Authors From Puerto Rico

"Our stand as an island/nation/U.S. "territory"/colony is asking for a revision. Personally, I believe that we live in global times. New identities need to participate in the dialogue about civil rights, sovereignty, the need to look past nationalisms and their monolithic discourses on what constitutes citizenship."

"I think that art and especially literature is really good at teaching people how to be compassionate and how to put yourself, put themselves, in other people's shoes and trying to bridge the unbridgeable, which is to live through other people's perception. It gifts the eyes of the beholder, not the eyes of the writer, and that is a wonderful gift. That is absolutely wonderful—and that books—it's okay if they entertain, it's okay if they teach—but what they teach in a very profound level is to be human."

"My intention is to write things that can convey a vision of the memory lost, of a way of living in the world."

"what is sold as mainstream literature, I don't like it very much—very simplified, industrialized, Dan Brown stuff. I don't want to write like that."

"that's what artists are. We are the voices, and the memory, and the explorers of an aesthetic, and a sensibility, and a philosophy that has been silenced and devalued."

"I prefer novels. However, I think that the theme of the piece determines its form. Some texts work better in poetry than in essay or stories or plays. It is good though to learn as many techniques in creative writing as one can, so that, as a writer, one has the flexibility to work with the piece and its need."

"I do not see this novel as solely dealing with LGBT issues. I see Sirena as a metaphoric representation of the whole Caribbean. The fact that s/he is a transvestite is just a fact. Basically, I did what Flaubert did with Emma Bovary. He talked about his society through the character of a woman—an adulterous woman…"

"People believe that black people live the same way everywhere and that is not true. White people don’t live the same way everywhere, even if you have the same cultural references. Take music. Rap, of course, black rappers don’t live the same way everywhere. There are black rappers in Africa, black rappers in France, black rappers in the U.S. and there are black rappers in the Caribbean. I wanted people to see the way in which that music became a means of expression of a reality, which is at the same time both global and local."

"I was born with a particular sensitivity to words. Some people are very good with math and sports… I wasn’t but I could feel words."

"I think the joy of reading any book is that you enter where you can, like reading a poem. Sometimes we start off with a title or we enjoy a piece for its sonic effect, an image, or innovation. Reading a book is more or less the same process. At the start, you might be outside the experience, but the language is specific enough that it will draw you in, first with its music and then with its attempt at recollection…"

"I tried to capture the recollection of that experience. As if to say, you have these war-like, traumatic experiences and you retell them and retell them and each time you add something that wasn’t there the first time. The truth effect of that is that it just becomes larger and larger because your memory details are at work. The question then becomes: how many of those little embellishments—how many of those little nuances—can you add up before they tell a larger truth about the time that you were living in? That’s really the effect of writing a book, I think…"

"Corners. It’s always been corners. Corners help me see angles. All of Where a Nickel Costs a Dime was written on the corners of 123rd Street and Lexington Avenue in East Harlem. After hanging out for a day, an evening, or breaking night, I would retreat to my Olympia electric typewriter that was usually sitting on my desk, in the corner of the bedroom where I looked out of the window as a kid, and would get to work on a poem…"

"I use vignettes and dialogue as a way of relaying a moment. Storytelling is not a monotonic medium. Rule breaking is a conscious decision and, yes, it comes with consequences. I think the nostalgia is really a specific memory made of the right words that are more celebratory, elegiac, than nostalgic."

"How is one to reconstruct a memory of a place that doesn’t exist anymore? I mean the buildings are still there, but the faces are no longer the same. Gentrified NYC has pretty much eviscerated the nuances of particular neighborhoods, like El Barrio…"

"When I started writing, there were only two women writers that I knew: Lorraine Sutton and Margie Simmons. There were very few Latinas writing in English... So when I started, I was mainly surrounded by men-Pedro Pietri, Jesus Papoleto Melendez, Lucky Cienfuegos, Miguel Algarín, Miguel Piñero, Tato Laviera. Many of them had books already published. I was like a sponge, absorbing different things from these male contemporaries."

