What do you think?
Rate this book
Kinky Gazpacho: Life, Love & Spain
Magazine writer and editor Lori Tharps was born and raised in the comfortable but mostly White suburbs of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she was often the only person of color in her school and neighborhood. At an early age, Lori decided that her destiny would be discovered in Spain. She didn't know anyone from Spain, had never visited the country, and hardly spoke the language. Still, she never faltered in her plans to escape to the Iberian Peninsula. Arriving in the country as an optimistic college student, however, Lori soon discovers Spain's particular attitude toward Blackness. She is chased down the street by the local schoolchildren and pointed at incessantly in public, and her innocent dreams of a place where race doesn't matter are shattered. The story would end there, except Lori meets and marries a Spaniard, and that's when her true Spanish adventure really begins.
Against the ancient backdrops of Cadiz and Andalucia, Lori starts the intricate yet amusing journey of rekindling her love affair with Spain and becoming a part of her new Spanish family. From a grandmother who spies on her to a grandfather who warmly welcomes her to town with a slew of racist jokes, the close-knit clan isn't exactly waiting with open arms. "Kinky Gazpacho" tells the story of the redeeming power of love and finding self in the most unexpected places.
At its heart, this is a love story. It is a memoir, a travel essay, and a glimpse into the past and present of Spain. As humorous and entertaining as such favorite travel stories as "Under the Tuscan Sun," this book also unveils a unique and untold history of Spain's enduring connection to West Africa. "Kinky Gazpacho" celebrates the mysticism of travel and the joys of watching two distinct cultures connect and come together.
Against the ancient backdrops of Cadiz and Andalucia, Lori starts the intricate yet amusing journey of rekindling her love affair with Spain and becoming a part of her new Spanish family. From a grandmother who spies on her to a grandfather who warmly welcomes her to town with a slew of racist jokes, the close-knit clan isn't exactly waiting with open arms. "Kinky Gazpacho" tells the story of the redeeming power of love and finding self in the most unexpected places.
At its heart, this is a love story. It is a memoir, a travel essay, and a glimpse into the past and present of Spain. As humorous and entertaining as such favorite travel stories as "Under the Tuscan Sun," this book also unveils a unique and untold history of Spain's enduring connection to West Africa. "Kinky Gazpacho" celebrates the mysticism of travel and the joys of watching two distinct cultures connect and come together.
224 pages, Hardcover
First published March 4, 2008
7 people are currently reading
583 people want to read
About the author
Lori L. Tharps
9 books38 followersLori L. Tharps is an assistant professor of journalism and author based in Philadelphia, PA. She writes about issues of cultural diversity, race, identity politics and parenting.
She is a graduate of Smith College and Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism.
Visit Lori at www.loritharps.com or at her blog: www.myamericanmeltingpot.com
She is a graduate of Smith College and Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism.
Visit Lori at www.loritharps.com or at her blog: www.myamericanmeltingpot.com
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 29 of 97 reviews
June 29, 2008
Recently, I've decided to collect memoirs written by womyn of color. Ever since reading Harriet Jacobs', Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, I have been drawn to these memoirs.
Kinky Gazpacho intrigued me right away. It was the title that grabbed me. The double entendre, the photo, the promise of a womyn of color doing her own version of eating, praying, and loving, on another continent, that drew me to the book. That and a friend who loves Spain. Initially, I thought I'd pass the book on to her, once I was done.
So you see, I really wanted to love Kinky Gazpacho. Wanted to find out the joys of Spain (of which I'd hear many grumblings from Black friends who visited), wanted to learn how Tharps had negotiated her identity as a person of color, who as a result of the Civil Rights' Movement, grew up in a post-Civil Rights Era, wanted to learn the insights she gained from her traveling and her marriage.
I found myself disappointed. The writing was too loose, too familiar, too colloquial. Tharps also seems to resist delving deeply into her own insecurities, projections, and actions. Lastly, at the completion of the book, I gained no new knowledge, perspective, or sense of being touched by a person digging to uncover profound self-knowledge.
Tharps, who has worked with Entertainment Weekly and Vibe magazine, previously published a book entitled, Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America, has plenty of experience writing. That experience doesn't make itself known in this memoir. The overall tone fluctuates between stridently dramatic and flippancy. In part, I think because so much was "told" without being shown or adequately contextualized. Knowing that Tharps is a trained journalist, I made an assumption that she'd follow one of the golden rules of writing: show, don't tell. And if you're going to break that cardinal rule, do it with verve - do it superbly. Throughout the memoir, Tharps reverts to telling - telling us when she's angry, telling us when she's depressed, telling us when she's in love, telling us she felt uncomfortable with her race. As any writer, editor, or writing teacher can explain, telling first, doesn't build the connection, interest, or compelling narrative that makes a truly outstanding memoir.
As a reader, I felt I had to find clues beyond Tharps' telling. Clues to balance the telling, which often felt as if Tharps was again 17 years old, reliving the experience, as opposed to revisiting it, for the purpose of building to the key themes in the memoir. In memoir, there is such a delicate balance reliving to draw forth the original emotions and revisiting to ground and contextualize one's experience. With such great work on children of color in predominantly white schools and environments, I'd hoped that Tharps could own her dedication to assimilating more clearly - showing through her actions and thougths, how she strove to distance herself from blackness, to explain her ambivalence to Blackness.
In one memorable scene, Tharps recounts her attempts to connect with other Black womyn at Smith, her alma mater. Tharps attends a meeting of a Black womyn's association on campus, but leaves, dramatically and angrily, before the meeting has even begun, when she feels she's being ignored by the other Black womyn present. I found this scene truly interesting - for the drama of the recounting, the young Tharps' assertion in the moment that she was being rejected, and for my own nostalgia of those early months of college, where the smallest social interaction, threatens to foretell the future of the entire college social scene. But, just as I felt Tharps was going to address her discomfort with herself, her feelings of shame, and her need for belonging and acceptance, the scene dissumulates into a pep talk, letting her off the hook. We never learn if Tharps returns to the Black community at Smith (but we do learn of a smelly Black man whom she was involved with briefly) and that remains an uncompleted thread.
I would have loved it, if Tharps took that moment of anger, isolation, and hurt and used it as an example of her feelings around belonging to a Black community. As a reader, I assumed that Tharps' desire for belonging in Spain was a transference and continuance of her desire and struggle for acceptance throughout her childhood in predominantly white environments. Yet, I'm not sure if that's the conclusion Tharps intended me to draw.
That assumption comes, not only from my own experience, as "the only one," but also as a witness to the racial identity development of friends and acquaintances throughout primary school and college. The complex dynamics between those who feel they have to prove their Blackness, those who have evolved into their Black identity, those who constantly struggle - caught between assimilation and a desire to belong, and those who don't love blackness or their black identity and try to escape. Perhaps to a certain degree, that's all of us, who attended predominantly white schools or lived in predominantly white environments. We all had to learn how to negotiate how we would love ourselves - how we would survive, thrive, and make friends across boundaries, and still remain true to ourselves. As a classmate once said, "private school Blacks are a whole other breed."
