“So Good They Can’t Ignore You” by Cal Newport

So Good They Can’t Ignore You:
Why Skills Trump Passion in the Quest for Work You Love
By Cal Newport
Grand Central Publishing, 2012
ISBN: 978-1455528042

My heart sank when I opened the box from amazon.com. Why had I bought a hardcover edition of what surely must be airport-bookstore-biz-section fluffo? (When I indulge in fluffo it’s the cheaper Kindle editions— and only for perusing on airplanes, hair salons, and the like). But lo, Cal Newport’s So Good They Can’t Ignore You turns out to be both an unusually insightful and practical book. It’s addressed to younger readers, from wannabe movie actors to disgruntled cubicle workers to maybe-biologists-maybe-astrophysicists, but of course I read it as the 50-something literary writer that I am. I’ve “made it” as a writer, I guess you could say, if only because I’m still at it after having published several books, and every once in a while I get the breeze-at-my-back of a glowing review or an award or an invitation to speak. And I’ve taught creative writing workshops for over a decade, so I’ve had many a conversation with beginning writers who want to “follow their passion.” In sum, I hereby throw the weight, such as it may be, of my career and experience behind Cal Newport’s Rule #1: Don’t Follow Your Passion.

Rule #1: Don’t Follow Your Passion

That may sound strange, for I am passionate about what I do. In a sentence: passion isn’t enough because it will never be enough. (And as any writer, or any artist, passionate about their work can tell you, some days are just head-banging torture.) When beginning writers say they have passion for writing, methinks what they really have passion for is their idea of being a writer, which is as different as the first date with the dorm hottie from celebrating a 30th wedding anniversary.

So if it isn’t necessarily following your passion, what describes “great work”? According to Newport, it involves creativity; it has impact; and you’re in control. 

Hmm… sounds like writing.

Rule #2: Be So Good They Can’t Ignore You

Newport argues that “the craftsman mindset is the foundation for creating work you love.” Certainly that has been true for me. I could retail a hundred stories of beginning writers who couldn’t weather their first workshop. They come in with the notion that you have talent or you don’t, so they’re resentful, even deeply angry when the workshop leader and other students don’t shower their manuscript with lotus petals of praise, and they’re quick to conclude: I don’t have talent, I give up. They don’t think: I need to get some skills in the craft of writing. Ah, how rare that is. And the impulse is one of generosity. Writes Newport:

“Whereas the craftsman mindset focuses on what you can offer the world, the passion mindset focuses instead on what the world can offer you. This mindset is how most people people approach their working lives.”

(Which, I guess, is why most people begrudge their boss / customers the minimum and spend the balance of their days in the Gulag Architelevisiono.)

Newport continues:

“[The craftsman mindset] asks you to leave behind self-centered concerns about whether your job is ‘just right.’ and instead put your head down and plug away at getting really damn good. No one owes you a great career… you need to earn it— and the process won’t be easy.”

Newport then provides a checklist of jobs to avoid: Those that do not provide opportunities to develop rare and valuable skills (e.g., working on a frozen foods packing plant’s conveyor belt isn’t going to cut it); those that provide a good or service you think is bad for the world; those where you have to work with people you really don’t like. 

That still leaves a wide open world, for many. The point is, if you’re fortunate enough to have a choice in where and with whom you work, and you want to find work you love, choose the job that enables you to develop a rare and valuable skill, and then— this is crucial—proceed to actually do that. To do that, you have to develop the five habits of the craftsman.

Here is where I began to sit up straight and make use of my highlighter. 

Newport’s Step 1, “Decide What Capital Market You’re In,” “winner-take-all” or “auction,” was something I hadn’t thought about before. (He is using the term “capital” to include “human capital.”) In my own case, writer of literary books, it seems to me that I’m not in as narrow a market as the television scriptwriter (“winner take all,” i.e., the script is all), but close. So what I need to do is write the best book I can write. (Why blog? Because I want to clarify my own thinking, and to share that with you, dear writerly reader.)

Two points Newport makes here: if you’re not uncomfortable, you’re probably not developing your skills, and you need patience. In my experience, yes, developing skills is sometimes toe-curling and yes, you need patience, shipping containers full of it. (And boy howdy am I lucky that my first efforts at literary writing date from well before the advent of the Internet.)

Rule #3 Turn Down a Promotion 

Newport asserts, and I agree, that: 

“Giving people more control over what they do and how they do it increases their happiness, engagement, and sense of fulfillment.”


So if you want to love your work, first get good at what you do, then think about getting control over what you do. 

But watch out for traps. First, taking control too soon, when one doesn’t have adequate skill, may be unsustainable (Ye olde “don’t quit your day job to write a first novel.”) And second, if you really do have valuable skills, you will be sure to encounter resistance to your leaving or at least loosening the leash (from an employer, an agent, an editor). Your employer may promote you— not into a better job for you in terms of developing your skills and control over your time, but ye olde “golden handcuffs.”

In developing this argument, Newport devotes a chapter to what he calls “The Law of Financial Viability,” all common-sense advice for most college graduates and anyone else who needs to make regular debt payments. My one quibble with this book is here: Many people considering a new career are middle-aged or retired, and for some of them— a minority to be sure, but an important one— the financial viability of any given enterprise is not so crucial an issue. They can afford to take a year to write a novel, or open a yoga studio, or what-have-you; but this doesn’t mean they want to remain at the level of a hobbyist. Furthermore, what the market pays is sometimes a poor indicator of meaningful value, and especially in the arts and politics, the best lead with vision, rather than follow the pennies and dimes and dollars and expense account steak dinners. The book would have been far stronger had it considered this demographic as well.

As for myself, before turning to writing, I had a career as an economist specializing in international and development finance. As I am sure you can imagine, dear reader, in saying adios to that for the life of a literary writer, I made some elephantine trade-offs. That said, I did not proceed until I’d already published two books on finance plus an award-winning book as a literary writer. And that said, if I could do it again, I’d do it again because, as the Estate Lady says, “the hearse doesn’t have a trailer hitch.”

Rule #4 Think Big, Act Small

Newport argues that “a unifying mission in your working life can be a source of great satisfaction,” and he illustrates with the case of Pardis Sabeti, a happy and successful Harvard professor of evolutionary biology whose mission is “to rid the world of its most ancient and deadly diseases.” 

As for finding big ideas, Newport introduces the concept of “the adjacent possible” and the caveat: you cannot recognize the adjacent possible until you get to the cutting edge of your field. Writes Newport:

“If life transforming missions could be found with just a little navel-gazing and an optimistic attitude, changing the world would be commonplace. But it’s not commonplace; it’s instead quite rare. This rareness, we now understand, is because these breakthroughs require that you first get to the cutting edge, and this is hard— the type of hardness that most of us try to avoid in our working lives.”

Newport details each step of Professor Sabeti’s career, and how she focused on her training and only after achieving a high level in her field did she identify her defining mission. 

That resonated with me. My mission? To bring my readers to richer levels of understanding and an awakened sense of curiosity and wonder. Sounds simple, but only after writing several books could I articulate that so concisely. And I know the big doesn’t happen without the small. As far as writing a book goes, it’s one word, one sentence, one paragraph at a time. And sometimes— forklift in the industrial quantities of patience— after weeks of work, one has to discard the draft to start over.  It might also mean reading and reading and reading and reading and… whew… more reading, not only about the subject, but the craft itself, which includes, of course, the essential task of reading other books in the same genre, not as a passive consumer, but actively, as a craftsman.

Wrapping up this fourth rule, Newport offers a last chapter on marketing. He argues that

“[f]or a mission-driven project to succeed, it should be remarkable in two different ways. First, it must compel people who encounter it to remark about it to others. Second, it must be launched in a venue that supports such remarking.”

