My joy at hearing about a cartoon history of Latinos (not, you may notice, Latinas or even Latina/os) illustrated by Lalo Alcaraz was tempered only slightly by hearing the editor (not, I'm sorry Mr Stavans, the author) was self-styled Mexican kitsch authority Ilan Stavans. "A possible resource for teaching!" I thought. Reading the book, however, was such a great disappointment that I doubt it's going to make the cut for the classroom.
Without denigrating at all Lalo Alcaraz' art, the book fails on several levels, not the least of which is originality. The first question I asked myself was "Who was this written for?" The introduction to what could have been a revolutionary book seems to veer between being too clever for its own good and winking in the direction of academics, intimating somehow that "comics" are a kind of Latino cultural icon that is kitschy and therefore useful for transmitting ideas. Stavans hasn't done much work on cartoons or comics, or the notion that cartoonish comic art is more (or less) appropriate to represent Latino history would have been more informed. Alcaraz' talent rises above this rather mediocre beginning and keeps the reader amused, even while Stavans (as a cartoon Mini-Me) keeps popping up exclaiming the inevitability of historical bias, insisting on the futility of "truth" in history, and generally sounding defensive. Instead of acknowledging the real social and cultural impact of how history has been and gets transmitted, Stavans seems to want to exist in an academic, vague vacuum, which he may believe protects him or makes him appear to be unbiased-- it does neither. Even some of us academics know that.
More troubling, and the key to a two-star review of this text, the book cribs horribly its history from better texts, the most particular offenses being those against the Elizabeth Martinez-edited "500 Years of Chicano History". Several images (MANY images) are culled from that fine picture/word text-- somewhat surprisingly, since Alcaraz has talent galore. Martinez' book, far more complex in its use of images and commentary, should be read before this cartoon history. Also at stake is Stavans' perception of historical importance. We know from the text he loves Richard Rodriguez, but when we finally get to the real (non-idealized) Latinas, we get a few of them drawn on one page, and a digression all too brief of their importance. In what way was this book supposed to educate, inform, or revolutionize when it remakes history in the pattern of most history books before it? Reread Acuna's "Occupied America" and "500 Years" if you'd like to see history-as-usual turned on its head.
A book which perhaps would have been better if left to Alcaraz alone, Latino USA trips over itself and its editor's need to academize and, ironically, oversimplify in trying for an audience (ANY audience). Next time, aim for the Academy, Mr. Stavans-- it deserves the hit better than Latinas and Latinos who are still looking for the past to make sense of the present and prepare for the future. Meanwhile, I'll keep reading L.A. Cucaracha.
