Gregory Desilet. 2010, ISBN: 1-4415-4683-9 (Trade Paperback 6x9).
Michael Sedano
I had drawn Quick Reaction Force duty that February day. QRF was among the Army's quaint oxymorons. After a full day's duty,
QRF detailed soldiers were confined to quarters from 1700 until called upon for a quick reaction. 
By: msedano,
on 11/10/2009
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Michael Sedano
In an era of ebooks and Kindles, iPhones, Blackberries and all manner of text-delivering digital device, Literary El Paso seems a throwback to an earlier
era and a substantial reminder why one enjoys reading printed books in a cozy chair. Undeniably, portability is one advantage electronic devices have over the printed page. Whip out that iPhone while waiting for the bus and read to your heart’s content. Your heart. Me, I’m sure if I haul around this volume I either will forget my reading anteojos at home, or remember the lentes but set the book down somewhere and forget it. They say the memory’s the second thing to go and I do not remember the first.
Texas Christian University Press printed Literary El Paso’s 572 pages, plus xxiv front material, on a 7” x 10” page, giving the volume a comfortable heft and a shape that opens just right to fit a reader’s lap. The serifed font-- is it “Centaur” so highly praised in Carl Hertzog’s essay on page 9?-- is uncomfortably tiny for my eyes, but the typesetter’s justification spreads out individual letters so none touch neighbors (except in a couple of spots), and generous line spacing spreads the text across and down the page creating ample white space for maximal legibility. Once you’ve gotten hands on your own copy of Daudistel’s collection, you’ll likely agree Literary El Paso qualifies as a Morris Chair book.
Upon scanning Literary El Paso’s table of contents and paging serendipitously through the volume, readers will discover the editor’s liberal sense of “literary” as encompassing a wide variety of writing, from poetry to journalism to footnoted historical writing to fiction to essay. Indeed, Daudistel observes in her Introduction that “all writing coming out of a region is, in fact, the literature of that region” and that's what she's included, a rich potpourri of flavors.
Given such a cafeteria plan, readers may elect to browse the collection, not read it at a sitting. Daudistel’s made that easy by assembling her material into three themes. It’s a sensible organization that lends itself to part-by-part enjoyment. Part I, “The Emergent City / La Ciudad Surge”, opens with a cowboy fragment and features historians and journalists. Part II, calls itself “The People, La Gente”, and features a preponderance of Latina Latino writers, and fiction. Part III, “This Favored Place / Lugar Favorecido”, features poets and essays. The collection includes unpublished works from John Rechy, Ray Gonzalez and Robert Seltzer.
Given the pedo that erupted last Tuesday in Sergio Troncoso’s essay, Is the Texas Library Association excluding Latino writers?, Seltzer’s apologia for his father, Chester Seltzer AKA “Amado Muro” constitutes a mixed bag of biography and sympathetic character assassination, but not a defense for Seltzer père’s cultural appropriation--perhaps “reverse assimilation”-- of a Mexicano identity and his subsequent lionizing as a Chicano writer. Literary El Paso is silent about the controversy—see Manuel Ramos’ 2005 column for a usef
If the book is as well written an engaging as this review, we're in for a great read. I intend to find out.
In behalf of Mrs. Sedano, a highly literate and gentle woman, and myself, I'm happy to deny once again Mike's confabulation - we threw no rocks. However, I was there to watch events unfold.
I was near the bank returning a book to someone when I noticed the small groups gathering near the Bank of America. I wandered over to see what was up. There were people griping about bank's rotten behavior and its role in the power elite. There were also cans of rocks about the size of baseballs just sitting here and there.
The crowds grew and people started more organized chanting. Then the Santa Barbara PD showed up in large buses and started to unload for a ritual beat down. All of a sudden, rocks were headed in their direction, quite a few rocks. They SBPD made a hasty retreat to their transport and took off. It was the only instance that I know of during that time when the police had to openly retreat.
Then the bank was burned.
It was a set up. Where did those rocks come from?
A few days before, Jerry Rubin and the other members of that traveling show had addressed a huge crowd in Isla Vista at the football stadium (for a team that didn't exist anymore). They whipped people up real good, then left town. I was near the stage and, right next to me, Rubin said to one of the others, "This is the best one yet!!!"
What a crock. The Bank of America burned but, the entire time I was at UCSB, no one ever organized a demonstration at the 10 or 12 major defense firms located about one mile from IV, not one.
Rubin's remark and the failure to address the real defense establishment of the time taught me a great deal about the legitimacy of the protest movement leaders. The movement was excellent. The leaders, effortlessly flying all over the country for years, were a bunch of performers, small time magicians, diverting the energy of a real peoples' movement into the clown show of paid freaks who missed the point and alienated the masses.
Ah well, the war ended...and it had nothing much to do with us. Nine years is a long time. How many have we been in Iraq?
I'm sure that this book is well worth reading, just based on your description of Carnova.