In Rane Arroyo's poetry we hear echoes of Whitman, Lorca, Neruda. But more important, we hear Arroyo's own song of self rendered with a lyricism that belies its astonishing and redolent honesty. The Buried Sea: New and Selected Poems is a powerful addition to the American literary landscape. --Connie May Fowler.
Basing his study on firsthand experience with Yukaghir hunters, Rane Willerslev focuses on the practical implications of living in a 'hall of mirrors' world, one inhabited by humans, animals and spirits, all of whom are understood to be endless mimetic doubles of one another.
ThereÕs no denying it, media culture has ushered in a new era of visibility for gays in America. Yet somehow the gay Latino doesnÕt fit into this sound-bite identity and usually isnÕt included in national media images. Rane Arroyo offers a corrective. Known primarily as a poet and playwright representing the gay Latino community, Arroyo has also been publishing prose throughout his career and now gathers into this book a storm of writing that has been gaining strength, drop by drop, for more than ten years. How to Name a Hurricane collects short stories and other fictions depicting Latino drag queens and leather men, religious sinners and happy atheists, working class heroes and cyberspace vaquerosÑa parade of characters that invites readers to consider whether one is more authentic a gay Latino than another. Whereas actual hurricanes are given names, the gays given voice in this collection must name themselvesÑand these narratives in turn reveal something of the "I" of Hurricane Rane. Whether portraying a family gathering as Brideshead Revisited with a mambo soundtrack, recounting the relationship of transvestite Louie/Lois and her bisexual Superman, or bemoaning "feeling as unsexy as an old bean burrito in a 7-11 microwave," Arroyo tracks the heartbeat of his characters through a shimmering palette of styles. Here are monologues, a story in verse, and other experimental forms appropriate to experimental livesÑall affirming the basic human rights to dignity, equality, love, and even silliness. When the AIDS epidemic first hit, many Latino families destroyed any remembrances of their gay and bisexual sons that might betray their pasts to la familia or el pueblo. ArroyoÕs writings return the ghosts of those sons to the families, bars, dance clubs, and neighborhoods where they belong. By penetrating to the IÕs of narrative hurricanes, these stories honor the survivors of our ongoing cultural storms.