Salinas, Luis Omar
Luis Omar Salinas 1937–
American poet and editor.
The following entry provides an overview of Salinas's career through 1988.
Salinas is generally regarded as a distinguished figure in contemporary Chicano poetry. Described by critics as highly creative and evocative, his verse frequently employs surrealistic images and metaphors, and discusses such traditional themes as alienation, loneliness, death, and honor. As noted Chicano poet Gary Soto has written, "Salinas possesses a powerful imagination, a sensitivity toward the world, and an intuitive feel for handling language."
Born in Robstown, Texas, Salinas emigrated with his family to Mexico at the age of three, and shortly after their arrival Salinas's mother died of tuberculosis. Salinas's father returned to Robstown and, saddled with bills related to his wife's sickness and death, sent his children to live with relatives who soon adopted them. Separated from his father and his younger sister, Salinas and his new family eventually moved to California. An excellent student—he learned to read and write at an early age—Salinas was fluent in English and became avidly interested in the adventure stories of American novelist Jack London. In high school, he became a practicing Catholic and was active in athletics. Serving in the United States Marines Reserves and attending Bakersfield City College, Salinas eventually reunited with his father and settled in Los Angeles. Beginning in 1958, he attended California State College, studying history, drama, and literature, but working full-time and attending college part-time proved too much for him and he soon suffered a mental breakdown. Diagnosed as schizophrenic—it has since been determined that he is manic-depressive—he was hospitalized for eleven months, during which time he attempted suicide; Salinas has noted that it was around this time that he also began writing poetry. Continuing to receive medical supervision, he returned to his studies in 1963, enrolling first at East Los Angeles Community College and, the following year, at California State University, Los Angeles. Coping with mental illness and the demands of various odd jobs, Salinas was hardly a model student and frequently missed or dropped out of classes. Inspired by the work of the Spanish poet Gustavo Adolfo Becquer, however, he eventually took a creative writing class taught by Henri Coulette. Relocating to the agricultural Fresno Valley with his father, Salinas began classes at Fresno State where he suffered additional nervous breakdowns. Despite the pressures of a workshop atmosphere, Salinas took several writing class-es, working under the direction of such renowned American poets as Philip Levine and Peter Everwine. At Fresno, Salinas was also asked to teach in the Ethnic Studies Department. That same year he published Crazy Gypsy (1970), a collection of verse that largely explores the painful sense of alienation and loneliness resulting from the death of a mother. Although Crazy Gypsy was rushed into production—early editions are full of spelling and grammatical errors—the volume was a commercial and critical success. Nevertheless, Salinas waited ten years to publish his second volume of verse, Afternoon of the Unreal (1980). He has since released Prelude to Darkness (1981), Darkness under the Trees/Walking behind the Spanish (1982), and The Sadness of Days (1987). He was awarded the Stanley Kunitz Award from Columbia Magazine in 1980 and continues to write and publish extensively in journals and anthologies. He is also the coeditor of From the Barrio (1973), an anthology of Chicano writings. A new collection of work, tentatively titled Sometime Mysteriously, awaits publication.