"Her (Sandra María Esteves's) struggle for language, like Tato Laviera's, is not just linguistic, cultural or national, but also racial."

"Puerto Rico in particular intertwines Caribbean Black Spanish. We dare to claim it. It is a source of pride and we are not linguistically crippled. My claim to fame is I can experiment, and sound intelligent with my linguistic experiments."

"In the Lower East Side, the Puerto Ricans had already been ‘project-ed.’ The people were used to living in the projects. They worked on ships on South Street or in hotels. There were a lot of people collecting records, so music became a really important connection between New York City and Puerto Rico. We spoke English in the street and Spanish at home. A lot of music from Puerto Rico was played in the streets and in people’s homes. We listened to Bomba, Plena, pop music and Salsa."

"I write music with my mouth — first lyrics, then song, then rhythm."

"I happen to feel that [Piñero] was a romantic character and there was something about his love for land that was very wonderful, the way he held Puerto Rico, that elusive homeland in the foreground of his thoughts and writing. For all of us who are uprooted and thrown into this city, to keep a semblance of that is always so dignified. That would make it perhaps a bit nostalgic for me because people like that don’t seem to be around anymore."

"His poetry and the plays are so fraught with the things that aggravated and influenced him and ultimately made his life successful. He took this form and infused it with an urban, Latin lifeblood that had never been used in poetry before. He was remarkable as a writer in terms of never really self-editing himself or censoring himself."

"Prison is a society within a society. It’s a reflection of life in the streets. The jargon may be different, but we think and feel the same as on the streets and we recreate it in prison."

"Theater is the only thing that still belongs to the people"

"When I started writing, there were only two women writers that I knew: Lorraine Sutton and Margie Simmons. There were very few Latinas writing in English... So when I started, I was mainly surrounded by men-Pedro Pietri, Jesus Papoleto Melendez, Lucky Cienfuegos, Miguel Algarín, Miguel Piñero, Tato Laviera. Many of them had books already published. I was like a sponge, absorbing different things from these male contemporaries."

"While her biography might very well place her in a direct line to the emphasis on blackness in the Nuyorican soundings of Boricua identity in the post-68 generation of poets and activists, and beyond to more contemporary poetry and novels, we must recognize that she knew Arturo Schomburg, she knew Piri Thomas, and she was very active in the 1960s and 1970s in New York City during the apogee of the Young Lords Party and the Nuyorican poetry movement. Yet she did not choose to explore African diasporan identity per se, nor the blackness intrinsic to Puerto Rican culture, in her writing and public intellectual work of that period. Perhaps, in her view, that went without saying; in many of her unpublished essays and other archival papers, she cites what in today's academic terms would be a radically multiracial and multi-ethnic view of the roots of Puerto Rican literature, including the African diaspora as one of the taproots. Scholarship on Belpré, like the scholarship on Arturo Schomburg, is still evolving, if slowly (Torres-Padilla 2002; Núñez 2009; Jimenez Garcia 2011)."

"A bilingual child is often considered a reluctant reader mainly because he is just beginning to learn English as a second language. Here the problem is mainly the lack of understanding on the teacher's part."

"There is a mistaken idea that the reluctant reader is mainly a product of poverty in disadvantaged areas. Nothing can be further from the truth. These children share the universality of childhood-that is theirs regardless of their status in life. They have their hopes, dreams, and little joys. They need a little more individual care-a feeling, perhaps of love-to fill the vacuum of so many hours alone. They respond quickly and naturally to attention because they are sensitive children."

"In my opinion, the answer to what makes a reluctant reader is the lack of motivation in the home; non-reading parents, lack of verbal communication, working parents too tired to answer questions, lack of books around the house, and too much dependence on television for entertainment. But the reluctant reader must learn to read, and that is left to the school. The school is not without fault in failing him. Too much stress on pedagogical reading material has left no room for reading for pleasure; in fact it has destroyed any incentive for it. Somewhere on the way, the individuality of the child has been lost in the effort to make of him just "teaching material." Classes that are too large have made matters worse. Lucky is the child from such a group that finds the public library and discovers its picture book or reading hours."