He illustrates with “rock star” computer programer Giles Bowkett who realized that “the best way to market yourself as a programmer is to create remarkable open-source software.” So he did. For Professor Sabeti, the venue was prestigious scientific journals— so she published. (Speaking of venues, this is the main reason why, for many authors, self-publishing turns into such a disappointment.)

As for his own book, Newport confesses:

“If I had published a book of solid advice for helping recent graduates transition to the job market, you might find this a useful contribution, but probably wouldn’t find yourself whipping out your iPhone and Tweeting its praises. On the other hand, if I publish a book that says ‘follow your passion is bad advice,’ (hopefully) this would compel you to spread the word. That is, the book you’re holding was conceived from the very early stages with the hope of being seen as ‘remarkable.'”

Ah, our modern fame-crazed culture. But one thing I’ve learned as a writer: a good blurb is gold. And word of mouth, though it can’t always be quantified—(that’s another subject)— is better than gold. Yes, Newport nails it.

Newport’s own career is indeed remarkable. The author of a series of best-selling books, including How to Be a High School Superstar and How to Win at College (which I thought excellent and regret not having been able to read back in my day); and the host of the blog Study Hacks: Decoding Patterns of Success, he is also a PhD from MIT, now a professor of computer science at Georgetown University.  In the conclusion, itself well worth the price of the book, he recounts how he applied the four lessons to his own career. 

I highly recommend So Good They Can’t Ignore You for everyone from teenagers to retirees, in short, anyone looking to spend their days in a long-term commitment to satisfying, meaningful activity. You can call it “work” if you want. 

And now I’m going to go work on my book.

Synge’s The Aran Islands and Kapuscinski’s Travels with Herodotus 

Q & A with Bruce Berger on A Desert Harvest

Donald M. Rattner’s My Creative Space

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Q & A: Independent Publisher Michele Orwin, Founding Editor of Bacon Press Books

As some of you may know, I wear another chapeau as editor / publisher of Dancing Chiva (which specializes in publishing works by Yours Truly and, shall we say, denizens of the Afterlife). In that guise, I attended last weekend’s excellent two day seminar in Austin, Texas, “Publishing U,” the annual conference of the Independent Book Publishers Association, where I ran into my Washington DC writing friend, novelist and poet Michele Orwin. Turns out she’s started up Bacon Press Books. 

Check out the Bacon Press Books’s beautiful website and the latest book, the first paperback edition of Kate Blackwell’s superb short story collection, You Won’t Remember This, which was originally published in hardcover—and to glowing reviews— by Southern Methodist University Press.

Herewith some Q & A:


C.M. MAYO: What prompted you to start the press?


MICHELE ORWIN: I knew if I wanted to keep working, I’d have to have my own business. Since I’d spent my whole professional life working as a writer and teaching others about writing, I wanted to do something where I could use my experience. Then I read about digital publishing. It made so much sense. 

We know so many writers who had published books that are only available in hardcover. I thought once I learned how to publish, I could either release their books in paperback and Ebook or else teach them how to do it. 

The first paperback edition of Kate Black’s splendid book of short fiction, You Won’t Remember This, Bacon Press Books, 2015

C.M. MAYO: I for one am delighted to see what I would call a “hybrid press.” (Would you agree with that term?) It seems authors such as myself—previously published with various small and commercial presses, a track record of reviews— have been caught between, shall we say, less than attractive deals, or self-publishing, with zip in between. Self-publishing has usually meant that one’s book gets lost in the amazon.com haystack, next to Suzy’s Memories of Cupcake Recipes, which is set in some horrible font with a blecch cover. (Though now that I think about it, Suzy’s Memories of Cupcake Recipes could be the title for a delicious comic novel…)

MICHELE ORWIN: There’s been a lot of discussion in the indie community about terms. I’ll be very happy when we all finally come up with ones we can use. People still confuse what used to be called “vanity publishing” with “self-publishing.”  Vanity publishing in the past meant all you had to do was pay a (usually) exorbitant fee and you’d get a book. No vetting and not great editing. Self-publishers today are a lot more sophisticated and they have access to a wide range of talented free-lancers, so the quality of self-publishing can be pretty high. 

Plus there are a lot of what’s now called “hybrid authors.” Authors who publish both with traditional publishers and with independents or else self-publish. For some it’s a question of economics, they can make more money publishing on their own. For others, it’s a matter of control. We have one author who was published traditionally but wanted to go in a different direction from what his publisher wanted, so he chose to work with us. 
I call myself an independent publisher. We don’t take on most of the books we’re sent. We have high editorial and production standards. People can’t pay us to publish bad books or even mediocre ones.  Not sure what we’d do with Suzy’s Memories of Cupcake Recipes. 

I call the business model I use “partnership publishing.” That comes closest. We’ve tried to make it as author friendly as possible and still be in business. While we can’t offer advances, and we do ask authors to cover production costs, we share other expenses. And while they may provide the capital, I put in way more time than our authors do once the book is published. We offer a generous split on revenues, a two-year contract so authors can go elsewhere if they get a better offer or aren’t happy, and the author keeps all rights and all files. 


C.M. MAYO: You’ve been around a long time and seen many other small presses. Not to name names, but what are some of the things that you’ve seen as common practice in the small press world that you think would be best to avoid?

MICHELE ORWIN: Not sure I can answer that. We published our first book in January 2013 and we’re still learning. What I have seen is that the indie community is incredibly generous in helping newcomers. Giving out information, sharing  contacts. I’ve learned so much from conferences, online groups, and other small presses.  The really awful things are done mostly by the larger companies that charge authors a fortune and don’t do much more than produce a book and make the author buy hundreds of copies. 


C.M. MAYO: What are some of the common misconceptions first time authors have that make it difficult for their press?

MICHELE ORWIN: There are five misconceptions that I’ve run into and have heard other publishers talk about too. First, that the book is fine as is and doesn’t need an editor. Second, just because a book is good, it’ll be a best seller or maybe even sell at all. Third, that they don’t have to do any marketing or promotion to help their books get discovered. Fourth, that they’ll make money. Fifth, that it’ll happen quickly. 

With more than 600,000 books expected to be published this year, it’s a very tough business. 


C.M. MAYO: Your website is one of the best I’ve ever seen. Tell, tell!

MICHELE ORWIN: Thank you! I tried about half a dozen different providers. But I’m not very adept and they just didn’t come out right. My daughter knows coding, she told me about SquareSpace. I needed something easy to use that would look good and SquareSpace was it. 


C.M. MAYO: How about book stores? Does Bacon Books Press work with sales reps?


MICHELE ORWIN: Not all the books we publish would do well in book stores. But for the few that would, we haven’t had much luck. The books can all be special ordered or ordered online from the stores. From what I’ve heard, that’s how many stores would prefer to deal with most small presses. 

We’re not working with distributors yet. But at some point we will be when it makes economic sense for us to do it. A big part of this new publishing landscape is having access to a global market by making the books available online. That’s where we’ll find most of our readers. 


C.M. MAYO: Can you talk about your background as a writer and poet and how that informs what you’re doing now?

MICHELE ORWIN: I’m a fiction writer, my husband is a poet. It’s been a real eye-opener for both of us. Though probably more for me. I now understand why agents/publishers don’t want to see a whole book, or won’t read past the first 10-20 pages. You really can tell pretty quickly if you’re going to like something. I understand how subjective it all is. One book I turned down now has 25 5-star reader reviews on Amazon. It just wasn’t right for us, but I’m sure the author is wondering why I passed.

And I understand why it’s not a good idea to give too much feedback if you’re going to reject a book. Just because I see flaws doesn’t mean someone else will. It’s better to let the author try elsewhere. 

I also understand better why authors need to be involved in marketing. I used to cringe at the idea of self-promotion. But now I can see that the author really is the best person to connect with readers. 

