|
May 29, 2005
By Yvette Benavides
------
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.
|