"I would also make the following general suggestions. Don't get enthralled with your own vocabulary. Avoid flashbacks. Remember that children's dreams are often outsized. Don't forget the magnificent sweep of the imagination and dreams of youth; when a boy comes only to a man's shoulders, his dreams are tall. Through all the hardships and heartbreaks, these dreams often become realities. And last of all, when writing for adolescents, remember that they know more, feel more, and understand more than some grown-ups realize."

"When you remember these three basic things about readers in general-that they like suspense, that they want to see the story happen and, most important of all, that they want to feel the story happen-then you are ready to think about the particular reader."

"Research is always necessary for accuracy in a story. But once you begin the process of writing a story, forget the attitude of the researcher and become the storyteller. Divide your mind into three parts, because with every sentence, every scene, and every chapter, you must be thinking of three things at the same time. One part of you lives with the hero or heroine of the story. Crawl into his mind and stay there, seeing the world through his eyes. The second part of you must be able to look around the corner, past the days, the months, and the years ahead to the final scene. The third part of you must be thinking of your reader, for your story will not happen on paper; it will happen first in the imagination of your reader. What you commit to paper should be geared to making the story live for him. So think of the reader. Likewise, there are three general things to remember about your readers. First, don't tell them anything show them...Second, writing for your reader is like going on a picnic. Both writing and picnics take a bit of planning...Third, remember that your reader is primarily interested in plot."

"Statehood will destroy Puerto Rico's national identity in short order, while the present Commonwealth system will destroy it as surely, though more slowly...I repeat now the words that I wrote to my distinguished friend Don Luis Ferré in a public letter, October 6, 1964: God save the children of Puerto Rico from the day when they have to be protected from discrimination practiced against them by people of alien origin in the schools of their own land."

"Puerto Rico is a beautiful island, with a culture enriched by old, old stories gained from many people. Traces of this culture are everywhere. And there are still many more story seeds waiting to be planted."

"This paper should be filled with statistics, but no statistic can show the joy of a child who runs around the room to tell his friends, "She speaks Spanish. She can help you with your books.""

"In this present struggle to fight poverty, hunger and fear, and to bring some semblance of peace and security into the home, the need for serenity and beauty seem to be forgotten. Food alone can't do it. It needs an elevation of spirit that transcends all materialities. This serenity, this beauty, is apparent in the faces of the children in the story hour room. For a while at least, through the power of a story and the beauty of its language, the child escapes to a world of his own. He leaves the room richer than when he entered it."

"I searched for some of the folktales I had heard at home. There was not even one. A sudden feeling of loss rose within me."

"To appreciate the present, one must have a knowledge of the past…to know where we go, we must know from where we came…"

"In sheer quality, The Tiger and the Rabbit and Other Tales is arguably Belpré's finest work."

"Among other inspirations, including her natural gifts and formal training as a storyteller, Belpré's polyglot familiarity with excellent children's literature and the tutelage she had from her senior women colleagues at the NYPL had the more profound effect on her sensibilities as an author and folklorist."

"[S]torytelling is a living art, and each teller embellishes, polishes and recreates as she goes along without losing the thematic value."

"Did she, like her contemporary Arturo Schomburg (1874-1938), have intergenerational family ties to the French Caribbean islands? Was she somehow of French descent, like Luisa Capetillo? The absence of such basic information in Belpré's papers is striking since she offers so much information about her adult life. Either Belpré, a gifted storyteller, preferred not to talk too much about her family's history or simply did not know much about it. It is probably not a coincidence that three of the most important stateside Puerto Rican public intellectuals of that period-Belpré, Arturo Schomburg, and Jesús Colón (1901-1974)-as diverse as their worldviews and interests were, were each quiet about or prone to fictionalizing their family histories in Puerto Rico. Intriguing too is that all three of these prominent Boricuas were a darker shade of brown, and therefore must have suffered racialized discrimination not only in the larger U.S. society but also within the Puerto Rican community itself."