Overall, I’m very glad to have a broader perspective on all this. 

Catamaran Literary Reader and Tiferet: Two Very Fine Literary Magazines

AWP 2019 (Think No One Is Reading Literary Magazines Anymore?)

Five Techniques for a Journey to Einfühlung

Find out more about C.M. Mayo’s books, shorter works, podcasts, and more at www.cmmayo.com.

The StandStand: One Highly Recommended Way to Keep on Writing While Standing

Box of the StandStand, just arrived

An eon ago, in a writing workshop, the then famous teacher whispered to this then whippersnapper the secret of writing books: Sitzfleisch. In other words, the ability to endure sitting in the chair for long periods of time. Well, some decades on, I may not have won the Nobel Prize (yet) but I am indeed talented at enduring daily marathons of sitting. This may be good for my writing (and all the podcasts), but dangerous for my health. My writing assistants haul me out for regular walks, and there’s a bit o’ yoga going on, but that is not enough. 

Back of the StandStand box

A standing desk to the rescue.

After some lickety-split googling on the subject, I settled on the StandStand. (For the record, I have no relationship with this company other than as a delighted customer.)

Finally, I have mine home in Mexico City and assembled. It’s a superb product. It’s made of bamboo and easy to assemble– so it’s light-weight, appealing to the touch, doesn’t allow my laptop to overheat, and it’s portable. Oh, and it was inexpensive, especially in comparison with some of the mechanically operated standing desks. 

Looks like I may have Standfleisch, too. (Is that a word?) Onward!

Up and at ’em with the StandStand!

2019 UPDATE:

Still delightedly using the StandStand. One of my writing assistants has taken over the chair.

P.S. You can now find many Madam Mayo posts for the workshop archived here.

Diction Drops and Spikes

Typosphere, Ho! “Stay West” on my 1961 Hermes 3000

Lord Kingsborough’s Antiquities of Mexico

Find out more about C.M. Mayo’s books, shorter works, podcasts, and more at www.cmmayo.com.


The Solitario Dome

Inside The Solitario. Photo: C.M. Mayo, March 2015

For my Far West Texas book-in-progress and the Marfa Mondays Podcasting project, I am working on an interview with Texas historian Lonn Taylor, plus a short piece about the Solitario Dome of Big Bend Ranch State Park in Far West Texas, which is to say, US-Mexico border country. 

Meanwhile, a few items about the latter:

Chase Snodgrass’s flight over the Solitario:

Google Maps screenshot of the Solitario

Flora and Vegetation of the Solitario Dome
by Jean Evans Hardy, Iron Mountain Press, 2009
(Whoa, call the chiropracter, I brought this one home in my carry-on!)

Geology of the Solitario
by Charles E. Corry, et al. Geological Society of America Special Paper 250, 1990.

“Igneous Evolution of a Complex Laccolith-Caldera, the Solitario, Trans-Pecos, Texas: Implications for Calderas and Subjacent Plutons” 
by Christopher D. Henry, et al.Geological Society of America Bulletin, August 1997 (Super-crunchy PDF)

The Solitario: Sentinel of the Big Bend Ranch State Park”
Megan Hicks, The Big Bend Paisano, Winter 2004/2005
(PDF)

“Geology at the Crossroads”
By Blaine R. Hall, Big Bend Ranch State Park
(PDF)

“Solitario: A Separate Place” and “Fresno Creek:” Desert Cloister”
Texas Monthly, April 1977

Entering the labyrinth of the Solitario via Los Portales (That’s my guide, Charlie Angell, he’s the best, check him out on Tripadvisor.com). Photo: C.M. Mayo, March 2015

>Listen in to all the Marfa Mondays Podcasts anytime. The most recent is “Tremendous Forms: Finding Composition in the Landscape,” an interview with Paul V. Chaplo, author of the magnificent Marfa Flights.

> Marfa Mondays #2 Charles Angell in the Big Bend

Notes on Tom Lea and His Epic Masterpiece 
of a Western, The Wonderful Country

Cartridges and Postcards from the US-Mexico Border of Yore

On the Trail of the Rock Art of the Lower Pecos

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Lone Star Nation: How Texas Will Transform America by Richard Parker

How Texas Will Transform America
By Richard Parker
Pegasus, November 2014
pp. 352
ISBN-10: 1605986267
ISBN-13: 978-1605986265

Book Review by C.M. Mayo

Texas Exceptionalism (TE): I would give it the knee-jerk reject but for the fact that after more than 25 years of living in another country (Mexico), if I’ve learned anything, it’s that empathy for others’ notions of themselves, off-kilter as they may seem, is not only the more politic but oftentimes the wisest stance (because the other thing I’ve learned is that there’s always more to learn). Plus, as my birth certificate says, I’m a Daughter of the Lone Star State, so nudge its elbow and my ego is happy to hop along, at least a little ways, with that rootin’- tootin’ idea. But I was not raised in Texas and, to put it politely, I’ve yet to grok TE. The way I see it at present, yes, Texas is a special place full of proud and wonderful people, with a unique history and an awesome landscape, and once we look with open eyes, ears, intellect, and heart, so is just about every other place, from Baja California to Burma.

That said, though in Lone Star Nation: How Texas Will Transform America, Richard Parker serves up a heaping helping of gnaw-worthy TE, it is an elegantly-written and important book examining trends and challenges for Texas — Texas first, Parker argues— and the nation. 

“an elegantly-written and important book examining trends and challenges for Texas — Texas first, Parker argues— and the nation.”

Migration is changing Texas at warp-speed, and here, with an overview of the history of migration into the area, Parker makes the most vital contribution. 

It was the Fifth Migration, from the Rust Belt of the 1970s and 1980s, that brought northerners with their Republican-leaning politics; the Fourth, Southerners, many of them Yellow Dog Democrats, coming in to work in the oil and related industries in the early 20th century; and the Third, Southerners arriving in the 19th century to farm and ranch in what was originally Mexican territory, then an independent Republic, then a slave state, then a member of the Confederacy, then, vanquished, reabsorbed into the Union. (The Second and First Migrations telescope thousands of years of immigrations from elsewhere in indigenous North America and, originally, from Asia.) 

The current wave of migration, the Sixth, is bringing some 1,000 immigrants into the state each day, from Mexico, points further south, East Asia, South Asia, Europe, and all across the United States itself. And because of this, the over a century-long “Anglo” dominance is about to crumble.  Soon the idea of Texas itself may morph into something denizens of the 20th century might no longer recognize. 

J. Frank Dobie (1888-1964) was considered the first recognized and professional literary writer in the state. From the Wittliff Collections biography: “Many Texas writers openly credit Dobie with giving them the inspiration not only to be a writer but also to feel comfortable using their home state as a subject.”

Yet where did that idea of Texas— this great state for big men in cowboy boots—  and the related TE— come from? How did it become an image fixed in not only the Texan imagination, but the national and international? I would have ascribed it merely to a mash-up of anti-Mexican Texan and US-Mexican War propaganda, the tales of literary legend and folklorist J. Frank Dobie, Southern wounded pride, and splashy bucketfuls of Hollywood fantasy, until I came to Parker’s riveting detour into the history of the marketing of the World’s Fair of 1936. That fair, held the same year as Texas’ centennial, was celebrated with all get-out in Dallas. For its leading citizens, this was, Parker writes, 

“the opportunity to recast Texas:  No longer a broken-down Southern state of impoverished dirt farmers, but one with oil and industry— an inspiration if not a beacon to hungry Americans looking for opportunity in the midst of the Great Depression…. Copywriters, journalists, and artists were hired to tell tales of cowboys, oil, and industry in the years leading up to the World’s Fair.” 