The overly familiar and colloquial tone, while at times very endearing, also serves, ironically to keep the reader away from the deeper heart, both of Tharps' narrative, but also of Tharps herself. The personable terminology, down home references, hyperbole, and attempts at causal vernacular place a veil between the reader and the insights, which might have made this memoir more in the caliber of Black Ice, rather than a simple snapshot coming-of-age tale.
Lastly, Spain was to be a major protagonist in the memoir. While I do have a better sense of the country, I am stil puzzled by a few things - most notably, Tharps' humility around her language skills. I asssumed that with nearly 10 years of Spanish under her belt, Tharps would be completely fluent. This, I think, has more to do with my own ignorance around language, than it does with Tharps' depiction of her language skills - though I wonder if perhaps she's being very humble. I am further puzzled by Tharps' lack of knowledge before she went to Spain, about Spain's role in slavery. The role of slavery in Spain's history, as well as the role of Black people in Spain, becomes an important aspect of the book. As one who's very familiar with the history of slavery, I did not find these revelations at all new - in fact, I wondered how Tharps hadn't known. What's more, the whole south of Spain is a hop, skip, and a jump from Africa - the Moors conquered Spain - how could there not be an African influence? Tharps' awakening around the role fo Black people in Spain's history, unfortunately, is another example of the lack of connectedness to Black identity exhibited in the book. I felt uncomfortable as Tharps grew more comfortable is Spain as a result of learning about the oppression of Black people in the country.
Granted, this could be a writing technique. Tharps mentioned she loves Frederick Douglas, who in his writing, particularly in Narratives of the Life of a Slave, would feign lack of knowledge of a subject, in order to draw the reader in, even as he showed how much he knew on the topic. (I think the term in English theory is litotes.)
I've always been a proponent of the memoir, believing that the process of writing uncovers an individual's thoughts, feelings, growth, and challenges. That if a person writes honestly and from a place of their deepest truth, then the very telling of that story reveals layers of perspective, ideas, and an opening of the heart for those who read their narrative. I think it's a brave thing to write one's memoir. To commit one's story to paper. The idea that only older people can or should write memoirs, I've found, was an unfair (and possibly ageist) assumption.
I think memoirs are best in the hands of those willing to uncover the most profound angles of themselves. In this way, perhaps then, the memoir is best for those who are reflecting, negotiating, revisiting, and working out the issues that make them uniquely them. Making it all bare; who approach the memoir with a certain amount of reverence, appreciation, and rawness, with no attempt to protect, shield, or hide behind, within, or from issues that reveal themselves in the process of writing. For those who have found new levels of maturity within themselves as a result of the arc of their lives. I got the sense that Tharps wasn't completely at ease sharing all the information about her family - there are still aspects of family business, and perhaps her own life, that aren't meant (ore ready) to be all "out in the street." One of my favorite teachers was always fond of repeating a Kenyan proverb he grew up with, "empty cans make a lot of noise." In other words, being gregarious all time, talkative and seemingly willing to bare all, doesn't always mean someone is being entirely forethcoming or comfortable in their sharing. In fact, sometimes the noise distracts us from the lack of substance in the content.
Not to suggest that there's no substance in Kinky Gazpacho, but I do wonder if the extroversion of the author, creates an assumption of openness, comfort with the text, and a level of self-knowledge and awareness, that without being shown, as a reader I am left to assume or believe, rather than experience or witness.
As always, I proffer my review, knowing that I haven't ever written a book. Haven't ever stretched myself in that way. What do I know about birthing a memoir? And of course, what does it mean that I "collect" memoirs written by other womyn of color, having not dared to write my own. What experiences, after all, am I searching for, in the stories of others?
Kinky Gazpacho intrigued me right away. It was the title that grabbed me. The double entendre, the photo, the promise of a womyn of color doing her own version of eating, praying, and loving, on another continent, that drew me to the book. That and a friend who loves Spain. Initially, I thought I'd pass the book on to her, once I was done.
So you see, I really wanted to love Kinky Gazpacho. Wanted to find out the joys of Spain (of which I'd hear many grumblings from Black friends who visited), wanted to learn how Tharps had negotiated her identity as a person of color, who as a result of the Civil Rights' Movement, grew up in a post-Civil Rights Era, wanted to learn the insights she gained from her traveling and her marriage.
I found myself disappointed. The writing was too loose, too familiar, too colloquial. Tharps also seems to resist delving deeply into her own insecurities, projections, and actions. Lastly, at the completion of the book, I gained no new knowledge, perspective, or sense of being touched by a person digging to uncover profound self-knowledge.
Tharps, who has worked with Entertainment Weekly and Vibe magazine, previously published a book entitled, Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America, has plenty of experience writing. That experience doesn't make itself known in this memoir. The overall tone fluctuates between stridently dramatic and flippancy. In part, I think because so much was "told" without being shown or adequately contextualized. Knowing that Tharps is a trained journalist, I made an assumption that she'd follow one of the golden rules of writing: show, don't tell. And if you're going to break that cardinal rule, do it with verve - do it superbly. Throughout the memoir, Tharps reverts to telling - telling us when she's angry, telling us when she's depressed, telling us when she's in love, telling us she felt uncomfortable with her race. As any writer, editor, or writing teacher can explain, telling first, doesn't build the connection, interest, or compelling narrative that makes a truly outstanding memoir.
As a reader, I felt I had to find clues beyond Tharps' telling. Clues to balance the telling, which often felt as if Tharps was again 17 years old, reliving the experience, as opposed to revisiting it, for the purpose of building to the key themes in the memoir. In memoir, there is such a delicate balance reliving to draw forth the original emotions and revisiting to ground and contextualize one's experience. With such great work on children of color in predominantly white schools and environments, I'd hoped that Tharps could own her dedication to assimilating more clearly - showing through her actions and thougths, how she strove to distance herself from blackness, to explain her ambivalence to Blackness.
In one memorable scene, Tharps recounts her attempts to connect with other Black womyn at Smith, her alma mater. Tharps attends a meeting of a Black womyn's association on campus, but leaves, dramatically and angrily, before the meeting has even begun, when she feels she's being ignored by the other Black womyn present. I found this scene truly interesting - for the drama of the recounting, the young Tharps' assertion in the moment that she was being rejected, and for my own nostalgia of those early months of college, where the smallest social interaction, threatens to foretell the future of the entire college social scene. But, just as I felt Tharps was going to address her discomfort with herself, her feelings of shame, and her need for belonging and acceptance, the scene dissumulates into a pep talk, letting her off the hook. We never learn if Tharps returns to the Black community at Smith (but we do learn of a smelly Black man whom she was involved with briefly) and that remains an uncompleted thread.
I would have loved it, if Tharps took that moment of anger, isolation, and hurt and used it as an example of her feelings around belonging to a Black community. As a reader, I assumed that Tharps' desire for belonging in Spain was a transference and continuance of her desire and struggle for acceptance throughout her childhood in predominantly white environments. Yet, I'm not sure if that's the conclusion Tharps intended me to draw.