Alternately characterized as romantic, political, dark, and brooding, Salinas's poetry addresses the chaotic nature of human existence or, as he puts it, "the strange fullness of the unreal." Replete with unusual and fascinating imagery similar to the surrealist poetry of Federico García Lorca, Míguel Hernández, César Vallejo, and Pablo Neruda, Salinas's verse—which is often marked by ambiguity and disjointed sentence structure—is considered both highly emotive and striking. For example, in "Sunday … Dig the Empty Sounds" from Crazy Gypsy, a frantic youngster searches for his mother amidst an array of such frightening symbols as "the blood of children and the clouds with mouths." Much of Salinas's poetry is distinguished by this focus on alienation and abandonment—feelings he associated with the death of his mother and his separation from his sister and father. For instance, in "Poem for Olivia," a piece dedicated to his mother that appears in Afternoon of the Unreal, he writes: "I didn't come to this world / to be frightened / yet your death sticks / in my stomach / and I must clean the kitchen / with my hands / and I wander on / into the night of leavened bread / and pursue truth / like a tube needing air." Salinas also explores the pain of unrequited love in such collections as Prelude to Darkness and Darkness under the Trees/Walking behind the Spanish. The latter, which is comprised of two separate collections, contains new and old work. In the first part of the volume, his focus is largely autobiographical and emphasizes such themes as love, insanity, and loneliness. The second portion of the book is more political in nature, honoring, in part, poets and anti-Fascist revolutionaries who were active in the Spanish Civil War. Politics is likewise central to several of the pieces in Crazy Gypsy—which includes protest chants Salinas wrote while at Fresno State and poems about Vietnam and the Argentine revolutionary Che Guevara—and to The Sadness of Days, which is also known for its focus on philosophical issues. In one poem from The Sadness of Days, he offers an analysis of the work of photographer Ansel Adams: "Grandeur is always the subject: shards / of sunlight splitting clouds; rubble of lost / boulders under a heaven of cliff face and cumuli; / a tiny cemetery—crosses like picket fences—/ near the ghostly town under the mountains / flooding with white, the moon above / like some Platonic ideal."
Although Salinas's work has been well-received, it has engendered minimal critical commentary. Following the publication of Crazy Gypsy, reviewers initially focused on the social message of Salinas's poetry, largely ignoring its surrealist dimensions and influences. As Eliezar Risco Lozada and Guillermo Martinez wrote in the introduction to Crazy Gypsy: "There is a degree of surrealism in Omar's highly personalized juxtaposition of images. But we can't allow that superficial surrealism to distract us from the deeper reality of the poems." In recent years, however, scholars have asserted that the form and content of Salinas's work are inseparable, arguing that the poetry's distinctive features—economy of expression, syntactical ambiguity, and ingenious placement of symbols—have a specific thematic function. While some have faulted his verse as ungrammatical and poorly crafted, most have agreed that Salinas succeeds in creating a poetry that simultaneously defines and preserves the Chicano experience within an Anglo-American culture. Salinas, for his part, has stated that although his poetry contains abstract elements, his work remains grounded in the reality of the human condition, his family history, and his Chicano ancestry.
Crazy Gypsy (poetry) 1970
From the Barrio: A Chicano Anthology [editor, with Lillian Faderman] (anthology) 1973
I Go Dreaming Serenades (poetry) 1979
Afternoon of the Unreal (poetry) 1980
Prelude to Darkness (poetry) 1981
Darkness under the Trees/Walking behind the Spanish (poetry) 1982
The Sadness of Days: Selected and New Poems (poetry) 1987
(The entire section is 46 words.)
SOURCE: An introduction to Crazy Gypsy, Origenes Publication, 1970, pp. 7-11.
[In the following essay, Risco Lozada and Martinez note thematic and stylistic aspects of Salinas's work, including an emphasis on surrealism, women, loneliness, and Chicano identity.]
Omar is the Crazy Gypsy. Omar is the whistler of tunes. Omar is the dreamer of stoics, of nightingales, of moons, of bellies, of stars, and of death. Omar is the poet of somnambular beginnings … amazed by his own trickery at finding the right words to say to the virgin. Omar is the claimer of bodies … undertaker of America. Omar is the son of Aram the happy money man. Omar is the repairman of corazones. Who is Omar?
For those who know Omar, he is a man without guile, drinking companion, listener of Mexican discos, tripster, friend … But, who is that other (and the same) Omar who comes alive in the "I" of these poems?
The Omar of these poems [in Crazy Gypsy] is, first of all, lonely. Lonely, with an abysmal loneliness not bound by psychological theories. The loneliness of Omar is a deep, metaphysical loneliness. It is the loneliness of one who translates into cosmic and universal terms the existential despair of the Chicano in the southwest. Like Omar says, "a distinct passenger in who knows what train."
Omar, the persona in these poems, was born in Robstown. Where is Robstown?...
(The entire section is 970 words.)
SOURCE: A review of Crazy Gypsy, in Parnassus: Poetry in Review, Vol. 8, No. 2, 1980, pp. 229-34.