But alas, this came with the racial nonsense of the time. Parker: 

“Gone was the Mexican vaquero, the African American, and the Native American, or at least they were relegated to the role of antagonist…. A centennial exposition [Theodore H. Price, a New York PR man] argued, would teach attendees that the cowboy story was really a story of racial triumph…” 

Giant, the 1956 movie based on Edna Ferber’s novel, starred Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean.

Some of Texas history is painful to read, painful as those punches Rock Hudson’s character, Bick Benedict, took at the end of Giant, in defending his Mexican-American daughter-in-law (from being refused service in a café because of the color of her skin). Parker doesn’t shy away from discussing some ugly and enduring racial problems in Texas, including in Austin, its capital and haven of liberalism, music, and righteously organic breakfast tacos.

At the time Lone Star Nation went to press in 2014, according to Parker, “nearly one in three people who call Texas home have arrived from elsewhere in the United States in the last year.” The gas and oil boom have since collapsed along with the price of oil, so I would expect those numbers to have dropped; nonetheless, as Parker stresses, the overwhelming majority of immigrants end up not in the oil fields, but the “triangle,” the area in and around Dallas, Austin-San Antonio, and Houston. The draw? “Better-paying jobs and bigger homes for less money.”

Parker argues that better jobs are a function of education, and that therefore one of the challenges Texas faces is adequately funding its schools and universities while keeping tuition at affordable levels, especially for the working class and recent immigrants. But the political will may not be there; neither has it been adequate to cope with water shortages, both current and looming. 

Parker’s political analysis is seasoned but unabashedly biased. My dad, a California Republican, would have called it “Beltway Liberalism,” and indeed, until returning to Texas, Parker, a journalist, was based in the Washington DC metropolitan area. I happen to agree with much of what Parker argues, but as someone trying to get my mind around Texas, I would have appreciated his making more of an effort to explore, if not with sympathy then at least empathy, the various strains of conservatism. 

To illustrate the trends and challenges for Texas, Parker offers two scenarios for 2050: one in which Texas has not invested in education, nor maintained a representative democracy, nor addressed environmental issues, and so degenerated into a nearly abandoned ruin (think: Detroit meets Caracas meets the Gobi Desert); in the other, challenges addressed, Texas is a super-charging China-crushin’ hipster Juggernaut. My own guess is that the Texas of our very old age will fall somewhere in between, vary wildly from one region to another, and be more dependent on developments south of the border than the author or, for that matter, most futurists, consider. 

On this last point, in discussing the tidal wave of migration from Mexico, Parker mentions the Woodlands, a once upscale Anglo suburb outside of Houston, still upscale, but now predominantly Mexican. I would have liked to have learned more about this slice of the sociological pie, for in my recent travels in Texas, and from what I hear in Mexico, I’ve also noticed that a large number of well-off Mexicans have been moving to Houston, San Antonio, and Austin. I’m talking about Mexicans who speak fluent English, play tennis and golf, and have studied and traveled abroad in, say, New York, Vancouver, Paris. There’s a bigger story there, for many of them are the wives and children, but not so many husbands, who spend weekdays at their offices in Monterrey, Guadalajara, or, say, Mexico City. These families have not come to Texas for the jobs, nor the wonders of that great state (whose loss still makes many Mexicans bristle), but primarily for their safety—  and, in many cases, for business opportunities. Should security improve in Mexico, I would expect many of these families to return and quickly. Whether that is likely or not is another question.

In sum, Lone Star Nation: How Texas Will Transform America is a rich, vivacious read that provides a sturdy framework to think about the past, present, and prospects of a state that is as much a place as it is, in the words of John Steinbeck, “a mystique approximating a religion.” And if the author is a true blue believer in TE, well hell, bless him. Highly recommended.

Blood Over Salt in Borderlands Texas: Q & A with Paul Cool on Salt Warriors

Notes on Tom Lea and His Epic Masterpiece of a Western, The Wonderful Country

Q & A: Carolina Castillo Crimm on De León: A Tejano Family History

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

An Interview with Mexican Historian Alan Rojas Orzechowski about Maximilian’s Court Painter, Santiago Rebull

He was Maximilian’s Court Painter, a leading figure in 19th century Mexican painting, and one of the important influences on Diego Rivera, yet few people have heard of Santiago Rebull— until now.

Santiago Rebull: The Outlines of a Story, at the Museum of the Diego Rivera Mural in Mexico City. Through February 15, 2015

If you’re anywhere near Mexico City, come in and visit the Santiago Rebull show at the Museo Mural Diego Rivera. >> More information here. << For those aficionados of the history of the French Intervention, and in particular the brief reign of Maximilian von Habsburg as Emperor of Mexico, this is an especially important show not to miss, for Rebull was Maximilian’s Court Painter and, interestingly, one of the few individuals close to the monarchy who managed to remain in Mexico and even thrive in subsequent decades under the Republic. Herewith, my interview with the show’s curator, Mexican historian Alan Rojas Orzechowski.

Santiago Rebull, Self-portrait, 1852

C.M. MAYO: What gave you the idea for the show?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The exhibitionSantiago Rebull: Los contornos de una historia (Santiago Rebull: The Outlines of a Story) presented in the Museo Mural Diego Rivera is our own way to pay homage to one of the most creative minds of the Academic Movement in Mexico, an illustrious painter and educator who molded the minds of pupils such as Roberto Montenegro, Ángel Zárraga and Diego Rivera.

As an outstanding teacher, he taught Diego Rivera as a young student in the San Carlos Academy of Arts. Rivera in return, always considered him as a mentor and guide, respecting him as both, as an instructor and fellow artist. Exploiting this connection, the Museo Mural Diego Rivera and external curator Magaly Hernández, thought suitable to present an exhibition which honored Rebull’s artwork, underlining his influence on Rivera and his generation.


C.M. MAYO: How did Santiago Rebull, so close to Maximilian, manage to remain in Mexico and continue working as a successful artist for decades afterwards?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: I personally think that it was his undeniable talent as an artist which enabled him to continue teaching in San Carlos Academy during three more decades.

In the immediate years after Maximilian’s fall he did receive severe reproaches from fellow artists and local newspapers as a monarchist and “afrancesado” (pro-French), but he carried on painting members of the political, economic and cultural elite. As a testament of this, the portraits of Presidents Benito Juárez and Porfirio Díaz are shown in the exhibition. Both pieces are dated in the 1870s, less than a decade after the monarch´s disgrace.

He retained his position as a teacher in San Carlos and also imparted drawing lessons to female pupils in the Colegio de Vizcaínas which was the only female and secular school in Mexico throughout the XVIII and XIX centuries. Along with his academic career, he remained a prolific painter, authoring remarkable pieces such as La muerte de Marat (Marat’s Death) and several portraits.

Santiago Rebull, La muerte de Marat, 1875


C.M. MAYO: What has been the reaction from art historians and historians of the Second Empire?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The Academic reaction towards the Second Empire, from both, historians and art historians, has changed through time. During the first half of the XX Century, the posture was very much aligned to the official history, characterized by a nationalist stance in which Maximilian was portrayed as an invader and many of his actions as an imposition to Mexicans.

Nevertheless, this has shifted to a fascination for both, Maximilian and Charlotte, partly thanks to literature. En example of this, the book Noticias del Imperio(News from the Empire) by Fernando del Paso or The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire by C.M. Mayo. 

Historians have now a much more benevolent gaze to the Second Empire, emphasizing on Maximilian’s liberal measures that assisted the indigenous groups and regulated Ecclesiastic influence on civilians—which certainly made him unpopular with his original supporters.Art historians tend to be cautious with their judgments, stressing the continuity on San Carlos Academy trough its curriculum, academic cluster and board, all of them dramatically modified with the Republic’s restoration.

