Voice of the nation
Nearly everyone who lauds the new U.S. poet laureate, Juan Felipe Herrera, describes his birth to farmworkers of Mexican descent as though to say that he’s come a long way and that America is a land of opportunity. If doors have opened to him almost magically, perhaps because of his extraordinary fluency with languages, Herrera has also pried them open with his humor, courage and fortitude.
The author of 29 books of poetry, along with novels for children and young adults, he has cried out against injustice and inequality, written verse that pushes language into new territories and explored the links between diverse cultures and creeds. In 2007, City Lights published his “187 Reasons Mexicanos Can’t Cross the Border,” already a classic of contemporary American poetry. City Lights will release his latest work, “Notes on the Assemblage,” on Tuesday, Sept. 15, the day of his inaugural reading as poet laureate. Q: The French existentialist Albert Camus once said, “Poverty wasn’t a calamity for me.” Can you relate to that idea? A: Yes, but it took me a long time to get to that place. I spent many years carving into my own pain and suffering and that of my parents and grandparents. Gradually, I came to see beyond their poverty and to appreciate them as pioneers blazing new trails with bravery, heroism and beauty. Q: You were born in Fowler, Calif., weren’t you? A: I spent the first 29 days of my life there in the winter of 1948-1949. My parents moved from ranch to ranch, valley to valley, town to town, but our roots in Fowler never really faded. For me it’s a place of history, stories and songs, not just facts and figures. Q: Does the big story of our time seem to you to be the story of migrants and refugees? A: Migrants all over the world are pushed and pulled across borders by hunger, terror and climate change. It happened to my own family. It’s a vibrant story and it’s coming at us full speed. Refugees from Syria have had a terrible journey. Q: In one of your books, you praise your third-grade teacher Mrs. Lucille Sampson. A: As a boy, I felt ashamed of being Mexican. I’d say I was Hawaiian. Mrs. Sampson and other teachers invited me to come out of my bubble. Mr. Schuster asked me, “Who are you?” That was an invitation to look at myself in a positive light. After that, I started to act, sing and go onstage. Q: Do you think and feel in both Spanish and in English? A: I do. Sometimes I burn out in one language. Then I go to the other one. Changing languages frees me up and gives me a new and different instrument to work with. This morning I went back and forth from English to Spanish and back to English. Sometimes you can do things with Spanish — like verbs and genders — easier than you can in English. Q: You might be alone in a room when you write but also surrounded by the poets of the past. A: This morning, I read an inspiring poem by Carl Sandberg and I said, “Thank you, Carl.” Allen Ginsberg’s long lines surround me. When I write I hang out with Picasso, Alexander Calder and with novelists, too. Recently, I’ve been reading contemporary Polish poets. They’ve been my partners in my hotel room here in Washington, D.C. Q: I’ve been reading your poetry and listening to you perform your work on YouTube. You move with ease from sadness to anger to humor. A: One critic said that I was temperamental. He pulled off my camouflage and revealed the real me. Some say I’m moody. Q: Your work can be both accessible and obscure. A: Sometimes I want to really communicate, and at other times I’m more interested in experimenting. For a long time I rebelled against plain, direct speech. Now I accept it. Q: I love your poem, “Half-Mexican,” which is in “Notes on the Assemblage.” No short work conveys better the complexities of a Mexican identity. A: I enjoyed writing it. I sat down and did it in one sitting. Except for a dash or two, I didn’t revise. I often write quickly. I grab a pencil, a piece of paper and cover the page with words. Q: Then there’s your humorous side. Where does it come from? A: Maybe from being a joker. I was goofy as a kid. I like the cartoon world, and I’ve long enjoyed the older Jewish comedians such as Mort Sahl, Don Rickles and Lenny Bruce. Q: As poet laureate, you’ll be traveling a lot. How do you feel about that? A: I’m looking forward to it. I want to see new places and people and find out what’s happening across the country. I’ll be listening to America. Q: You like performing, don’t you? A: Very much. I think it’s important for artists to withstand the forces that would make us normal. We’re not bankers. We can wear all kinds of costumes: a Marlon Brando jacket and pinstriped pants. Maybe today I’ll find a hat for the inauguration.