[A distinguished Chicano poet, essayist, memoirist, short story writer, and educator, Soto was the editor of Salinas's 1987 The Sadness of Days. In the review below, he assesses the strengths and weaknesses of Crazy Gypsy.]
I remember reading somewhere that happy literature has no history; it has no place among serious letters. As a child moves toward maturity, begins to see and feel the world as if for the first time, he throws aside the happy literature—comic books and adventure novels—and turns to the shelf where lie the works of Flaubert, Cervantes, Anderson…. Through literature he learns to weep for everything beautifully temporary, and learns that everywhere there is a potential threat, that cat with dirty claws, those cars speeding through red lights, and even your own mother cutting meat with an unwashed knife. He learns through literature, if he is sensitive and keen-minded, to see the world in a different light and at a different angle.
Crazy Gypsy by Luis Omar Salinas is a serious book, a collection of poems by a Chicano who speaks privately of what it is to be a man wind-blown in a rush of experience. The book wears several masks—the romantic, the political, and most visibly, that of loneliness. When reading these poems I ask myself how a man,...
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SOURCE: A chapter in Partial Autobiographies: Interviews with Twenty Chicano Poets, edited by Wolfgang Binder, Palm & Enke, 1985, pp. 147-49.
[In the following essay, originally composed in 1982, Salinas discusses his life, his literary influences, and poetry writing.]
I was born June 27th, 1937, in a small town by the name of Robstown, Texas. Christened and baptized in the Catholic Church Luis Omar Salinas. The son of Rosendo Valdez Salinas and Olivia Treviño Salinas. My father was born in the States and my mother in Paraz, Mexico. Before I was age four my mother died of tuberculosis, and I have vague recollections of her. My father worked in farms. At age four I was legally adopted by my uncle and aunt, Alfredo C. Salinas and Oralia Campos Alvarado Salinas. My second father was a clerk in a clothing store and my second mother a housewife. I gained entrance into a lower middle-class family having been born into the peasantry. At age three I lived in Mexico with my sister Irma [who is] a year younger than I [with] my father and mother. My most terrible memory of my childhood was there in Monterrey where we lived next to a madhouse. The screams and strange behavior baffled and scared me. My father had a small business there, and survival was uppermost in our mind then. In the poem "Mexico Age Four" I describe that experience. This experience made a lasting impression on me. I could not understand why...
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SOURCE: "Luis Omar Salinas: Chicano Poet," in MELUS, Vol. 9, No. 2, Summer, 1982, pp. 47-82.
[In the following excerpt, in part based on interviews conducted with Salinas and his teachers and publishers, Soto examines various poems from Salinas's oeuvre, noting their underlying melancholy and incorporation of surrealistic imagery and political concerns. Much of the unexcerpted portion of the essay provides a biographical overview of Salinas's life, particularly his childhood, adolescence, and college years.]
Crazy Gypsy is an uneven book of 39 poems, some of which are ungrammatical, scattered in thought, and poorly crafted, while others are a bit silly, as the poem "Ass" illustrates:
myself a prince
beside a river
and fell on my ass
Walked beside her ladyship
and fell on my ass
the kingdom is talking
Salinas fell on his ass
on the way to mass
The book was so rushed into production that no one person had...
(The entire section is 2768 words.)
SOURCE: An interview in Northwest Review, Vol. 20, Nos. 2 & 3, 1982, pp. 238-41.
[In the interview below, Salinas relates his interest in death and its import in his poetry as well as his literary influences.]
"Many Things of Death"
a child with mud
on his hands
today it has
the mouth of an insect
it has the nightmares
it has the footsteps
of a gardener
wanting to murder
it has nonsense
in its eyes
a dog barking
at a cloud
a woman opening
an awkward door
it has the stubbornness
of an owl hatching
(The entire section is 1136 words.)
SOURCE: A review of Darkness Under the Trees, in Northwest Review, Vol. 21, No. 1, 1983, pp. 150-51.
[In the review below, Addiego commends Salinas's Darkness under the Trees, observing that his verse has a dark, brooding quality typically associated with Spanish literature.]
