edward Vidaurre read, I promise, you will find a friend.”
-PW Covington, author of The Motor Hotels of Central Avenue, North Beach and Other Stories, and Sacred Wounds
“The movement of Edward Vidaurre’s debut poetry collection from El Salvador, to Southern California, to the Rio Grand Valley of Texas is inviting and vibrant. The poems selected to represent each region emulate the unique textures, flavors, cultures, and experiences each chapter of his life’s journey.
With imagery rich and language authentic, Vidaurre pulls no punches to bring the reader with him through each poem. “I Took my Barrio on a Road Trip” is a feast for the senses from mouth-watering lines from the kitchen of his abuelita, to the heart-stopping phrases of, “The Bullet of ’91,” to the troubling cacophony in “Bath Time, to the rending ache of, “Wounds of a Woman,” to the coarse truth of, “Friends.”
“I Took my Barrio on a Road Trip,” is an unapologetic introduction to an unflinching poet. His writing is raw, visceral, and cuts straight to the quick. Vidaurre reveals tender vulnerability with such literary strength the reader is left with only admiration, no trace of pity. A fantastic read and inspiring journey. I'll be keeping an eye out for more work from this poet!”
-Jennifer Alumbaugh
“I'd so far read all the poetry collections by Edward Vidaurre …except his debut volume. Now that I've finished it, I can say this might actually be the best among those works! The entries here -- all in English, peppered with formal and colloquial Spanish -- are divided under the subject headings of "Guanaco," "Chicano" and "Tejano," delineating the poet's life journey successively from El Salvador to California to South TX.
With minimalist flair, I was given glimpses of relatives, marketplaces & guerrillas in a Central American country seemingly isolated and dominated by poverty and rifles; my favorite is "Summer in El Salvador" (beautiful, yet frightening and incredibly sad). I also joined in the author's reminiscing on a youth spent in housing projects that used to exist in Los Angeles, in an environment of squalor and gang violence.
It's curious how those poems affected me far more than the "Tejano" entries (considering I’m a South Texas native), but my favorite of the latter entries might be "No Uvas," which fittingly begins with a quote from Cesar Chavez. "Zombies" has some surprising interpretations on its title. "What I Want" made me burst out laughing at one point (re: church attendance). "Rapture of 2011" is an ironic look at a nearly forgotten day of a failed prediction.”
- Raul Martinez
Praise for Pandemia & Other Poems
PANDEMIA & other poems, is a road map of sorts, the poet lets us in on his dreams that offer hope, and his questions about the future gives us all places to start coming up with answers. I highly recommend you take time to savor this poet-seers verses. Ase O!
– Odilia Galván Rodríguez, author of The Color of Light, and co-editor of Poetry of Resistance Voices for Social Justice.
"Pandemia & Other Poems is a new scripture for the plague years. Unabashedly bi-lingual and pan-cultural, a creation myth in the face of destruction, a seed of renacimiento in our charred Garden."
-Luis Alberto Urrea, author of The Hummingbird’s Daughter
"Pandemia & Other Poems is the book we need right now. Edward Vidaurre’s tender, wise, jazz-singer words rise up and speak for this pandemic period when we realize our lungs connect us—and our stories and our songs."
-Sheila Black, author of Iron, Ardent
“Edward Vidaurre, tiene corazón, he cares, he is compassionate, he embraces the life we are all living at this time. He dares to move with hope, dreams and this prism in your hands — he sees and “works through the ghostly streets of uncertainty.” Enter his word streets, his pioneering stepping poems — Jazz poetry, the homeless, Covid -19, Black Lives Matter, GenZ, his inner lives, and his walking with all of our lives. This is the book to keep close to your heart. Libro Bravo, Corazón of love.”
-Juan Felipe Herrera, U.S. Poet Laureate, Emeritus
Edward Vidaurre's Pandemia is not only a book about the effects of living through a pandemic—it is a complex volume that raises universal questions. From the outset, with the poem "Creation" that begins this powerful collection, " Vidaurre links historical and religious subjects to matters close at hand, as he does in "Jazzista," "when everything around you seems to be dying," and when, as in "Day Six," "Books shake on the shelves." "Nothing is the same, yet nothing has changed," the poem continues.
And yet, the poet asserts in "Images," "The pandemic gave me a chance to see the wind and its curves and laces as she glides through me."
Later poems in this gripping book touch on subjects dealing with childhood, with nightmares, and existential fears, as in "The Aftershock": "Tell me, how does it feel to survive when everything else dies?" Fury erupts finally in "Last Breath," as "Fire translates to 'I can't breathe'" and "Looting translates to 'I can't breathe.'" The poem continues: "Screaming, the language of the unheard / America has put people of color on mute / for too long, for that long, a long time ago."
Though these poems are never shrill, they slice through our uncomfortable silences with sharp, cleansing words that cut through the complexities and agonies of our time, words that lead to a deep healing.
-Wendy Barker, author of Gloss