That assumption comes, not only from my own experience, as "the only one," but also as a witness to the racial identity development of friends and acquaintances throughout primary school and college. The complex dynamics between those who feel they have to prove their Blackness, those who have evolved into their Black identity, those who constantly struggle - caught between assimilation and a desire to belong, and those who don't love blackness or their black identity and try to escape. Perhaps to a certain degree, that's all of us, who attended predominantly white schools or lived in predominantly white environments. We all had to learn how to negotiate how we would love ourselves - how we would survive, thrive, and make friends across boundaries, and still remain true to ourselves. As a classmate once said, "private school Blacks are a whole other breed."
The overly familiar and colloquial tone, while at times very endearing, also serves, ironically to keep the reader away from the deeper heart, both of Tharps' narrative, but also of Tharps herself. The personable terminology, down home references, hyperbole, and attempts at causal vernacular place a veil between the reader and the insights, which might have made this memoir more in the caliber of Black Ice, rather than a simple snapshot coming-of-age tale.
Lastly, Spain was to be a major protagonist in the memoir. While I do have a better sense of the country, I am stil puzzled by a few things - most notably, Tharps' humility around her language skills. I asssumed that with nearly 10 years of Spanish under her belt, Tharps would be completely fluent. This, I think, has more to do with my own ignorance around language, than it does with Tharps' depiction of her language skills - though I wonder if perhaps she's being very humble. I am further puzzled by Tharps' lack of knowledge before she went to Spain, about Spain's role in slavery. The role of slavery in Spain's history, as well as the role of Black people in Spain, becomes an important aspect of the book. As one who's very familiar with the history of slavery, I did not find these revelations at all new - in fact, I wondered how Tharps hadn't known. What's more, the whole south of Spain is a hop, skip, and a jump from Africa - the Moors conquered Spain - how could there not be an African influence? Tharps' awakening around the role fo Black people in Spain's history, unfortunately, is another example of the lack of connectedness to Black identity exhibited in the book. I felt uncomfortable as Tharps grew more comfortable is Spain as a result of learning about the oppression of Black people in the country.
Granted, this could be a writing technique. Tharps mentioned she loves Frederick Douglas, who in his writing, particularly in Narratives of the Life of a Slave, would feign lack of knowledge of a subject, in order to draw the reader in, even as he showed how much he knew on the topic. (I think the term in English theory is litotes.)
I've always been a proponent of the memoir, believing that the process of writing uncovers an individual's thoughts, feelings, growth, and challenges. That if a person writes honestly and from a place of their deepest truth, then the very telling of that story reveals layers of perspective, ideas, and an opening of the heart for those who read their narrative. I think it's a brave thing to write one's memoir. To commit one's story to paper. The idea that only older people can or should write memoirs, I've found, was an unfair (and possibly ageist) assumption.
I think memoirs are best in the hands of those willing to uncover the most profound angles of themselves. In this way, perhaps then, the memoir is best for those who are reflecting, negotiating, revisiting, and working out the issues that make them uniquely them. Making it all bare; who approach the memoir with a certain amount of reverence, appreciation, and rawness, with no attempt to protect, shield, or hide behind, within, or from issues that reveal themselves in the process of writing. For those who have found new levels of maturity within themselves as a result of the arc of their lives. I got the sense that Tharps wasn't completely at ease sharing all the information about her family - there are still aspects of family business, and perhaps her own life, that aren't meant (ore ready) to be all "out in the street." One of my favorite teachers was always fond of repeating a Kenyan proverb he grew up with, "empty cans make a lot of noise." In other words, being gregarious all time, talkative and seemingly willing to bare all, doesn't always mean someone is being entirely forethcoming or comfortable in their sharing. In fact, sometimes the noise distracts us from the lack of substance in the content.
Not to suggest that there's no substance in Kinky Gazpacho, but I do wonder if the extroversion of the author, creates an assumption of openness, comfort with the text, and a level of self-knowledge and awareness, that without being shown, as a reader I am left to assume or believe, rather than experience or witness.
As always, I proffer my review, knowing that I haven't ever written a book. Haven't ever stretched myself in that way. What do I know about birthing a memoir? And of course, what does it mean that I "collect" memoirs written by other womyn of color, having not dared to write my own. What experiences, after all, am I searching for, in the stories of others?
August 7, 2018
I loved the absence of tragic themes in this memoir. This author was a ‘normal’ child with a ‘normal’ life. I was ready to give it 5 stars until I got to chapter 15 of 16 and then enters the authors obsession with slavery in Spain. Sighs... Not exactly how I was hoping to end what had been such a pleasant read. But even though this annoyed me, I did go to Google maps and was pleasantly surprised to find street views of some of the significant places Lori discovered during her research on slavery in Spain, which included Callejón de los Negros, a street slaves walked through after arriving at a port in Cádiz. Looking foward to reading her novel Substitute Me.
July 6, 2023
I don't like to rate people's autobiographies because that is their lived experience. But, Lori L. Tharps' book showed a lack of self-awareness in the first few chapters and the pride she takes in being the “only Black” and being a “chameleon” who can fit in with whites is continuously off putting.
It’s easy to get what Tharps is saying about not fitting in as a Black person amongst whites and not with the other Black student at Smith College. However, it also feels as if she’s not telling the whole story about why she doesn’t fit in with her Black peers at some points.
For example, in the incident with the Black Student Union (BSU) girls where Tharps categorizes the group as uninviting and implies they froze her out, she didn't ever show the reader that she'd attempted to speak to any of the other Black girls at the meeting. Tharps just acts like she expects the BSU girls to talk to her first, and when they didn't, she leaves. She then follows up the BSU scene by writing a triumphant scene where she and her mixed group of BIPOC friends who all suffer from the "I'm so different than the other BIPOC girls of my ethnicity because I can interact with white girls easily and don't have to only talk to my ethnicity" syndrome all decide to form a supergroup of alienated ethnic misfits to prove they're not like the other [fill in the ethnicity here] girls. I get the sentiment here, but once again, Tharps reaction to the situation totally negates reality and places undue emphasis on how uninclusive the "other Black girls" are and therefore infers that all Black people must be like this because of this one bad experience instead of just saying she didn't click with that one specific group of Black women she met.
Another odd incident in the memoir occurs when Tharps stalks Fredrick Douglass' great-great-great (?) grandson all across Andalusia and tries to get him to give her some type of benevolent wisdom about Blackness to make her more comfortable in her own skin. Problem is Douglass' great-great-great grandson is just trying to live his life as another student abroad in Spain and has no deep well of knowledge to tap into to play Yoda for Tharps' racial pity party. Once again, the way she lacks self-awareness in each of these retellings is cringey even when I try to rationalize that she was just a teenager/young adult. In these moments, I think the cringe factor has to do with the fact that Tharps never shows any self-reflection even when she speaks in the past tense or tells a story from her later years after re-examining these moments.
Don't get me wrong, I think I get what she's trying to say about Blackness and how not every variation (e.g., emo or alternative Black, preppy Black, etc.) of Blackness has always been accepted, especially pre-2010s. Yet, the way Tharps writes about past incidents where she's trying to figure her Blackness out through trial and error feels as if she's blaming the whole race for isolated incidents and then relieves herelf of any accountability for how she chose to interact with her Black peers. (Another incident that comes to mind is how she fawns over white boys and then sees her dalliance with a pro-Black man in college who accuses her family of being bougie as this monumental event. This relationship later gets talked about negatively in juxtaposition to the time she brings her white Spaniard husband home. Showing once again that Tharps chosen to chase after whiteness instead of addressing the anti-Blackness feelings that are embedded in her psyche.)