For instance, Eduardo Báez Macías, in his volume History of the National School of Fine Arts (Old San Carlos Academy), mentions Maximilian’s patronizing attitude towards Mexican art, believing it to be provincial to what he was used to in Europe.  

My personal view is the opposite. Maximilian was a very intelligent ruler, he was aware of the necessity of his government’s legitimacy, and knew that the main way to achieved it was through art and Court protocol. In the first case, he arose from the liberal vs. conservative´s discussion over national heroes and entrusted several talented young artists to create a portrait gallery of the libertadores, including characters such as Hidalgo and Iturbide along. Also, in several Imperial projects he preferred to employ talented Mexican students over well-known established European teachers as Eugenio Landesio or Pelegrín Clavé.

C.M. MAYO: Which of all the 68 pieces do you consider the most essential for understanding Rebull and his place in Mexican art?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: Santiago Rebull is one of the most relevant XIX century painters in Mexico’s history. He is a fundamental artist of the Academicism generation, and keystone to understanding the shift in the Art Scene towards the Vanguards and the Mexican Painting School of XX century, since he was an inexhaustible teacher to many of its participants. 

One of Santiago Rebull’s anchor pieces is La muerte de Abel (Abel’s Death). It was painted in 1851 and earned him a scholarship to travel to Rome.

Santiago Rebull, La muerte de Abel, 1851

He there attended the San Lucas Academy, a conservative catholic art school that followed the principles of the Nazarene Movement, specially influenced by the German painter Johann Friedrich Overbeck. Rebull studied under the guidance of Academic artist Thomaso Consoni, who molded and perfected his technique through a careful series of exercises consisting on copying masterpieces from Renaissance maestros. Therefore, La muerte de Abel best represents the Academic ideals of trace, color use and proportions so faithfully followed by Rebull. 


C.M. MAYO: Was it difficult to find these 68 pieces, and were there any you couldn’t get for the show that you wish you had?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: Unfortunately there was a piece we were unable to obtain, El sacrificio de Isaac (Isaac’s Sacrifice) painted in 1858 during his sojourn in Italy and displayed in the Centennial Exposition of Philadelphia and later shown in New Orleans. The image is almost 118 inches tall and it’s a flawless sample of Rebull´s work during this formative voyage under Consoni’s guidance. Alas, it was a crucial piece in the National Museum of Art (MUNAL), therefore, they were unable to lend it.

Santiago Rebull, El sacrificio de Isaac, 1859

It was relatively unproblematic to secure the greater part of the assortment since it belongs to the painter’s descendants, most of them eager to promote their ancestor’s work. The rest of the pieces were graciously provided by significant institutions such as the San Carlos Academy, the National Museum of Art and the Colegio de Vizcaínas.

C.M. MAYO: Was the museum at Il Castillo di Miramar involved in any way? The original of Rebull’s portrait of the Emperor Maximilian was sent there, is that right?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The original full length portrait of Maximilian was painted by Santiago Rebull in 1865. The Emperor took such pleasure on it that resulted on the appointment of Rebull as court painter; he was also awarded the Order of Guadalupe, the Empire’s uppermost honor. The monarch relocated the painting in Miramar Castle in Trieste, Italy that same year. Nonetheless he commissioned Joaquín Ramírez, another Academic painter to produce an exact copy of his portrait. Currently, the latter is part of the National Institute of Fine Arts collection and it’s shown at Chapultepec Castle. We exhibit a contemporary reproduction of Ramírez painting.

Joaquín Ramírez, Portrait of Emperor Maximilian I, ca. 1866. 

C.M. MAYO: The decorative bacchantes that Rebull painted for Chapultepec Castle– were these Maximilian’s idea or the artist’s? What do you think was the message of such decorative paintings?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The decorative bacchantes of Miravalle (Chapultepec) Castle were the Emperor’s idea but Rebull only painted four of them during Maximilian’s reign since the remaining two were created later, during President Porfirio Díaz administration when he occupied the castle as his summer residence.

The message behind the bacchantes is clear: the ideal of graciousness that courtesan life implied. Maximilian was convinced that through art and elaborate court rituals his regime would gain the legitimacy and acceptance of Mexican elites. The creation of new titles, honors and reinstated old colonial titles were strategies followed by the sovereign. Thus, art and protocol were undeniably intertwined in the imperial residences.

Santiago Rebull, Bacante para la terraza del Alcázar de Chapultepec, 1894

In the words of art historian Justino Fernández “Rebull planned six bacchantes figures […] the romanticism of the epoch finds here one of its classical expressions, these women, or better said, demigoddesses, highly idealized, wear the magnificence of their figure, in a movement attitude.” *
*Justino Fernández. El arte del siglo XIX en México, Mexico, Imprenta Universitaria, 1967,  p. 77.


C.M. MAYO: What do you consider Rebull’s most essential achievements as an artist?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: His personal career is bound to the history of San Carlos Academy; we may consider him as a founding painter of Mexican art of the first decades of independence, when the elite and middle classes were shaping an identity of their own, which they found in the expressions of Academicism and Neoclassic Art. 

He perfected his education with the European sojourn—not remaining solely in Rome, but traveling extensively through Spain—and returned with a refined paintbrush imbibed by Purism and Nazarene precepts.

The preparative drawings are a testament of Rebull’s expertise of trace and copying, the two cornerstone of a XIX century Academic education. Upon his return he grew as a prolific portraitist, the most important being that of Emperor Maximilian.

But his talent was enjoyed not only by royals; both Presidents Benito Juárez and Porfirio Díaz were also depicted by the artist. The latter, is embodied as a young aspiring president, unlike later representations where an elderly and heavily ornamented military men is shown. Furthermore, common and quotidian characters were also portrayed by him.

Santiago Rebull, Portrait of Porfirio Díaz, 1872
Santiago Rebull, Portrait of an unknown man, undated

C.M. MAYO: Why is the show in the Museo de Diego Rivera? Can you talk a little about Rebull’s influence on Diego Rivera?

ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: Since the Museo Mural Diego Rivera has the commitment of preserving Diego Rivera’s legacy, promoting the artistic expressions created during the XX century and especially those influenced by Rivera himself, we thought there was a great breach with his predecessors. Who were they? Who particularly influenced him?

Rivera was educated at the San Carlos Academy of Arts in Mexico City where he was an accomplished student, tutored by the great artists of the XIX century Academic movement. He received a refined instruction from painters such as José Salomé Pina, José María Velasco and Santiago Rebull. Diego always felt in debt towards the latter, recognizing him as his mentor.

Santiago Rebull, Profeta Elymar, 1853
Diego Rivera, Cabeza masculina, 1900

Biographers International Interview with C.M. Mayo: 
Strange Spark of the Mexican Revolution

A Conversation with M.M. McAllen about Maximilian and Carlota

Five Techniques for a Journey to Einfühlung

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C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Why Translate? The Case of the President of Mexico’s Secret Book

Just back from ALTA, the American Literary Translators Association conference held this year in (brrr) Milwaukee, which had the theme “Politics & Translation.” If you’ve been following this blog, you’ve already read reams about my latest book which is, indeed, about politics: Metaphysical Odyssey into the Mexican Revolution: Francisco I. Madero and His Secret Book, Spiritist Manual.

Visit the book’s webpage here.

At ALTA, I spoke on two panels and read an excerpt from my translation of a work by Mexico’s great novelist and short story writer Ignacio Solares. (Had the scheduling permitted, I would have loved to have also shared new translations of works by Mexican writers Agustin Cadena and Rose Mary Salum. Here’s to ALTA in Tucson, Arizona in 2015!) 

Herewith the transcript of my talk for the second panel, “Why Translate?”

