Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya

Synopsis from Goodreads: 
Antonio Marez is six years old when Ultima enters his life. She is a curandera, one who heals with herbs and magic. 'We cannot let her live her last days in loneliness,' says Antonio's mother. 'It is not the way of our people,' agrees his father. And so Ultima comes to live with Antonio's family in New Mexico. Soon Tony will journey to the threshold of manhood. Always, Ultima watches over him. She graces him with the courage to face childhood bigotry, diabolical possession, the moral collapse of his brother, and too many violent deaths. Under her wise guidance, Tony will probe the family ties that bind him, and he will find in himself the magical secrets of the pagan past—a mythic legacy equally as palpable as the Catholicism of Latin America in which he has been schooled. At each turn in his life there is Ultima who will nurture the birth of his soul.

My Thoughts: 
Bless me, Rudolfo. I tried. I really tried. But after forcing myself to finish the 5th chapter, I just couldn't justify making myself read a book I couldn't get into. Life's too short! Now that being said, I appreciated Anaya's language and imagery. He writes with a fierce connection to nature which is why I'm so bummed I couldn't get into the story. What made me put this book down was the slow-moving story and the lack of connection I felt with the characters. Ultima was the most colorful and interesting of the bunch, but it still wasn't enough to make me keep reading. 

         Who knows, maybe this book gets REALLY good in chapter 6. If so, then I missed out on it. Give the book a try and maybe it will be different for you. Just because it didn't grab me doesn't mean it's not worth reading. Rudolfo Anaya is praised in the Chicano literature canon so it can't be for nothing. 

The Author

New and Selected Poems by Mary Oliver

Book Synopsis from Goodreads:
As Diane Wakoski has noted, the power of Mary Oliver's Frost-influenced pastoral writing is in her ability to cast a spell, to create "the illusion that the natural world is graspable." Oliver's fierce independence, beautiful imagery, and love and knowledge of the natural world are all driven by a searching mind, expressed in poems that make for good company. In Some Questions You Might Ask, Oliver gives us this one to chew over: "Is the soul solid, like iron?/ or is it tender and breakable, like/ the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?" Highly recommended.

My Thoughts:
A poet with a truly beautiful perspective in its simplicity. She will make you see things in a new way or see them for the first time. I especially enjoyed her more recent poetry that focuses on nature. What makes her stand apart from other nature poets is that she doesn't describe things in a sweet and sugary way. It's more like she grabs a handful of really pretty mud and shoves it in your face. Some poets write in a way that embellishes and glorifies. Instead, Mary Oliver pulls back the veil and shows the bare bones of things. And it's gorgeous. Poets and readers of poetry should definitely add her to their list.

When Death Comes 

When death comes

like the hungry bear in autumn

when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;

when death comes

like the measle-pox;

when death comes

like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;

what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything

as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,

and I look upon time as no more than an idea,

and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common

as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth

tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something

precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder

if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened

or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

The Poet

Poet Tidbit: Her fifth collection of poetry, American Primitive, won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1984.