This travelogue was one I spent years anticipating reading, and it let me down big time. Instead of reading this one, I would suggest Tembi Locke's memoir, From Scratch, which is part travelogue about her split life with her Sicilian husband and life in LA as an actress, part meditation on death and the life that comes later and just a dash of cooking to round out those heart wrenching moments life throws at you.
It’s easy to get what Tharps is saying about not fitting in as a Black person amongst whites and not with the other Black student at Smith College. However, it also feels as if she’s not telling the whole story about why she doesn’t fit in with her Black peers at some points.
For example, in the incident with the Black Student Union (BSU) girls where Tharps categorizes the group as uninviting and implies they froze her out, she didn't ever show the reader that she'd attempted to speak to any of the other Black girls at the meeting. Tharps just acts like she expects the BSU girls to talk to her first, and when they didn't, she leaves. She then follows up the BSU scene by writing a triumphant scene where she and her mixed group of BIPOC friends who all suffer from the "I'm so different than the other BIPOC girls of my ethnicity because I can interact with white girls easily and don't have to only talk to my ethnicity" syndrome all decide to form a supergroup of alienated ethnic misfits to prove they're not like the other [fill in the ethnicity here] girls. I get the sentiment here, but once again, Tharps reaction to the situation totally negates reality and places undue emphasis on how uninclusive the "other Black girls" are and therefore infers that all Black people must be like this because of this one bad experience instead of just saying she didn't click with that one specific group of Black women she met.
Another odd incident in the memoir occurs when Tharps stalks Fredrick Douglass' great-great-great (?) grandson all across Andalusia and tries to get him to give her some type of benevolent wisdom about Blackness to make her more comfortable in her own skin. Problem is Douglass' great-great-great grandson is just trying to live his life as another student abroad in Spain and has no deep well of knowledge to tap into to play Yoda for Tharps' racial pity party. Once again, the way she lacks self-awareness in each of these retellings is cringey even when I try to rationalize that she was just a teenager/young adult. In these moments, I think the cringe factor has to do with the fact that Tharps never shows any self-reflection even when she speaks in the past tense or tells a story from her later years after re-examining these moments.
Don't get me wrong, I think I get what she's trying to say about Blackness and how not every variation (e.g., emo or alternative Black, preppy Black, etc.) of Blackness has always been accepted, especially pre-2010s. Yet, the way Tharps writes about past incidents where she's trying to figure her Blackness out through trial and error feels as if she's blaming the whole race for isolated incidents and then relieves herelf of any accountability for how she chose to interact with her Black peers. (Another incident that comes to mind is how she fawns over white boys and then sees her dalliance with a pro-Black man in college who accuses her family of being bougie as this monumental event. This relationship later gets talked about negatively in juxtaposition to the time she brings her white Spaniard husband home. Showing once again that Tharps chosen to chase after whiteness instead of addressing the anti-Blackness feelings that are embedded in her psyche.)
This travelogue was one I spent years anticipating reading, and it let me down big time. Instead of reading this one, I would suggest Tembi Locke's memoir, From Scratch, which is part travelogue about her split life with her Sicilian husband and life in LA as an actress, part meditation on death and the life that comes later and just a dash of cooking to round out those heart wrenching moments life throws at you.
July 18, 2008
This is a beach-read kind of memoir -- engaging, written in an easy journalistic style (read pop culture magazines) -- concerning a young, African American woman's love story with Spain from childhood to the present-day. The author's struggle with what she calls a desire to be "inconegro," i.e. to pass as non-Black, whether in the US, Morocco, or in Spain, permeates the text in, sometimes (most likely not intended by the author), disturbing ways. There are times that sympathy may not be what the reader may feel. Most problematic is the author's late interest in "Black/African" identity in Spain as she seeks to find her place in Spain after marrying a Spaniard; though she commits herself to finding out about slavery in Spain, it is surprising that the author never seems to connect Columbu's treck to the new world with imperialism and the subsequent slave trade; she is also unaware of the fact that North Africans ruled Southern Spain for at least 300 years before 1492....very strange...The author's struggle with sexuality (or gender relations) also come across as flat or unintendedly superficial; this may be do to the light, journalistic style. Still, a good beach read!
August 2, 2011
I was ready to love this book having, like Tharps, done my time in Madrid as a black student and having experienced all of the negative confrontations that Tharps experienced. It's a brisk read (read in two days) at little over 200 pages, but much of this travel memoir is bogged down with sloppy editing. I kept wanting to jump in and cut out throwaway sentences that didn't add anything to the topic being discussed. I also wanted Tharps to nail down some feedback from her outside sources; the memoir could have definitely used more substantial insights and opinions from other black travelers to Spain or the Africans who have migrated there or even Spaniards themselves. They are there but are often breezed over in favor of descriptions of college travails. At its core, it's a love-hate story with a culture and country from one woman's perspective, but it could have been so much more with more in-depth examinations of other perspectives.
June 20, 2008
I have been highly anticipating reading this book, every since I came across it as recommended reading on Amazon.com. I immediately placed the book on hold at my local library because I'm cheap and refused to pay $24.00 bucks for a book merely 200 pages long. I waited for several months to get one of like two copies in the entire LA county. I was drawn to this book by the illustration on the front cover & the title, " Kinky Gazpacho". A book about a Black woman (relatively close to my age) learning to be comfortable in her own skin and her life experiences in Spain & with the Spanish culture & people. How cool I thought, someone like me who enjoys learning about other people's cultures but who had the courage to go beyond visiting museums, reading books, eating at ethnic restaurants etc to LIVE it! Boy, was I disappointed when I felt myself struggling to read this 200 page autobiography. Mrs. Tharps, struggled most of her life with racial identity & cultural confusion and just a general uneasiness being around black people who were not family while growing up in all-white neighborhoods & schools in Wisconsin. Although in some ways, I could see similarities between myself and Mrs. Tharps particularly in how she tried to "be herself" and not fall victim to being something she wasn't or trying too " act more black" than she was I can't say I've ever felt disconnected from my "Blackness" or "My Lack of Blackness" like it seems Mrs. Tharps had been. I like what I like, speak the way I want to, and behave the way I want and I really never cared what anyone thought. And I still don't.
Its impossible to define what being black means and how a black person should talk or behavior or what interests they should have. The same goes for anyone for any race or ethnic background. Of course, there are stereotypical behaviors, characteristics, interests and language that we contribute to a certain race. But any intelligent person knows that not everyone within the same ethnic/racial group exhibit these stereotypes. With Mrs. Tharps personal journey, experience in Spain with her Spanish husband and her mixed race children, and research of slavery in Spain it seems that Mrs. Tharps has finally come to this conclusion. It's just too bad that I felt this book fell way short of it's excellent reviews.