WHY TRANSLATE?
THE CASE OF THE
PRESIDENT OF MEXICO’S SECRET BOOK

A (slightly edited and expanded) transcript of C.M. Mayo’s talk for the panel “Why Translate?” 
American Literary Translation Association (ALTA) Conference
Milwaukee, November 15, 2014

I translate for the same reasons that I write. There are many, but we have limited time, so I will focus on two, which are: I want to understand, and I want to share that understanding. 

Sharing might just be with myself, as in a diary entry, or with a cadre of of loyal readers and any Internet surfers who happen onto this blog, Madam Mayo. Sharing ramps up, of course, when we start talking about books. 

People have many different and varied motivations for writing and publishing books— and for some, one of them is nothing less than to change the world. Or maybe, to change our understanding of some aspect of the world— and so change the world.

FRANCISCO I. MADERO, President of Mexico, 1911-1913

TWO SYSTEMS: 
THE HEAVILY INTERMEDIATED AND THE RELATIVELY DIRECT


Whether in its original language or as a translation, a book is a vector for a set of ideas, a very unusual and efficient vector, for it can zing ideas from mind to mind, spreading out over great distances and, potentially, far into the future. 

Books can travel through two systems, or rather, an array of systems: at one extreme, the heavily intermediated, and at the other, the direct.

Our commercial publishing industry constitutes that first extreme. To give a stylized example, a book comes into the hands of an agent, then an acquiring editor, perhaps a developmental editor, a copyeditor, a book designer, a formatter, a cover designer, the proofreader, the printer, the delivery truck driver, the warehouse employees, the distributor, the sales rep, the bookstore’s buyer, and so on and so forth until, finally, the cashier hands the book to its reader. Very possibly multiple corporate entities and dozens of individuals play some role in bringing a book to any given reader. 

At the other extreme, I scribble on a piece of paper and hand it to you. 

I submit that we tend to over focus on this heavily intermediated system; we often overlook the fact that it is not the only or even necessarily the best way for a book to fulfill its purpose.

TWO BOOKS BY FRANCISCO I. MADERO

I’m going to focus on two books, both political, both by Francisco I. Madero. 

If you are at all familiar with Mexican history, Francisco I. Madero needs no introduction. If Mexican history is a mystery to you, the main thing you need to know is that Madero was the leader of Mexico’s 1910 Revolution and President of Mexico from 1911 to 1913. 

His first book, La sucesión presidencial en 1910, or The Presidential Succession in 1910, published in 1909, served as his political platform in challenging the old regime. Though it was after the stolen elections of 1910 that Madero declared the Revolution on November 20, 1910, informally, we could say that the Revolution was launched with this book. 

The first page of Madero’s La sucesion presidencial en 1910. “To the heroes of our country; to the independent journalists; to the good Mexicans”
Francisco I. Madero’s secret book, Manual espírita, written 1909-1910 and published in 1911.

Madero’s second book is Manual espírita or Spiritist Manual, which he finished writing as he was preparing for the Revolution; it began to circulate in 1911, when he was president-elect. It is this second book which I translated, and my book about that book, which includes the translation, is Metaphysical Odyssey into the Mexican Revolution: Francisco I. Madero and His Secret Book, Spiritist Manual. 

Apropos of Madero’s two books and the two systems to bring a book to its readers, the heavily intermediated and the relatively direct, a bit from the opening of chapter 2 of my book, Metaphysical Odyssey into the Mexican Revolution:

When we talk about a “successful book,” usually what we mean is one that has a brand-name publisher, enjoys prime shelf space in bookstores, and earns its author buckets of royalties. In other words, we talk about it as a commodity—or, if we’re a mite more sophisticated, a hybrid commodity / work of art / scholarship. I say “we” because I am writing and I presume you are reading this in a time and place where books are no longer banned by the government, their authors no longer casually imprisoned—or worse. Lulled by endless streams of made-for-the-movies thrillers and romances, we forget that, as Ray Bradbury put it, “A book is a loaded gun.” 

Francisco I. Madero intended his Manual espírita to be a beam of light, to heal Mexico and the world with his consoling concepts of the nature and meaning of life. However, it is a book that stands on the shoulders of his first book that was, indeed, a loaded gun: La sucesión presidencial en 1910, published in the winter of 1909 when Don Porfirio Díaz, the dictator who had stolen the presidency in a coup d’état and ruled Mexico on and off for over thirty years, was about to celebrate his eightieth birthday and, as Mexico’s so-called “necessary man,” take for himself a seventh term.

Madero had no interest in the capitalist concept of a book’s success; he wanted La sucesión presidencial en 1910 in people’s hands, and as fast as possible, and for that he did not need bookstores, he needed a jump-start on Don Porfirio’s police. He paid for the printing himself (a first edition of 3,000, and later more) and, as he noted in a letter:

[T]he first precaution I took was to hand out 800 copies to members of the press and intellectuals throughout Mexico, so when the Government got wind of the book’s circulation, it would be too late to stop it. . .

MADERO’S SECOND, SECRET BOOK

Now when we come to Madero’s second book, Manual espírita, or Spiritist Manual, there are two reasons the subtitle of my book calls it his “secret book”: First, he wrote it under a pseudonym; second, incredible as it may sound, for the most part, historians have ignored it. A few have begrudged it a footnote; only a very few— so few that I can count them on one hand— have dared to write about it in any depth and seriousness. 

The 1924 edition published by Casa Editorial Maucci
in Barcelona

In 1911 five thousand copies of Madero’s Manual espírita went into circulation, one assumes, among Spiritists. It was reprinted in part by Madero’s enemies, the Reyistas, as an attack– their message being, “Madero is the true author, you see what a nut he is.” And I discovered that in 1924 Casa Editorial Maucci in Barcelona brought out a reprint (print run unknown). I do not know what influence the Manual espírita may or may not have had in spreading Spiritism, whether in Mexico or abroad—it would make a fine PhD dissertation to delve into that question— but as far as historians of Mexico are concerned, until very recently, and apart from a very few and very hard-to-find editions published in Mexico, essentially, the Manual espírita disappeared into the ethers. 

In 2011, one hundred years after its publication, I published the first English translation as a Kindle. Earlier this year, 2014, I published my book about the book, which includes Madero’s book, under the title Metaphysical Odyssey into the Mexican Revolution: Francisco I. Madero and His Secret Book, Spiritist Manual in both Kindle and paperback editions.And like Madero himself with both his books, I self-published.

THE WHYS AND WHEREFORES OF A PUBLISHING STRATEGY


I hasten to clarify that I did not self-publish after a string of rejections. I have already published several books, two with university presses and two with major commercial publishers, among others, so I know that, with patience and persistence, should those have proved necessary, my work would have found a home. My decision to self-publish was a deeply thought-out strategy, specific to my circumstances and specific to this title. In short,  I decided to skip the heavily intermediated system, which for this book probably would have been a university press. My three reasons:

First, I am not an academic angling for tenure, and as I have already published several books, as a writer and a translator I did not see much to gain by going to a traditional publisher, and in fact I had a lot to lose, mainly time and control;

Second, in English, alas (would that it were otherwise) books on Mexico are not particularly commercial, which makes me suspect that, whatever its merits may or may not be, mine would have taken a shoulder-saggingly long time to bring forth a contract I would have been willing to sign;

Third, for many readers, Spiritism is at once disturbing and beneath their notice. Let’s say, all this concern with the Afterlife and communicating with the dead creeps them out, as would a book on, oh, alien abductions or crop circles. And I believe this explains why even many of the leading historians of the Mexican Revolution do not know about Madero’s Spiritism, or know next to nothing about it. To give you an idea, one major textbook does not deign to mention it, while another textbook, also published by an important university press, blithely labels Madero an atheist, which is rather like calling the Pope of Rome a Protestant.

