Vessels: A Memoir of Borders

by Michelle Otero

Between bodies and language. Between artist and survivor. Between aquí y allá. Straddling sacred spaces, Chicanx writer Michelle Otero claims deep roots in a mestiza landscape. Through memory, poems, dreams, and letters, A Memoir of Borders is a mythical journey celebrating "Herencia" and "Ritual" as the presence of the past-her own as well as that of her ancestors. She evokes a deep sense of intentional healing while embracing and disrupting relationships. Recounting the vital lessons of her traumas with an open heart, she shapes a profound memoir as an offering for us to witness our own prayers. --Richard Yañez, author of El Paso del Stories on the Border

260 pages, Paperback

Published March 13, 2023

Reviews

[Mona Frazier · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoy memoirs when the writing and insights make them accessible to the reader without being preachy. The writing is excellent, with vivid descriptions and settings. The memoir covers areas of grief, loss, abuse, and coming of age, and handles them sensitively and with the author's attempt at intentional healing, which I found incredible and courageous.

The book starts with a trip to the hospital to visit the author's critically ill grandmother. From there, the pages explore grandparents, parents, siblings, and 'bad boyfriends.'

Many times, I have recalled similar and identifiable situations. The settings range from her childhood in New Mexico to college in Vermont, as well as El Paso and Oaxaca.

(Content warning: sexual abuse is discussed but handled sensitively).

[Catherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Growing up, Michelle was gregarious, kind, hilarious, and everyone’s friend. Her beautiful memoir reminds us that you never truly know what another person is quietly enduring. Vessels isn’t just her family’s story, her gender’s story, her fellow border-raised Chicanos’ story. It is the story of how Michelle became the gifted teacher and writer that she is. I stand in awe of not just her ánimo, but her ability to articulate the sources of her trauma and to step back and show the reader the full tapestry of how she arrived. It’s sheer poetry. And you should read it.

[Kimberlee Yeargin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Michelle Otero wrote a compelling story of loss-loss of loved ones, loss of innocence, loss of love. It is the story of her search for a way through that loss by way of retracing Malinche and Cortés and her own ancestors. It is a story of resilience. Michelle is a beautiful story teller. In her voice, I hear all the ways in which the world tells a young girl that she can never be enough and then contradicts in a lovely and lyrical way as she walks on this journey.

[Zach Hively · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful prose. So particularly New Mexican, and so universal. What if books like this were required reading for men? The human world might be a better understood place.

[Cara Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s possible not every talented poet has it in them to pen a stunning memoir, but I find reading such work among my greatest pleasures. Michelle Otero’s Vessels is that kind of read. Her lyrical mosaic glues together the many pieces of her Chicana life to create multiple vessels, fractured yet strong: Mexican and American, of ancient tradition and feminist independence, both broken and embraced by family, a survivor of male violence and healer of women’s spirits.

It’s not an easy read, nor would I want it to be. How else could it speak so fiercely of a life that, though different from mine, makes me ache with nostalgia for the joy and pain of all the liminal people, places, and experiences that shaped me. Like Mary Karr’s The Liar’s Club, Vessels explores the ties that bind and break, but its cultural lens focuses on a different corner of the American story. If you’re Latina, mixed-race, or someone whose life straddles borders—I believe Vessels has the power to carry you home to your many selves.

Ultimately, Otero’s poetic story reaches deep into the primitive truths all women carry within: “Paint me now. This is the kind of woman I am. A hairy, wild—some might say savage—woman with blood dripping down her legs. Paint with that.”