Its impossible to define what being black means and how a black person should talk or behavior or what interests they should have. The same goes for anyone for any race or ethnic background. Of course, there are stereotypical behaviors, characteristics, interests and language that we contribute to a certain race. But any intelligent person knows that not everyone within the same ethnic/racial group exhibit these stereotypes. With Mrs. Tharps personal journey, experience in Spain with her Spanish husband and her mixed race children, and research of slavery in Spain it seems that Mrs. Tharps has finally come to this conclusion. It's just too bad that I felt this book fell way short of it's excellent reviews.
July 26, 2011
Absolutely adored it! A proper review to come, but so much of my life story as the proverbial "token black girl" is beautifully, hilariously, heartbreakingly captured in this book. Too many times I wondered how she'd gotten into my head--the elementary school white boy crush with the freckles sprinkled across the nose?!?! Get out.
We share a love of travel (actually mine's still a longing to travel); a fascination with myriad cultures; a love of food and beverage and language; the winding, confounding, ever-changing quest to fulfill what one wants to be when they grow up (I, too, just knew I was going to be the best teacher ever ... among so many other things); the unheralded status as the family eccentric (+ perpetual singleton); the flash-in-the-pan PR moments; the oh-my-gawd-my-hair-is-a-hot-broke-off-all-over-someone-else's-bathroom messes; the "duh" epiphany about one's truest calling to become a writer; and sweetest and most surprising of all, the madd, great good love for Mount Airy!
Now I know why my Lovett Memorial librarian was all up in my bidness wanting to know how I'd found the book. She was so happy to see it heading off the shelf again; even happier to see it going off with someone whose hair matched the style shown on the cover; practically tickled pink when I said I couldn't wait to read it because I'd been dreaming of Spain and love and self-discovery.
I felt that crazy good sense of fate when I remembered I wanted to read Kinky Gazpacho as I was attempting to make my very own gazpacho with its adjoining pitcher of sangria. In the midst of so many similarities I laughed (Out loud. On the train. Without a care.), felt warm 'n fuzzy and got a bit weepy replaying my own situations. This book has re-awakened and ignited that determination to see the world for myself, by myself--happily unafraid. I am, however, too afraid to take a job in a Thai restaurant to supplement my travel expenses because I don't want to lose a taste for one of my favorite types of food. I would do anything for love, but I ain't gonna lie--it's best if it doesn't come between me and my eats.
We share a love of travel (actually mine's still a longing to travel); a fascination with myriad cultures; a love of food and beverage and language; the winding, confounding, ever-changing quest to fulfill what one wants to be when they grow up (I, too, just knew I was going to be the best teacher ever ... among so many other things); the unheralded status as the family eccentric (+ perpetual singleton); the flash-in-the-pan PR moments; the oh-my-gawd-my-hair-is-a-hot-broke-off-all-over-someone-else's-bathroom messes; the "duh" epiphany about one's truest calling to become a writer; and sweetest and most surprising of all, the madd, great good love for Mount Airy!
Now I know why my Lovett Memorial librarian was all up in my bidness wanting to know how I'd found the book. She was so happy to see it heading off the shelf again; even happier to see it going off with someone whose hair matched the style shown on the cover; practically tickled pink when I said I couldn't wait to read it because I'd been dreaming of Spain and love and self-discovery.
I felt that crazy good sense of fate when I remembered I wanted to read Kinky Gazpacho as I was attempting to make my very own gazpacho with its adjoining pitcher of sangria. In the midst of so many similarities I laughed (Out loud. On the train. Without a care.), felt warm 'n fuzzy and got a bit weepy replaying my own situations. This book has re-awakened and ignited that determination to see the world for myself, by myself--happily unafraid. I am, however, too afraid to take a job in a Thai restaurant to supplement my travel expenses because I don't want to lose a taste for one of my favorite types of food. I would do anything for love, but I ain't gonna lie--it's best if it doesn't come between me and my eats.
July 12, 2008
This book was a really good read, it was insightful, funny, moving and full of intelligent observations about Spain, it's people, and what it really means to be a forigener there. I really wanted to read this book, the author married a Spaniard whom she met while doing her study abroad in Salamanca. I currently live in Salamanca and have just married a sweet, wonderful man from there. While I am obviously not able to relate to the author's experience of being African American in Spain (a factor that I know made life more difficult for her than for me, being a short brunnette who can pass for a Gallega) the majority of what she said hit home, the good and the bad. But most importantly I realted to the challanges she faced loving and marrying a Spaniard. And I believe she did an excellent job portraying how one can learn to love a country through a person and a mission (she researched the history of slavery in Spain) I still haven't found my mission yet, but she gives me great hope.
June 14, 2013
I read the reviews before I read this book, and they made me wary. Thankfully, I moved ahead anyway and was pleasantly surprised. Tharps reminds me of Angela Nissel, author of Mixed and The Broke Girl Diaries. Hilarious writers documenting the Black Middle Class Girl world. Here, the author hones in on her international experiences, particularly while she was in college. I didn't like the last 1/3 of the book where Lori looks for blackness in Spain. I'm just not interested in authenticity narratives and I wanted to smack her some times. Nevertheless, an entertaining read. A must for any black female college student thinking about Study Abroad.
November 27, 2012
I don't get some of the low critiques regarding Tharps' "memoir". It is a memoir, right? Her story, right? If you want to know more about a black woman's experience in Spain and the coming to terms with her identity, yada yada yada, go, experience and write yourself. I, too am a black woman who studied abroad in Spain. I found Tharps' experiences personal and poignant. Catch the history lesson regarding slavery in Spain, then figure out in which genre you should write your books.
September 16, 2017
I guess her husband is a very patient person and loves her very much to put up with her obsession of racism and "black" issues . I found the language flat ,maybe it is a journalistic writing style . I felt she tried to stay truthful to what she felt at the time ,but if this makes an interesting reading or make it
'humorous" ? at times it felt very flat for me .The tittle held more promise .
'humorous" ? at times it felt very flat for me .The tittle held more promise .
February 5, 2022
Eh, *shrug*
I picked this up because I loooove travel memoirs, I adore Spain, and I especially love women authors. So like - ding ding ding! Buut this just didn't work for me.
It started out pretty good - I liked the tidbits of her early life and her desire to travel. But once she hit the ae where she really got "into boys" - so like... a fourth of the way into the book? This started to stall. This book is basically just her diary re-written into a form that kind of resembles a memoir. There were a few stories that hit well, most of her racial commentary, but everything else was honestly just kind of boring. I didn't need to hear about her crushes.
Probably the part I liked the least was how close minded she seemed - which doesn't make sense because the whole book was supposed to be about how culturally open she was. Maybe she was trying hard to be authentic about the things that scared her about traveling and living abroad, but both when she lived in Morocco, and then in Spain, she talked about how she spent the majority of her time avoiding people, avoiding food, and generally just not taking advantage of her situation. The only time she branched out was when she found a boy. I was personally offended by her dislike for Salamanca (although she seemed to warm up to it by the end?). That was my own personal base and that city is friggin' fantastic. Honestly, she just seemed to hate on everything until she had time to warm up to it, which is so opposite how I think the typical "traveler" is.
All in all - kind of a downer. The very end started to get interesting as she did some cultural exploration but honestly that was so different from the rest of the book that I didn't find that valuable either.
