El Viejo by Edward Vidaurre

Title: El Viejo 
Author: Edward Vidaurre 
Publisher: El Martillo Press 
ISBN: 979-8-3493-8312-0 
Genre: Poetry 

Earlier in the year, during the creative nonfiction class I took, the professor, José Antonio Rodríguez, spoke about his admiration for poetry. Rodríguez is, of course, a poet himself. But something he said struck me—embedded itself into my memory. I can’t quote him verbatim (though, I do wish I had the foresight to write down his sentence), but it went something like this: when you read a great poem, it inspires you to write one of your own.  

I came back to that idea multiple times while reading Edward Vidaurre’s El Viejo. From the first poem, from which the book received its title, I found myself writing down notes in the travel journal I carry folded in my back pocket. The origins of a poem (or several) inspired by his work.  

I find it difficult to “review” books written by friends or colleagues. How much of what I say will be read as personal bias? Still, believe me when I say that the imagery Vidaurre uses to speak on his personal experiences transported me. I did not walk through the barrios he wrote about—hell, I never lived in one—but the fears he and his family carried reminded me of those I felt once when the threat of gang violence felt like a looming presence. Not to mention that disconnection from his estranged father upon learning of his death transported me back to Amara hospice where I sat beside my own and how I felt that, despite his absence, he was always just around the corner no matter how far away he was. 

You may not relate to all his experiences—his griefs, his depressions—but he paints them with enough clarity that you can imagine living through them. His words may even inspire you to write again after a long pause, or for the first time.  

Until next time, keep on huntin’.