The Elements of San Joaquin: Poems

By Gary Soto

Expanded from the award-winning Chicano poet’s 1977 original, this poetry collection explores the hardships and joys of migrant workers in California.

A timely new edition of a pioneering work in Latino literature, National Book Award–nominee Gary Soto’s first collection (originally published in 1977) draws on California’s fertile San Joaquin Valley, the people, the place, and the hard agricultural work done there by immigrants. In these poems, joy and anger, violence and hope are placed in both the metaphorical and very real circumstances of the Valley. Rooted in personal experiences—of the poet as a young man, his friends, family, and neighbors—the poems are spare but expansive, with Soto’s voice as important as ever. This welcome new edition has been expanded with a crucial selection of complementary poems (some previously unpublished) and a new introduction by the author.

Praise for The Elements of San Joaquin

“A response to the charged, ideologically defiant voices from the seventies, The Elements of San Joaquin forever changed the course of Latino literature, redirecting us toward the mundane and ephemeral. The poet’s only commitment, Gary Soto seemed to suggest, is to life itself. His teacher and role model was Philip Levine, who encouraged him to see his own neighborhood, indeed his own backyard, as a kingdom. The result was a type of poetry that weathered inclement times in ways that scores of other instant “hits” couldn’t. It was new yet as old as the Bible and it still is. The word “classic” is overused these days. Not in this case.” —Ilan Stavans, Lewis-Sebring Professor in the Humanities, Latin American and Latino Culture at Amherst College, and general editor of The Norton Anthology of Latino Literature

“In the original The Elements of San Joaquin, Gary Soto defined the Chicano character as an underrepresented part of the American whole, the identity that would serve as foundation for my life’s work. My parents and grandparents had crossed borders, but Soto rooted me, us, here—in the daily poverty of mejicano vecindades—on all those rural “Braly Streets” of Fresno, Brawley, and Salinas. His elements of sun, wind, stars, and field shadowed my own destiny to bring justice there, to the people of the hoe and harvest.” —José Padilla, Executive Director of California Rural Legal Assistance

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781452170268

Gary Soto

Gary Soto's first book for young readers, Baseball in April and Other Stories, won the California Library Association's Beatty Award and was named an ALA Best Book for Young Adults. He has since published many novels, short stories, plays, and poetry collections for adults and young people. He lives in Berkeley, California. Visit his website at garysoto.com.

Book preview

Introduction

In spring 1972, I wrote my first poem, Little League Tryouts. As I considered this pile of lines, I was momentarily astonished that they had come from my own pencil. I was twenty, long-haired, thin as my first literary effort, and secretly hoarding this activity—poetry. Poetry in my family? My family were farmworkers, warehousemen, janitors, egg candlers and industrial potato peelers, and, in the case of my grandfather, security guard at the Sun Maid Raisin factory. The factory was not far from where we lived—and by not far, I mean two blocks away. At night, we could hear its machinery and the grinding gears of the trucks that rounded the corners of Braly Street and Van Ness Avenue. These sounds and sights became sources for my young poet self.

I wrote using the backs of album covers as my portable desk, and listened to the messaging lyrics of the record albums—Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Simon and Garfunkel, Santana, T-Rex, early Fleetwood Mac. I was beginning to think like a poet, dress like a poet, and consider myself as one of the many poets from Fresno, then and now a place known for its literary output, due in part to Philip Levine, with whom I took two classes. He critiqued twelve poems of mine in a single academic year, though his no-nonsense instruction spoke to me over many seasons of my writing life. Those twelve poems became the core of The Elements of San Joaquin, a book completed when I was twenty-three, with the sweat perpetrated not by physical labor but by the worry of getting the grammar right. And who helped get it right? Aside from this first teacher, I count poets Christopher Buckley and Jon Veinberg, amigos from the start, and my wife, Carolyn, who first lent me a Joan Baez album cover on which to write these poems.