Anyway - it was a used bookstore find that I had high hopes for but ultimately it didn't come across with a message I felt I could follow.
I picked this up because I loooove travel memoirs, I adore Spain, and I especially love women authors. So like - ding ding ding! Buut this just didn't work for me.
It started out pretty good - I liked the tidbits of her early life and her desire to travel. But once she hit the ae where she really got "into boys" - so like... a fourth of the way into the book? This started to stall. This book is basically just her diary re-written into a form that kind of resembles a memoir. There were a few stories that hit well, most of her racial commentary, but everything else was honestly just kind of boring. I didn't need to hear about her crushes.
Probably the part I liked the least was how close minded she seemed - which doesn't make sense because the whole book was supposed to be about how culturally open she was. Maybe she was trying hard to be authentic about the things that scared her about traveling and living abroad, but both when she lived in Morocco, and then in Spain, she talked about how she spent the majority of her time avoiding people, avoiding food, and generally just not taking advantage of her situation. The only time she branched out was when she found a boy. I was personally offended by her dislike for Salamanca (although she seemed to warm up to it by the end?). That was my own personal base and that city is friggin' fantastic. Honestly, she just seemed to hate on everything until she had time to warm up to it, which is so opposite how I think the typical "traveler" is.
All in all - kind of a downer. The very end started to get interesting as she did some cultural exploration but honestly that was so different from the rest of the book that I didn't find that valuable either.
Anyway - it was a used bookstore find that I had high hopes for but ultimately it didn't come across with a message I felt I could follow.
July 31, 2020
I absolutely love this book. As a black woman who loves to travel it was like going back and having a much needed friend along my own study abroad journey. And then the historical and personal examinations and discoveries around race and love and being in other countries was so ahhh needed and cathartic for me to read. It is so so so rare to find a book like this that speaks to my experiences and my own journeys and sensibilities so deeply.
Being a black girl in an almost all white suburb, going to a liberal women’s college, studying abroad in a Spanish speaking country, travel as a black woman, interracial, intercultural relationships. Never have I seen so many of my identities and experiences on the page.
I only wish I had learned about this book earlier. This will be forever a book I come back to.
Thank you so much, Lori L. Tharps.
Publishing world we need more black woman memoirs! Thank you!
Being a black girl in an almost all white suburb, going to a liberal women’s college, studying abroad in a Spanish speaking country, travel as a black woman, interracial, intercultural relationships. Never have I seen so many of my identities and experiences on the page.
I only wish I had learned about this book earlier. This will be forever a book I come back to.
Thank you so much, Lori L. Tharps.
Publishing world we need more black woman memoirs! Thank you!
November 29, 2023
I was looking to lighten my reading load by checking out Lori's book. She writes a lovely tale about growing up Black in America with aspirations of international travel. And she does it! And finds love! There are definitely some heartfelt moments and I appreciated moving with her from her youth through adulthood. The journalism mission she embarks on toward the end of the book was interesting in that "I didn't know that about Spain" kind of way. It was a nice way to wrap the book. I hope she is still enjoying Spain. A good read if you are looking for something light yet meaningful. Thanks for sharing your life, Lori. :)
June 8, 2022
This is a easy beach read memoir about a women of color, coming of age, and adventuring through love, travel and language. Lori Tharps lives a life of upper middle class privilege. She grew up in the Midwest attending private schools and private college. She spend time in high school and university living abroad in Morocco and Spain. Our life experiences color our perspective. Her blackness is central to her story. After marring a man from Spain, she navigates life between different worlds and different cultures sharing funny stories along the way.
August 13, 2019
The most interesting parts of this book were the author's experiences and reflections on race in a different country. I thought it was so thought-provoking, and I'm still tumbling it around in my mind. I think it's worth reading if only to pose those questions in your own mind and consider how it would feel to be in her shoes. But I am not very into romance, so the various adolescent crushes and other romantic relationships prompted me to skim, and the ending was strange and abrupt for me.
July 5, 2020
Fascinating insights to my beloved Spain
I had no idea when I began reading this memoir that I would come away with learning the fascinating history about slavery there. Lori’s coming of age and the way she filtered through her mental baggage about her blackness left me pleasantly surprised. I loved her story and the frankness with which she saw life both in Milwaukee and in Spain as she navigated through Madrid and Salamanca. I recommend this with five stars!
I had no idea when I began reading this memoir that I would come away with learning the fascinating history about slavery there. Lori’s coming of age and the way she filtered through her mental baggage about her blackness left me pleasantly surprised. I loved her story and the frankness with which she saw life both in Milwaukee and in Spain as she navigated through Madrid and Salamanca. I recommend this with five stars!
October 7, 2021
It started massively enjoyable but I didn't esteem the ending. I would rather have read about the development of her family life instead of Spain's black history. She found evidence about the slave trade in Spain but seemed reluctant to discuss these findings with her in-laws. I got the impression that she was so eager to discover a Black connection in Spain that she failed to appreciate the spiritual beauty of the country.
It's sweet that she and Manuel have endured.
It's sweet that she and Manuel have endured.
October 19, 2023
I read this book bc i’m moving to Spain soon. It’s poorly written in some parts and contains some typos. The middle chapters about her study abroad and romance with Manuel were the best bits of writing. But like i said, i didn’t read this for the writing. The story was good, although I think she wrote herself a bit in likable at times. Idk, Im glad I read it.
August 15, 2018
My goodness did I struggle with this book. It was originally recommended to me as a travel book, but I would argue that it is definitely not. I don't think the writer even got to Spain until about halfway through, with the beginning mostly the author professing how "multi culti" she always was and how she went to Morocco as a teenager and hated it and how she dated a Spanish exchange student for 3 weeks, all of which occurs as she is experiencing both private and public school, the latter where she is finally not the only Black girl but can't hang with the other Black girls because they are too "ghetto." It's all very pretentious and comes across as "I'm Black but not THAT kind of Black." When she finally gets to Spain, she seems to hate it and seems to limit her stories to how racist it was. Now, I studied abroad in Portugal and I can very safely say that the countries on the Iberian peninsula (and generally in Europe) are not in any way politically correct to the standard of the United States. Just like the little chocolate candies in Spain called conguitos ("little Congolese"), the Portuguese also have chocolate candies with unsavory names, shop signs with stereotyped images of African and Asian people, and on and on. Hell, my own family calls me "cigana" or "gypsy" as a term of endearment! It is totally understandable and completely valid for her as an African-American to be offended and horrified by these things, and it is completely valid to criticize Spain for these things. At the same time, there is so much more to Iberian, and Spanish, history and culture than chocolate candies and being called "la morena," (which I have also been called... still not just a Black thing) and she mentions NONE of them. She also seems to be very self-righteously horrified about racial issues, but also seems to only date Black men because they are Black and she wants to get some sort of "authenticity" from them (yikes) and also dreams about her beautiful biracial babies that she tell her Spanish husband "will basically be Cuban" (double yikes).