There's a fierce humor in the personal cosmos Salinas creates in his new book, Darkness Under the Trees: Walking Behind the Spanish. Beneath the humor a compassionate, lonely person is looking squarely at death; the grotesque characters (polite hunchbacks, pregnant barmaids, mad people) are compared to the speaker, whose tonal leaps from the supplicant to the bawdy make him seem equally absurd, and equally genuine:
Evening becomes evening,
and I'm not letting up, God.
I'm still sleeping
with my neighbor's wife
and sometimes drive nails
into flowers out of boredom
and bump into beggars
when morning goes dead.
This is the voice of someone who doesn't fit easily into society, a person who sympathizes with those who live alone and those on society's fringes. The speaker seems to be drifting outside of time and culture, and his...
(The entire section is 487 words.)
SOURCE: A review of The Sadness of Days: Selected and New Poems, in Western American Literature, Vol. XXIII, No. 1, May, 1988, p. 91.
[In the review below, Wright examines the evocative power of The Sadness of Days.]
The poems in The Sadness of Days are not for the faint of heart. Full of anger, blood, spittle, and venom, these poems speak of the clashes of the world: between young and old, between rich and poor, between educated and uneducated, between living and dead. Luis Omar Salinas's poetic voice expresses itself in the language of darkness. Consider these poems as examples: "Prelude to Darkness," "As Evening Lays Dying," "Darkness Under the Trees," "I Live Among the Shadows," "It Will be Darkness Soon," and "In the Thick of Darkness." Don't look in this book for "have a nice day" sentiment. What you'll find in these pages is raw, unpolished, angry, and confused emotion.
(The entire section is 149 words.)
SOURCE: "Voices of Sadness & Science," in The Bloomsbury Review, Vol. 8, No. 4, July-August, 1988, p. 21.
[In the following, Soto offers a generally favorable assessment of The Sadness of Days.]
The Chicano protest poets of the sixties and early seventies have put down their pens and have gone into real estate or, if they haven't gone off to make a living, to raise a family, to do the best they can, then they have continued to write just as loudly but with fewer willing listeners. In their place, a number of literate poets have surfaced who speak more quietly, but just as urgently, and with a greater expanse of ideas—poets like Alberto Rios, Lorna Dee Cervantes, Jimmy Santiago Baca, Juan Felipe Herrera, Ray Gonzalez, and Cherrie Moraga. It's not that their work is void of political commentary (at times the work is political), but they are far more passionate about their feelings, more faithful to their ideas, and more exploratory for themes.
Luis Omar Salinas, probably the most highly respected Chicano poet writing today, was one of those protest poets who managed to write poetry that was political yet artful—not sloppy ramblings. And now we have his major effort, The Sadness of Days: Selected and New Poems, a generous collection from five previous books, the earliest being Crazy Gypsy (1978).
Salinas is a poet who wears the coat of Don...
(The entire section is 790 words.)
Review of From the Barrio: A Chicano Anthology, edited by Luis Omar Salinas and Lillian Faderman. Choice 10, No. 9 (November 1973): 1377.
Praises the editors for including mostly new work in From the Barrio, arguing that this "book will best be put to use as a reader for the general public."
de Ortego y Gasca, Felipe. "An Introduction to Chicano Poetry." In Modern Chicano Writers: A Collection of Critical Essays, edited by Joseph Sommers and Tomás Ybarra-Frausto, pp. 108-16. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1979.
General overview discussing thematic aspects and the origins of Chicano poetry. The critic briefly cites work by Salinas and others, including Ricardo Sánchez, Rodolfo Gonzales, and Abelardo Delgado.
McKesson, Norma Alarcón. Review of From the Barrio: A Chicano Anthology, edited by Luis Omar Salinas and Lillian Faderman. Revista Chicano-Riqueña 2, No. 2 (Spring 1974): 53-4.
Notes From the Barrio's value for both Chicano and non-Chicano readers, arguing that the volume is thematically characterized by a "strident identity crisis."
(The entire section is 193 words.)