In our day, what we think of as self-publishing usually includes intermediaries such as amazon.com. In my case this would be amazon.com and Ingram. Ingram’s recent move into the realm of self-publishing is really the topic for another panel, but suffice it to say that for traditional publishing, no exaggeration, this is as momentous as Hiroshima. Ingram is a major book distributor and now also an on-demand book printer, and what listing with Ingram means is that all major on-line booksellers can now, on demand, easily source that self-published book. Libraries can order it, just as they order many of their books from Ingram, and while Barnes & Noble as well as many other major bookstore chains and independent bookstores may not necessarily stock it on their shelves, it’s right there, as easy to order as any other book, on their webpages—again, sourced from Ingram. 

As for getting my book into people’s hands, that is a challenge, for without a publisher, I do not have a marketing staff and sales reps. Like Madero with his La sucesión presidencial en 1910, I simply identified key individuals and gave each a copy. These individuals, mainly but not exclusively academics, are experts on Madero, on the Mexican Revolution, Mexican history in general, the history of metaphysical religion, and Masonry (Madero was a Mason).

The process of the book, my little turtle, finding its readers may be a long and winding one, but it is underway [see reviews] and I feel no urge to hurry. Unlike a traditionally published book, which must dash out like a rabbit, digitally available books (ebooks and print-on-demand paperbacks sold on-line) are not so heavily dependent on “buzz” generated to coincide with the fleeting moment when a book, thanks to the efforts of marketing staff and sales reps, might be available on physical shelves in brick-and-mortar bookstores. Like grocery stores, brick-and-mortar bookstores must move their merchandize with the seasons and oftentimes, as with the proverbial cottage cheese, even more quickly. Digital bookshelves, however, are of a different nature; at the click of a button, they can unfurl vast dimensions, additions to which impose a marginal cost approaching, or in fact, zero. Now if, on a Tuesday at 4 am, say, seven months or, say, seven years in the future, someone in Oodnadatta, Australia wants to download my Kindle or order my print-on-demand paperback, with a click, he can do just that. 

BLASTING THE SOMBRERO OFF THE PARADIGM
OF THE MEXICAN REVOLUTION


Will my book with its translation of Madero’s Spiritist Manual change our understanding of Mexican history? Well, I do think it blasts the sombrero off the reigning paradigm to consider that Francisco I. Madero, the leader of Mexico’s 1910 Revolution— an absolutely transformative episode in Mexican history and the first major revolution of the 20th century—was a not only a Spiritist but a leading Spiritist and a Spiritist medium (and, it all relates, a devoted student of the Hindu holy text known as the Bhagavad Gita).

Madero believed that he was channeling written instructions and encouragement from spirits in writing both of his books, and furthermore, in his Spiritist Manual, he detailed his beliefs about such esoterica as astral travel and interplanetary reincarnation, and the moral duty of political action. 

For anyone who chooses to open their eyes and look at the overwhelming evidence, the connection between Madero’s beliefs and his politics is clear. As Mexican historian Enrique Krauze writes in his seminal 1987 biography, Francisco I. Madero: Místico de la libertad, in the case of Madero, “Politics does not displace Spiritism; it is born of it.”

I do not deny other motives and the millions of other participants in that Revolution. But its spark, and the way it played out, and, I believe, Madero’s murder, are a radically different story once we take into account his Spiritism.

My aim with my book and my translation of Madero’s book is to deepen our understanding of Madero, both as an individual and as a political figure; and at the same time, deepen our understanding of the rich esoteric matrix from which his ideas sprang, in other words, not to promote his ideas nor disparage them, but explain them and give them context. 

It is also then my aim to deepen our understanding of the 1910 Revolution and therefore of Mexico itself, and because the histories are intertwined, therefore also deepen our understanding of North America, Latin America, the Pacific Rim, and more— for as long as a book exists, should someone happen to read it, it can catalyze change in understanding (and other changes) that ripple out, endlessly. 

Such is the wonder, the magical embryonic power of a book, any book, whether original or in translation: that, even as it rests on a dusty shelf for a hundred years, or for that matter, an unvisited digital “shelf,” if it can be found, if it can be read, it holds such potential.

Podcast: C.M. Mayo at UCSD’s Center for US-Mexican Studies

Translating Across the Border

What Is Writing (Really)? Plus Yours Truly Talking About Four Exceeding Rare Books Essential for Scholars of the Mexican Revolution

Find out more about
C.M. Mayo’s books, articles, podcasts, and more.

Guest-Blogger Short Story Maestro Clifford Garstang on 5 Favorite Novels About a Dangerous World

Guest-blogger Clifford Garstang is the author of In an Uncharted Country and What the Zhang Boys Know (Winner of the 2013 Library of Virginia Award for Fiction) and editor of Everywhere Stories: Short Fiction from a Small Planet, an anthology of 20 stories set in 20 countries by 20 well-travelled writers. Here’s the description:

“Assembled from over six hundred submissions, this collection reminds us that our world is dangerous: a man disappears in Argentina, despair reigns in post-Katrina New Orleans, teen bandits attack in Costa Rica, wild boars swarm in a German forest, biker gangs battle in New Zealand, security guards overreact in Beijing, rogue militias run wild in Africa, and more. These are not ordinary travel stories by or about tourists; the contributors are award-winning authors who know their way around—former Peace Corps Volunteers, international aid workers, expatriates—and dig deep beneath the surface. “

FIVE FAVORITE NOVELS
ABOUT A DANGEROUS WORLD
by Clifford Garstang

Some of my favorite American writers create dark stories set abroad. That’s what I like to read and it inevitably informs my own writing and my selections for the book. Here are 5 of the best:

Ann Patchett’s State of Wonder
I also liked Patchett’s earlier novel set in South America, Bel Canto, but this book, set in Brazil, really grabbed me—it has mystery, a heroic structure, and explores fascinating, credible science. One researcher has gone missing and another goes searching for him in the heart of darkness—classic. 

Russell Banks’s The Darling
Set in Liberia, Banks’s novel (which is said to be based loosely on The Tempest) explores failures of both American and Liberian governments. A former member of the Weather Underground faces exposure back home, but also faces a near-constant civil war in her adopted home.

Barbara Kingsolver’s The Lacuna
Kingsolver’s agenda-driven fiction isn’t for everyone, but I was drawn to this novel, set mostly in Mexico. Having grown close to Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera in Mexico City, the protagonist settles in the U.S. and attracts the scrutiny of the Joseph McCarthy’s House Un-American Activities Committees.

Robert Stone’s Damascus Gate
This is a sprawling book that explores the history of Israel and the forces that would destroy it. The book is a fascinating look at one of the Middle East’s most dangerous flashpoints.

Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried 
Like O’Brien’s fantastic Going After Cacciato, which won the National Book Award, The Things They Carried explores the horror of the Vietnam War and the intense personal toll it takes on all. 

— Clifford Garstang

Q & A: Clifford Garstang, Author of The Shaman of Turtle Valley

“What Happened to the Dog?” A Story About a Typewriter, Actually, Typed on a 1967 Hermes 3000

Why Translate? The Case of the President of Mexico’s Secret Book

12 Tips for Summer Day Hiking in the Desert (How to Stay Cool and Avoid Actinic Keratosis, Blood, and Killer Bees)

C’est moi on (whew) August 30, 2014 at Meyers Spring, an important rock art site of the Lower Pecos, on the US-Mexico border near Dryden, Texas. As you can see, in my left hand, I am carrying a
white umbrella. So I didn’t need the hat. And that black backpack wasn’t the best idea. I also should have worn a lightweight bandana. Oh, and more sunblock. Always more sunblock. The long-sleeved white shirt and hiking trousers were both excellent choices, however.

