Most of the poems were an expression of the long lines of heritage we contain and not allowing anyone (including ourselves) to deny them. As the title indicates, sometimes we’re quite a complicated mix. This book is about relationships, especially ties to women, although there are a couple of poems to men and a couple about her son. There are tributes to Angela Davis, Zora Neal Hurston, and Margaret Atwood, acknowledgement of literary ancestors as well as genetic ones.
This is highly accessible poetry that invites one to think about one’s own connections and influences: relations, mentors, icons. This would make a great summer reading book. There is some experimentation but it remains very readable throughout. While it deals with some difficult topics, it doesn’t dwell on them. There is loss but it is expressed more as remembrance and spiritual connection than as grief. Overall, I found this an enjoyable, interesting, and quick read. It was a bit of summer for me reading it in winter.
Poetry Hierarchies
As I mentioned at the start, people who enjoy the poetry of Sandra Cisneros and Maya Angelou will likely enjoy this. This association with Cisneros and Angelou, and being asked to give this book a star rating on a couple of platforms, forced me to mull poetry hierarchies and snobbery.
I am a poetry snob of a middling sort--but definitely a snob. I think anyone who spends a lot of time sorting through lots of anything they enjoy and thinking about what works for them, what they consider quality and what others consider quality and how that differs, especially as a result of training and experience, locate themselves on a spectrum for that interest. No one wants to be on the bottom for any length of time unless it's something you don't really care about.
Categorizing Black Mestiza challenges the borders of my snobbery and makes me question, not for the first time, why there are boundaries that are hierarchical instead of a matter of kind, each kind having its own form of excellence. But, like anything else, especially regarding art, poetry doesn't fit nicely into categories, regardless of how one frames the category.
So when I say the poetry of Aldana is similar to Cisneros and Angelou, I mean that it is accessible and has a similar focus on racial and cultural identity and empowerment. There's nothing wrong with that. It also implies the possibility of widespread interest. But that's false. From a cursory look at Angelou's poetry books currently on Amazon, only one was published by a small press, that being Virago. The others were published by Ballantine, Random House, and Bantam (x2). Cisneros's books have all been published by Vintage. Those are mainstream publishers--because Angelou and Cisneros made their names in prose writing. Aldana's book is published by the University of Kentucky, which is to say it has been given an academic stamp of approval and thus has a reputation to uphold in that regard and also that its chances of reaching a wide audience are virtually nil. It's a matter of economics. Mainstream publishers have more money to put into their books and author promotion.
There's also a way in which comparing Aldana to Cisneros and Angelou isn't complimentary. Neither Angelou nor Cisneros were embraced academically, Cisneros more than Angelou, but neither for their poetry. Does that mean their poetry is "bad"? What does it mean that scholars ignore your poetry and think it of no interest? It means that it lacks subtlety, intellectual depth, beauty and sophistication of diction, novelty or innovation of form, original thought. But there's a lot of respected, canonical poetry and non-canonical poetry by canonical poets that lacks those things and pander instead to delight. "Whenas in silks my Julia goes...."
I think Cisneros and Angelou are less trying to impress than they are to connect. They're not playing with an artistic medium so much as using it to hold what they want to express, not just to express but to broadcast. That is its own skill and should be valued. Angelou in particular strikes me as someone who broadcasts. And thank heavens she did. She made the world a richer place. Her poems "And Still I Rise" and "Phenomenal Woman" are justly iconic.
The truth is nothing in Black Mestiza is going to become a wildly famous poem, either academically or within the larger populace. She shows more formal experimentation than either Cisneros or Angelou and yet I don't think the experimentation would put off a novice to reading poetry. So Aldana's poetry simultaneously shows more stylistic sophistication than the other two women's while having less punch.
So I have to accept the discomfort of saying what I believe to be true, that readers of Cisneros and Angelou will enjoy Black Mestiza. It's the best way I can target readers who would enjoy this book. Yet I'm aware of the ways it's a compliment and not a compliment.
Rating Black Mestiza
How do I rate a book which dangles between more academic poetry and poetry just wanting to present an experience and connect? Angelou and Cisneros for me have been 3 start poets (I have yet to read Cisneros's latest book). Black Mestiza lacks the beauty of language or the depth of many of my 4 star ratings. In the end, I gave her marks for a pleasant and interesting read and gave her the 4 star rating. Did I "lower my standards" by giving her a 4 star rating? If I can give a book of Gwendolyn Brooks' poetry 4 stars and Black Mestiza 4 stars, it certainly proves that I'm conflicted about my 4 star ratings. And perhaps I expect too much of 5 star ratings.
For years I avoided the rating of poetry books for just this reason. I'm a middling poetry snob, which means there are things all over the spectrum that I like. And yet now that I am forcing myself to rate books I see how lazy I've been about defining for myself what I consider good. And I'm having to face the difference between what I consider good and what is recommendable. Book ratings on platforms is less as an indicator of high quality than a indicator of whether I think others will enjoy a book--whether I would recommend it. These two things are frequently at odds. I was engrossed in To 2040 by Jorie Graham. I gave it 5 stars. Would I recommend it to most people? No. With some books, there is no conflict between what I consider the consider high quality and high recommendability.
Maybe I need to create a rubric for myself for books I find difficult to rate. What would it include?
How broadly relatable is the book?
How accessible is the book?
What is the quality of the writing (according to me)? <<what does this even mean to me?
What is the level of my affinity with either the poetics or the topics?
Did the book keep me engaged from beginning to end?
I'll have to give it more thought. Are there more qualities to consider? Should some of these have possible negative values? Certainly I should weight some of these categories according to how important they are to me.
Does it ultimately matter whether I give a book an "accurate" (according to me) star rating? No. Not at all. But thinking about it, and perhaps coming up with a rubric, will hopefully result in less teeth-grinding.
And why do I want to participate in this stifling star rating stuff anyway? Because it's a way to indicate to the world that poetry is being read and some people like it. As I've been going through the prize-nominated books, I've been shocked sometimes with how little interest there is in them on Amazon, which is still one of the most accessible places to find lots of poetry. You can be long or short listed for a poetry prize and still be ignored. What chance does Black Mestiza have? I want people to know someone saw it, someone read it, and it was an enjoyable book
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