In Spain, she studied at the oldest university in the world and simply reported that Salamanca was very pink (which she didn't like) and that her favorite restaurant there was Burger King. Girl. It it not until she starts dating and eventually marrying a Spanish man that she seems to travel anywhere else in Spain even though she studied there for nine months. Even before she finally got to Spain, all of her experiences seem to hinder on other people making the effort with her, rather than her going out of her way to try new things. She goes to an African American club's meeting when she first starts in college and becomes so overwhelmed by her self-assigned "Oreo-ness" that she leaves after 10 minutes of sitting alone waiting for someone to talk to her, before the meeting even begins. She seems aware of this trait, waiting for others to reach out to her, but never seems to try and fix this. When she is in Morocco, she also refuses to eat the food that her host mother gives her for weeks, in Spain she seems to only eat random pastries at cafes. And again, her favorite restaurant in Salamanca was BURGER KING. I was honestly shocked that she ended up marrying a Spaniard because she seemed so disgusted by his culture.
Despite her childhood dream to go to Spain, an "obsession," she seemed to have absolutely no background information on the history of Spain and was horrified during one of her visits back to see a religious festival in Salamanca where they were wearing what appeared to be Klan hoods. Yes, out of context that would be utterly horrifying for an American, especially traumatizing for an African-American. But she had lived in Salamanca for A YEAR, and she still had no idea that the Klan stole these garments from Catholic religious festivals in Spain? And she had somehow never seen them? And then she continued to refer to these processions as "the Catholic Klansmen" throughout the rest of the book?! Girl, really?? I shutter to think of how disrespectful she would be of Hindu swastika motifs if she ever went to India.
But as much as I grew to dislike the narrator, I powered through, hate-reading mostly, until she finally got to her research about African slavery in Spain. Literally 80% of the way through the book, she finally finds something to like about Spain other than Spanish men. Finally, she finds a connection that she probably would have made a decade earlier if she read anything about Spain's extremely multi-cultural history, the Moors, and Spain and Portugal's involvement in the slave trade, all of which are normal things known in history that would be in any history about Iberia. Ugh. This final revelation is the only reason I am giving this book 2 stars instead of 1. I would have happily read a book about her traveling around Spain, learning about the African history there, its impact on its culture, all of that... but instead she leaves that for the very end of this book, where it feels unsatisfying. As a Mexican and Portuguese person, I feel no loyalty ties to Spain, but somehow this book has even me feeling robbed of the complexity and unique character of Spain and its people.
In Spain, she studied at the oldest university in the world and simply reported that Salamanca was very pink (which she didn't like) and that her favorite restaurant there was Burger King. Girl. It it not until she starts dating and eventually marrying a Spanish man that she seems to travel anywhere else in Spain even though she studied there for nine months. Even before she finally got to Spain, all of her experiences seem to hinder on other people making the effort with her, rather than her going out of her way to try new things. She goes to an African American club's meeting when she first starts in college and becomes so overwhelmed by her self-assigned "Oreo-ness" that she leaves after 10 minutes of sitting alone waiting for someone to talk to her, before the meeting even begins. She seems aware of this trait, waiting for others to reach out to her, but never seems to try and fix this. When she is in Morocco, she also refuses to eat the food that her host mother gives her for weeks, in Spain she seems to only eat random pastries at cafes. And again, her favorite restaurant in Salamanca was BURGER KING. I was honestly shocked that she ended up marrying a Spaniard because she seemed so disgusted by his culture.
Despite her childhood dream to go to Spain, an "obsession," she seemed to have absolutely no background information on the history of Spain and was horrified during one of her visits back to see a religious festival in Salamanca where they were wearing what appeared to be Klan hoods. Yes, out of context that would be utterly horrifying for an American, especially traumatizing for an African-American. But she had lived in Salamanca for A YEAR, and she still had no idea that the Klan stole these garments from Catholic religious festivals in Spain? And she had somehow never seen them? And then she continued to refer to these processions as "the Catholic Klansmen" throughout the rest of the book?! Girl, really?? I shutter to think of how disrespectful she would be of Hindu swastika motifs if she ever went to India.
But as much as I grew to dislike the narrator, I powered through, hate-reading mostly, until she finally got to her research about African slavery in Spain. Literally 80% of the way through the book, she finally finds something to like about Spain other than Spanish men. Finally, she finds a connection that she probably would have made a decade earlier if she read anything about Spain's extremely multi-cultural history, the Moors, and Spain and Portugal's involvement in the slave trade, all of which are normal things known in history that would be in any history about Iberia. Ugh. This final revelation is the only reason I am giving this book 2 stars instead of 1. I would have happily read a book about her traveling around Spain, learning about the African history there, its impact on its culture, all of that... but instead she leaves that for the very end of this book, where it feels unsatisfying. As a Mexican and Portuguese person, I feel no loyalty ties to Spain, but somehow this book has even me feeling robbed of the complexity and unique character of Spain and its people.
January 22, 2020
I enjoyed this story that was mostly part coming of age romance and part travelogue.
There is mention of culturally insensitive/racist incidents throughout but I appreciated that there was also a journey that eventully enabled the author to have peace regarding some of those tensions as an adult.
There is mention of culturally insensitive/racist incidents throughout but I appreciated that there was also a journey that eventully enabled the author to have peace regarding some of those tensions as an adult.
June 19, 2020
I enjoyed the travel aspect of this memoir, but the young author just came across as rather whiny and emotionally needy. She was certainly candid in the depiction of her struggle to fit in and find her place, but she just seemed like the kind of person that would wear on anyone after awhile.
January 27, 2021
Fun, quick read about a Midwestern girl's interest in other cultures and languages and how she navigated her Americanness and her Blackness abroad. As a WOC who also studied abroad in Salamanca, this brought back a lot of memories and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
August 27, 2014
Kinky Gazpacho
Kinky Gazpacho by Lori L. Tharps is a memoir of her growing up in a Black American, middle-class family, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Despite her parents’ education and background, Lori had a lack of self-worth concerning her origins. This was evident when she was in third grade, during International Day at a private school.
At one point, Lori’s parents sent their children to public school for a year. Lori deemed this an experiment. However, because of her middle-class background and clear, expressive speech, she was not accepted by the three other minorities in her class. She and her older sister were returned to private school. By seventh grade, Lori regards herself a hispanófilo. She longs to someday visit Spain.
Due to the stereotyping and racist jokes she experienced as a young girl, the effects of negative prejudices were probably hidden throughout her childhood. She didn’t confront her friend’s teen sister who drove them home as she told a racist joke to a fellow student. Lori questioned, “Maybe I was different? Special? Maybe she forgot I was Black since I was so good at fitting in with all the whiteness around me.” At school and in her neighborhood, Lori’s friends were white.
At Smith College, Lori decided she would dissociate with white students. She attempted to befriend Black students. Most Black Smith College students are from middle and upper-middle class backgrounds. Lori felt she would have something in common with them. She wanted to fit in. However, this turned out to be a fiasco. The young women weren’t friendly. But I think Lori didn’t give them a chance. Tucked inside Lori was years of feeling like an outsider on both sides. The young women didn’t welcome her with open arms. Lori thought she knew the reason, but I liken this to your first person in writing. Your protagonist does not know what another person is thinking.