Just returned from hiking with the Rock Art Foundation in to see the spectacular rock art at Meyers Spring in the Lower Pecos of Far West Texas (yes, there will be a podcast in the Marfa Mondays Podcasting Project, in which I exploring the Big Bend & Beyond in 24 podcasts. More about that anon). 

UPDATE: Listen in to the podcast interview recorded at Meyers Springs, “Gifts of the Ancient Ones: Greg Williams on the Rock Art of the Lower Pecos Canyonlands”

I got a few things very right on this trip and a few things, well, I could have done better. Herewith, for you, and for me– this will serve as my own checklist for my next rock art foray– 12 tips for summer day hiking in the desert:


1. Don’t just bring water, lots of water, more water than you think you can possibly drink– bring it cold and keep it cold.

Everest Lumbar Waistpack

Of course, not drinking enough water can be seriously dangerous. But warm water when it’s this hot is just bleh–and if you’re carrying a plain old plastic water bottle in your hand, out here in Texas, boy howdy… (Last year, I hiked this way over Burro Mesa in the Big Bend National Park. Six hours. Head-slapper.)

The thing is, you don’t just want to hydrate; you want to keep your core from overheating, so every swig of cold water really helps. Before heading out, fill your insulated water bottles with lots of ice. In your car, keep them in an ice chest or, if that’s not possible, wrapped in a blanket, or whatever’s handy, until the moment you have to take them out. I did this for the first time, and wow, what a difference. 

> Recommended: Camelback lightweight insulated water bottle

> Recommended: Everest lumbar waist pack that holds two bottles (and carry a third in-hand).

2. Slather on the sunblock.

Yes, sun block stinks and feels gross, but if you’re like me — a descendant of those who once roamed the foggy bogs of the British Isles– if you don’t, you may end up helping your dermatologist buy his ski condo. And no, he probably won’t invite you.

> Watch this fun video, “How the Sun Sees You.”

> For those with actinic keratosis (that’s the fancy term for seriously sun-damaged skin), try Perrin’s Blend. If that doesn’t work, off to the dermatologist you must go. 

> Here’s how a bald guy, Tony Overbay, dealt with actinic keratosis using the latest in dermatologist-recommended chemotherapy (uyy, I am hoping my Perrin’s Blend works…)

>Recommended: Whole Foods article on how to choose the best sunscreen.

3. Wear a long sleeved white collared shirt.


This protects you against the sun, keeps you cool (the white reflects the sun), protects you from bug bites and scratches. Light clothes always beat dark! Flip the collar up to protect your neck. About scratches: the desert tends to be filled with cactus and thorny scrub. 

4. Knot a light-colored scarf around your throat.


This protects you from the sun. A bandana works fine. Mike Clelland (more about the guru in a moment) suggests cutting the bandana in two, so it’s lighter. Porquoi pas? But I didn’t do this. Alas. Bring on the Perrin’s.

5. Wear tough but lightweight trekking trousers.


For the same reason you want to wear the long-sleeved white shirt: trousers protect your body parts, in this case, calves and knees, from sun, scratches, and bugs. Do not wear shorts unless, for some reason you probably should be working on with your psychiatrist, you don’t mind scarring and blood.

And do not wear jeans. I repeat, do not wear jeans. 

> Recommended: Northface trekking convertible trousers.

6. Keep your pack as light as possible, in both senses.


Hey, you’ve not only gotta stay cool, but you’ve gotta hump all that water! 

A few specifics:

> Use a lightweight pack and carry it on your hips, rather than the flat of your back (see photo of lumbar waist pack above). This helps keep your back cool. But I don’t speak from experience on this one: I’m going to try this for next time.

> Carry lightweight insulated water bottles.

> Ditch the hat and ditch the heavy hiking boots (more about that below. There are, of course, other places and times when a hat and hiking books would be advisable).

> Skip the camera or use a lightweight camera (I use my iPhone).

> Eat a light breakfast and bring only a little food– since this is a day hike, you can eat a big dinner when you get back. But you will need sustenance on the trail. I recommend date, fruit and nut bars– love those Lara bars— that is, food that is high in energy but won’t spoil in the heat, and that doesn’t require any dishes or utensils. Don’t bring anything with chocolate in it. (I brought a Snicker’s bar. Ooey… gooey.)

>Bring a white plastic grocery bag and use it to cover your pack. Two advantages: the white reflects sunlight and keeps it cooler than, say, an unprotected black or other dark-colored pack, and, in case of rain, will help keep it dry. 

> Highly recommended: Mike Clelland’s Ultralight Backpackin’ Tips, a superb resource for keeping it lighter-than-light, yet making sure to bring what you need for comfort and safety. 


> And be sure to visit Clelland’s blog for many helpful videos and more.

7. Watch out for killer bees!


Africanized bees have arrived in some desert locales north of the Mexican border. What do bees want? Sweet things and water. So don’t carry around open cans or bottles or suddenly pick up open cans or bottles– bees may smell the water or soft drink from afar, crawl inside, and then, if you do anything they don’t like, such as pick up that can, they will go bezerk, and call in their buddies who will also go bezerk and might sting you hundreds of times.

No kidding, people and animals have died from killer bee attacks.

So be especially careful around any blooming plants where bees might be feeding. Ditto any open water, such as a tank, spring, or any puddle. And whatever you do, if you see a hive, don’t go anywhere near it. Normal honey bees, however, are not a problem. Unless you have a severe allergy, a few stings might actually be good for you! (Read more about bee sting therapy on the Apitherapy Association webpage). Your real problem is, it’s hard to tell the killers from the honeys until they attack. 

8. Wear gaiters.

I followed Mike Clelland’s tip and bought a pair from Dirty Girl Gaiters (they’re for guys, too). They weigh about as much as a feather, they’re easy to attach to your lace-up running shoes and indeed, they keep the dust out.

Their biggest advantage is that you can therefore avoid wearing those ankle-high and heavy hiking boots. You’ll exert yourself less and therefore, on the margin, stay cooler. (I’ll admit however that on this last hike, a loose ball of bubble-gum cactus went right through the gaiters and stabbed me in the ankle. Oh well!)

www.dirtygirlgaiters.com

9. Forget the hat and trekking pole; use a white umbrella.


Really! Who cares if it looks nerdy? It’s nerdier to pass out from  heat stroke or end up looking like a tomato. So let those guys in jeans, black T-shirts, and baseball caps cackle all they want, as they sweat & burn & chafe.

The white umbrella protects you from sun and the rain and– crucially– helps keep your head cool. A hat will trap heat on your head– not what you want out here. Plus, in a tight spot, you can also use the umbrella as a trekking pole. Added bonus: scares mountain lions. I would think. Don’t take my word for that, however. Also good, once folded, to toss a rattlesnake or tarantula. Not that I’ve had to do that, either. Just saying.

> Golight Chrome Dome Trekking Umbrella

> Francis Tapon on Why Go Hiking with an Umbrella

Cootie alert! But this white cotton parasol worked for me.

10. To avoid chafing, first apply an anti-chafe roll-on or cream.

Fortunately for me, I don’t have this problem, but a lot of people do. Why suffer?

> See Top Chafing Prevention Products

11.  Take it slow and rest often.

In shade, if possible. (Oh, right, you have your umbrella!)

12. In your car, leave a reflector open on your car’s dashboard and another over your stash of cold water.

If you’ve had to park outside, after a day of baking out in the desert, it’s going to be an authentic Finnish sauna in there– unless you use a dashboard reflector. In which case it will still be a chocolate-bar-melting warm, but infinitely more bearable. I picked up my pair of dashboard reflectors at Walgreen’s for $3.99 each and I was glad indeed that I did. Certainly, you could also just use ye olde roll of aluminum foil.

Notes on Tom Lea and His Epic Masterpiece of a Western, The Wonderful Country

Podcast: Cynthia McAllister with the Buzz on the Bees

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