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In addition, read as a whole thematically, this anthology can be seen as similar to the sort of artistic coming-of-age novels such as Hermann Hesse's Peter Camenzind. The key turning point in this development may be the story "Little Miracles, Kept Promises," which is a series of letters left at the shrine of La Virgin de Guadelupe. This reveals the many layers of the shrine, which is the site of an old Aztec goddess with whom Cisneros identified, and who allows for a new revelation of feminine power in the Mexican heritage which comes out for the rest of the work.
However you choose to read it, this is a collection which will both delight and challenge all who come prepared.


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The book is mainly in English, but peppered with Spanish words and phrases; there is one poem entirely in Spanish ("Amorcito Corazon"). Cisneros writes about love, womanhood, Latina identity, and creativity.
Some of my favorite selections from "Loose Woman": "You Bring Out the Mexican in Me," a Whitmanesque celebration of both the speaker's lover and of her own ethnic identity; "Dulzura," with the memorable opening line "Make love to me in Spanish"; "Down There," which celebrates menstruation with vibrantly graphic language; and the title poem, in which the speaker declares "I break laws, / upset the natural order."
The book is throughout spiced with a colorful medley of multicultural references: Dolores del Rio, Nebuchadnezzar, Mohammed, Houdini, the gargoyles of Notre Dame, Sir Walter Raleigh, Marilyn Monroe, etc. Cisneros' language is often raw and sexual, sometimes playfully elegant; I loved her phrase "the origami of the brain" (from "Night Madness Poem"). Definitely a worthwhile collection of poetry from an intriguing Latina voice.

For their originality and fire, I recommend this volume of poetry by the brave and thundering Sandra Cisneros.







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Sandra Cisneros's distinctive and poetic voice rings out in all the music of the Spanish language with which this book is so liberally seasoned. She tells her 'cuenta' through many, many, many very short chapters, each of which is usually a little family anecdote that, strung together like the beads of a rosary, form a loop that completes this tale of history and mystery, of love and jealousy, of sin and forgiveness - and most of all of joy and celebration.
Caramelo, titled in honor of an unfinished striped antique rebozo (shawl) in which the fringe is partially unknotted, is a beautiful offering for Cisneros fans, like a platter of colorful tropical fruits.

Sandra Cisneros, in her first collection of poems "My Wicked Wicked Ways" was able to evoke this sense of drama repeatedly in her monologues of fictional characters and in songs which seemed to be sung by the poet herself about her life. My personal favourite "Something Crazy" illustrates the necessary conditions of the form:
The man with the blue hat
doesn't come back anymore.
He stopped a long time ago.
Before I got married. Before the kids came.
Nobody looks at me like that anymore.
...
I was young then, understand?
Nobody ever looked at me before.
I even dreamed that he might take me
to my highschool dance, imagine.
Waitresses have come and gone,
I've stayed on.
The speaker is stationary, in the restaurant where she works- the man in the blue hat is already a thing of the past when the poem opens. She loves him because he is the ONLY thing that ever came along that loved her or that she could love. In its tone and perfection this poem reminds one of the torch-song as perfected by Billy Holiday. As in that genre the speaker stands alone and sings of a love, an overwhelming passion, almost always in the past. What is present is the pain- and the understatement of the pain and the ability through an embrace of the nostalgia of love to transcend it for a moment in a reach for remembered happiness, and recalled warmth despite the present cold. This is the tension of the genre. The speaker is pinned, unable to leave their grief, but attempts to transcend it in a song.
It is the formula, arguably, of any powerful dramatic song or poem- the speaker in pain. But the formula always depends upon the absence of a choice- these people are dramatic because fate has placed them where they are and they could not, whether they wish to or not, be anywhere else.
The title poem of "My Wicked Wicked Ways" picks up on the author's Don Juan Dad, tags him with the mixed mockery (not least self-mockery) and affection of Errol Flynn's autobiography title- and makes the best of a painful reality by recycling this family condition- as best she can- into her own bravura stance. In the poem's photo of a young married couple the father's coming affairs are not yet seen, and neither is the nature of the baby in her mother's arms:
She does not know yet
I will turn out bad.
The stance which will emerge is that of the "bad" girl, the "Loose Woman", the one who loves 'em and leaves 'em when fate or, crucially, a pose of independence, requires. I say that this stance is a pose or theatrical attitude because I find the poems of heartache and loneliness much more convincing.
In "Loose Woman", the follow up collection, the stance overwhelms the tragedy, in this book the song is sung blue and pure. Very few weak poems here. A selection that stings your throat like a shot of tequila. An album you'll put on your turn table again and again.