Yet Lori learned the importance of friendship with a group of like-minded friends, regardless of skin color. She and friends formed Lamb Bhuna, an exclusive multi-culti, hush-hush, affirmative-action, eating club. I thought the title hilarious. In fact, the book, although written with sensitivity and poignancy is sometimes peppered with hilarity.
In her junior year, Lori attended Salamanca University in Salamanca, Spain. She felt she would meet her destiny there. She wanted to absorb the culture and its people. She discovered that some Spaniards were not friendly. They pointed and stared and called her morena, negrita and chocolate. Few Spanish students were interested in befriending Americans, but she had more male attention in one semester than she thought possible. However, their interest was her exoticism.
Lori did meet a Spaniard, Manuel, in college. They seemed to connect immediately. Both had similar tastes, opinions, and were family oriented. Eventually, he would take her home to meet his family who welcomed her with open arms.
At the end of the semester, on Lori’s return home, Manuel flew to Wisconsin that summer and worked as an au pair on a student visa to be near her.
All though Lori was disappointed with her utopia, and constantly found fault in the country, she discovered Spain’s Black historical past and a connection.
In Manuel she discovered a kind, patient, and considerate man. Kindness can make you feel cared for, understood, and validated—feel loved. Lori’s family loved him and she did too. She had met her destiny. This is a wonderful memoir of growth: loving and accepting oneself. It is of friendship, and an expressive, tender love story.
After a six-year on-again-off-again courtship, the two married and are the parents of two sons.
I did understand Lori found most Spaniards behavior unsatisfactory or unacceptable toward people of color. But she also realized that Manuel’s family for the most part, welcomed her with open arms.
I’m surprised her middle-class parents did not discuss Black history with their children. Lori should not have had the feeling of low self-esteem. Concerning International Day, she shuddered at the thought of dressing up as a slave to represent her people. With a little ingenuity, her parent(s) would have discovered: Queen Ahmose-Nefertari (1562 – 1495 BC), Queen Tiye (1398 – 1338 BC), known for her wisdom and beauty, she became the Great Royal Spouse of Pharaoh Amenhotep III.
Pharaoh Akhenaton (Amenhotep IV) was one of the many children conceived by Queen Tiye and Pharaoh Amenhotep III. Her grandson was King Tut. In addition, there was Candace of Meroe, legendary queen of Kush and many, many more.
Other issues were: If Lori had a sense of self before she set foot in Spain, she would have been unshakable in dealing with racism, and who she is. This should have taken place in her childhood.
Lori and Manuel should have educated each other about their family’s culture, challenged false beliefs about each other’s way of life, adjusted and adapted to one another’s customs. And last, showed patience as your partner adapts.
True Season of Love
Kinky Gazpacho by Lori L. Tharps is a memoir of her growing up in a Black American, middle-class family, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Despite her parents’ education and background, Lori had a lack of self-worth concerning her origins. This was evident when she was in third grade, during International Day at a private school.
At one point, Lori’s parents sent their children to public school for a year. Lori deemed this an experiment. However, because of her middle-class background and clear, expressive speech, she was not accepted by the three other minorities in her class. She and her older sister were returned to private school. By seventh grade, Lori regards herself a hispanófilo. She longs to someday visit Spain.
Due to the stereotyping and racist jokes she experienced as a young girl, the effects of negative prejudices were probably hidden throughout her childhood. She didn’t confront her friend’s teen sister who drove them home as she told a racist joke to a fellow student. Lori questioned, “Maybe I was different? Special? Maybe she forgot I was Black since I was so good at fitting in with all the whiteness around me.” At school and in her neighborhood, Lori’s friends were white.
At Smith College, Lori decided she would dissociate with white students. She attempted to befriend Black students. Most Black Smith College students are from middle and upper-middle class backgrounds. Lori felt she would have something in common with them. She wanted to fit in. However, this turned out to be a fiasco. The young women weren’t friendly. But I think Lori didn’t give them a chance. Tucked inside Lori was years of feeling like an outsider on both sides. The young women didn’t welcome her with open arms. Lori thought she knew the reason, but I liken this to your first person in writing. Your protagonist does not know what another person is thinking.
Yet Lori learned the importance of friendship with a group of like-minded friends, regardless of skin color. She and friends formed Lamb Bhuna, an exclusive multi-culti, hush-hush, affirmative-action, eating club. I thought the title hilarious. In fact, the book, although written with sensitivity and poignancy is sometimes peppered with hilarity.
In her junior year, Lori attended Salamanca University in Salamanca, Spain. She felt she would meet her destiny there. She wanted to absorb the culture and its people. She discovered that some Spaniards were not friendly. They pointed and stared and called her morena, negrita and chocolate. Few Spanish students were interested in befriending Americans, but she had more male attention in one semester than she thought possible. However, their interest was her exoticism.
Lori did meet a Spaniard, Manuel, in college. They seemed to connect immediately. Both had similar tastes, opinions, and were family oriented. Eventually, he would take her home to meet his family who welcomed her with open arms.
At the end of the semester, on Lori’s return home, Manuel flew to Wisconsin that summer and worked as an au pair on a student visa to be near her.
All though Lori was disappointed with her utopia, and constantly found fault in the country, she discovered Spain’s Black historical past and a connection.
In Manuel she discovered a kind, patient, and considerate man. Kindness can make you feel cared for, understood, and validated—feel loved. Lori’s family loved him and she did too. She had met her destiny. This is a wonderful memoir of growth: loving and accepting oneself. It is of friendship, and an expressive, tender love story.
After a six-year on-again-off-again courtship, the two married and are the parents of two sons.
I did understand Lori found most Spaniards behavior unsatisfactory or unacceptable toward people of color. But she also realized that Manuel’s family for the most part, welcomed her with open arms.
I’m surprised her middle-class parents did not discuss Black history with their children. Lori should not have had the feeling of low self-esteem. Concerning International Day, she shuddered at the thought of dressing up as a slave to represent her people. With a little ingenuity, her parent(s) would have discovered: Queen Ahmose-Nefertari (1562 – 1495 BC), Queen Tiye (1398 – 1338 BC), known for her wisdom and beauty, she became the Great Royal Spouse of Pharaoh Amenhotep III.
Pharaoh Akhenaton (Amenhotep IV) was one of the many children conceived by Queen Tiye and Pharaoh Amenhotep III. Her grandson was King Tut. In addition, there was Candace of Meroe, legendary queen of Kush and many, many more.
Other issues were: If Lori had a sense of self before she set foot in Spain, she would have been unshakable in dealing with racism, and who she is. This should have taken place in her childhood.
Lori and Manuel should have educated each other about their family’s culture, challenged false beliefs about each other’s way of life, adjusted and adapted to one another’s customs. And last, showed patience as your partner adapts.
True Season of Love
April 5, 2020
I enjoyed this true story.
July 26, 2020
Really enjoyed this book. I liked her writing and it was just a fun read. An interesting perspective on being black in Spain.
August 1, 2022
Good beach read!
July 28, 2025
my favorite chapter was Rupert (ch. 10)! I was able to learn about the history of slaves in southern Spain as well as be immersed in the author’s infatuation with Spain
Displaying 1 - 29 of 97 reviews