U.S. author at home penning stories about his birthplace, Peru
May 29, 2005
By Yvette Benavides
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To call twentysomething Peruvian American author Daniel Alarcón an "emerging" writer seems an overstatement even though his first collection of short fiction, "War by Candlelight," has just been published. Alarcón first burst on the literary scene in 2003 when his story "City of Clowns" was published in The New Yorker debut fiction issue.

Says Alarcón about the buzz initiated by the feat, it was "incredibly exciting." He adds, "A lot of good things happened as a result, but then, when the initial rush passed, I still had to sit down and keep working."

Alarcón attributes his dogged focus on his writing, even after the media attention that followed The New Yorker publication, to his tenure at the prestigious Iowa Writers Workshop and the legendary cloistering its writers must endure. Says the author, "Being in Iowa was a good thing because it kept me a bit isolated from a lot of the chatter, kept me surrounded by working writers."

Also noteworthy about this wunderkind is that he was actually raised in, not the Andes, but Alabama — though he did "summer" in Peru and he says he feels at home in Lima, his birthplace.

Many of the nine stories in "War by Candlelight" take place in Peru in various periods and phases of that country's difficult history. The characters face the antagonizing forces of the setting, poverty, war, desperation and even hopefulness in the face of that desperation.

In "City of Clowns," Oscar "Chino" Uribe is a newspaperman working for El Clarín, chasing a story about clowns. This is Peru, where clowns compete with "every out-of-work nobody selling candy on buses." His field research is interrupted by the death of his father, who during Oscar's childhood had taken up with a woman named Carmela. The two started a home and had children. Carmela befriends Oscar's mother, Marisol. Oscar perceives that both of his parents have betrayed him, even though Carmela seems a decent sort, a kind of victim of circumstance.

After Oscar takes on the painful task of writing his father's obituary for the paper, an obituary that was essentially truncated, including nothing about the man's "other" family, he resumes his research on clowns, even putting on the grease paint and ping-pong ball nose himself. Immediately he is transformed. He becomes a kind of ridiculous spy furtively eyeing strangers and even his mother, and an ex-girlfriend from the vantage point of one who is essentially ignored. Says Alarcón, for Oscar, "becoming a clown ... is not much of a psychological jump. Putting on the costume ... ratifies what he already thought about himself. He's in this fugue state."

The story "Absence" is set in New York City a year after the Sept. 11 attacks. It tells the story of Wari, an artist from Lima with a visa which will expire in less than two weeks. For Wari and for other immigrants, as the narrator tells us, "The grandiose illusion of the exile is that they are all back home, your enemies and your friends, voyeurs all, watching you" while Americans carry their "opulent burden." The story itself seems a kind of aching, knowing nod to many of those who perished on 9-11 — immigrants from other countries who came to the States to face an ultimate indifference.

Though there are many stories in the book that have to do with specific situations and events of Peru's modern past, it is not necessary to have any prior knowledge of the country's history to appreciate them. These are stories about disillusion and death, but also about characters searching beyond the shadows to hope for love, survival and a kind of faith.

Says Alarcón about the inevitable labeling of his book as "Latino fiction," this is a practice that exists as a "kind of shorthand for the book-buying public and for the industry."
However, he allows, "If it helps readers find books they connect with, it's not necessarily a malignant practice."

At his many readings over the last several weeks, Alarcón says, "It's surprised me how many Peruanos have come up to me and said, 'Hey, compadrito, paisano, we're proud of you.' That really makes me happy."

It is clear that Daniel Alarcón's stories transcend any label. He moves beyond any designation. The stories are by turns gritty and elegant, startling and stunning.

Alarcón may have had an extraordinarily auspicious beginning in his publishing career, but it was by no means a fluke.

"War by Candlelight" attests to this writer's talents to dangle shadowy visions before us while swooping down to light the way to the next story.

Yvette Benavides is an assistant professor of English at Our Lady of the Lake University.

 

 
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