As a poet, I considered the San Joaquin Valley a place of wonderment—yes, wonderment—as I had suddenly admitted my emotional attachment to my old neighborhood on Braly Street, the setting of the poems in section three. I don’t know how other poets harbor memory, but until I was in my mid-thirties I could conjure up the smallest details from childhood, from the stench of a chinaberry crushed underfoot to the death of red ants by the quick push of my thumb—quick because to go slow risked a vicious ant bite. I recall the blossoms from our apricot tree, the Molina family up the alley, the free sodas from the 7-Up Bottling Company, the free pickles from Coleman Pickles, the length of afternoon shadows in summer, a junkyard dog, a noiseless blimp, the neighbor’s outhouse, a hot dime picked up out of asphalt, the bubbled blister from playing with matches, my brother and I inside the television—inside the television? This was 1956. When a TV was on the blink, the repairman took the large picture tube and all the electrical workings from the cabinet, leaving behind an eye socket and a place for us to crawl into for fun. So we could say that we were not on television, but in television.

There’s no mystery that the economic tractor of the San Joaquin Valley is agribusiness, and, despite mechanization, fieldworkers are necessary—without fieldworkers, all immigrants, there would be no crops or livestock, and finally, nothing on dinner tables or for foodies to

Reviews for The Elements of San Joaquin

[hazeleyeflgal · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I was pleased to get a copy of The Elements of San Joaquin by Gary Soto. I enjoy poetry, but these seem very dark to me. I could not get into the feelings of the poems. I'm sure they are very meaningful to the author, but I enjoy things that are more uplifting. However, the writing is well done and very thought provoking.

[ladycato · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received this book through the LibraryThing Early Reviewer's program.This re-release of this book of poetry, first published in 1977, is an absolute treasure. I'm a poet born and raised in the San Joaquin Valley, not far from where Soto was raised. While I don't share his experience in a Hispanic upbringing, I related strongly to most every poem because he was talking about my home. My land, my neighbors, the smell of the place, the fog, the joy and the toil of the soil. The Sun-Maid Factory that he lived next to was is where I went for a 3rd grade field trip! Even if I didn't share a home region with the author, I would admire the way he wields language. I can't even count how many times I read a line in this book and thought, 'Wow.' A few of my favorite snippets:from Piedra:"The dark water wrinklingLike the mouth of an old auntie whispering Lord"from Remedies:"It won't be long before the painNapping inside youYawns and blinks awakeAnd Grandma hums prays hums"I will be holding on to this book for insight and inspiration, and I now want to read more of Soto's poetry. Quite frankly, I'm in awe of him. He wrote most of these poems when he was quite young, too. I would very much like to see how his voice matured.

[pardamustang · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Elements of San Joaquin by Gary Soto is a beautiful, haunting collection of poems. Divided into three sections, these poems focus on different aspects. Part one is full of gritty poems illuminating the stark reality of the poor and disenfranchised. One of the most haunting among this section is 'The Morning They Shot Tony Lopez, Barber and Pusher Went Too Far’. For me, this is because, though circumstances may have differed, it brought memories of my cousin's murder. Part Two focuses on scenes of nature and agriculture. Yet, even here, there are echoes and shouts speaking to the futility of life. One of the most evocative is near the beginning of the section, and this is 'Weeds’, emphasising both that futility, as of the farmer trying tirelessly to be rid of weeds, and of life’s tenacity, for weeds are notoriously difficult to extinguish. The last part returns to human experience, looking back to a childhood fading. Highly recommended for all who enjoy well-wrought poetry.***Many thanks to Netgalley and Chronicle Books for providing an egalley in exchange for a fair and honest review.

[joecottonwood · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I met Gary a long time ago (1990's) at an author gig where we were on the same panel. I'm sure he doesn't remember me, but I remember him as open, friendly, vulnerable. I liked him immediately. The poems in this early collection were written 20 years before that meeting. These are the poems of an angry young man, but also a man who is open and vulnerable and clearly talented at writing. Subjects include rape, field work, poverty, hard times. And occasionally, the wonder of the world:StarsAt dusk the first stars appear.Not one eager finger points toward them.A little later the stars spread with the nightAnd an orange moon risesTo lead them, like a shepherd, toward dawn.In another poem he writes:One hundred years from nowThere should be no reason to believeI lived.Not so, Gary, not so...