1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Darkness and Light, May 28, 2009
This review is from: Romance of a Little Village Girl (Paso Por Aqui: Series on the Nuevomexicano Literary Heritage) (Paperback)
Soaking her elderly self in the hot-springs of New Mexico's Ojo Caliente, Cleofas was so small that the spa attendant joked she'd have to ensure Cleofas didn't wash down the drainpipe, while large tourists tried to, "get rid of some of their excessive avoirdupois through evaporation . . . These remarks about my size will not cease until people see me in my casket. Then the remarks will change from, "She is just like a doll," to "What a little old lady" (p 197-198). With intelligence and dry humor, Cleofas describes her wide and varied life, from her upbringing in New Mexico's Arroyo Hondo valley, her lost Eden, to Washington, D.C., NYC, and even Dr. Kellog's Battle Creek Sanitarium.
This was a proud woman, not "nice," faced with obstacles later in life. A captivating narrative, resurrected from dusty oblivion, previously available only to scholars with access to library special-collections. The first section may be a bit slow, and the badly edited (even the copyright contains a typo) introduction primarily illuminates the contemporary political self-consciousness of a well-intentioned academic, but once Cleofas and her compelling eye turn to harvest time in rural New Mexico, the flow of her life will draw you in.
This memoir records the particularity of a life, imperfect, not accommodated to modern sensibilities, yet fascinating. Cleofas is observant and intelligent, though anything but PC regarding conflicts between early Spanish colonies and tribal lands. There are rare moments of confession, where she admits to terrible errors in her relationship with her daughter, incidents of selfishness and cruelty. (Sadly, others have written misleading, exploitive books about the tragedy her daughter's too-short life. Had Cleofas and her powerful family responded to the event with outright racism, she easily could have lied during her testimony.)
Cleofas believed that her historic Spanish culture was being denigrated and appropriated by outsiders. She provides an honest point of view, however flawed toward other cultures. She felt that the newcomers in New Mexico even cooked traditional Spanish, New Mexican foods badly (they still do). This is testament of a life altered by the Depression, tragedy, "progress," and the loss of the peaceful agrarian life of Cleofas' childhood, with history stretching back to Mexico and Spain. Cleofas is the first Hispanic to have written a Spanish-American cookbook, "Genuine New Mexico Tasty Recipes (Potajes Sabrosos)," but unfortunately, Cleofas assumed her audience would understand the context and common sense contents of her foods, and excludes measurements. This reflects some of the other odd omissions in her memoir, as she was once a well-known woman in Santa Fe, concerned with her family's social status, and leaving a proper impression for posterity. Her personal knowledge of New Mexico's historic landscapes, her vivid descriptions of a world balanced on a precipice of change in the name of progress, churches with adobe walls five feet thick that had withstood centuries, yet were soon to be demolished, haciendas as self-sufficient fuedal systems, and rural village life, are fascinating.
Another unique woman's voice, first published in 1902 and almost lost in time, from Butte, Montana:
The Story Of Mary MacLane & Other Writings
Cleofas mentions this with admiration, and it is a wonderful read:
Death Comes for the Archbishop (Vintage Classics)
Wonderful diary (but for the stilted footnotes & editing by Drumm):
Down the Santa Fe Trail and into Mexico: The Diary of Susan Shelby Magoffin, 1846-1847 (Yale Western Americana Paperbound, Yw-3.)
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