A traditional game of chance popular in Mexico and in Mexican American culture, Lotería is poetically rendered in Esteban Rodríguez’s eighth collection, with each poem revolving around one of the fifty-four cards. Using the image presented as a catalyst for exploration and self-reflection, Rodríguez unveils the familial journey between two countries and cultures through both a surreal and narrative lens. Here, a mother unearths a severed hand in the desert. A father discovers his heart among a heap of discarded items. And at one point, the speaker—toggling between his role as witness and son—finds himself in a canoe on a river contemplating the meaning behind an authentic experience. Lyrical, insightful, and honestly engaging, Lotería sheds light on a world that doesn’t so easily reveal itself, adding to Rodríguez’s prolific and important oeuvre.
And how could she, at that moment, not believe the moon was playing both sides, that it could be a bystander one night, and the next point its finger at these scattered women, children, men, some of whom are caught, and who, when sitting against the agents' trucks, stare up at the sky, convinced even the moon is laughing at their luck.
I read this in the “deck of cards” edition, which goes really well with the overarching theme. The cards are beautiful and sturdy, but my one complaint is that I am not going to underline or write on pages like I would with a regular book. At the same time, they would look cool up on a wall display of some sort.
The style is very narrative, and I think that Rodríguez shines most when he’s talking about parents: their journey, what they give up, and what they take on for their children. Sometimes this is the speaker talking about his own parents, sometimes he is speaking about other parents (the piece about Guatemalan parents in particular sticks out), but those were what I found most moving. Very moving, in fact. I was tearing up by the end, which really took me by surprise. When Rodríguez is cooking, he really hits hard.
Something that really jumped out at me is the presence of the father figure in these poems. His crossing journey is mentioned repeatedly, and his presence in the home looms large. He is not always a positive figure, but much more present and less negative than in poems by other contemporary Latinx poets, such as Eduardo Corral, Roy Guzmán, and others.
I think that this work is much more accessible than some of Rodríguez’s contemporaries, which is not a bad thing. He is not flexing the exact same muscles as those others, and, like I said, he can really hit some home runs. I think this would be a great “gateway” collection to get someone hooked on contemporary and/or Latinx poetry: not too hard to wrap your head around what’s going on, but it can move you in profound ways.
Concise, poignant, and beautiful. Using lotería cards as pseudo-prompts was a perfect vessel for bouncing between familial narrative, magical realism, and self reflection. Also Esteban literally sent me a copy for free when I inquired about where to find it, so that was special, thank u king!
After reading the synopsis I immediately added it to my TBR. I have a lot of memories around the game, and was eager to see how the poems were going to relate to each card. It was so well done! This books is amazing, and I love the way memories are recalled by the speaker, and the way we get to more intimately know the family and the speaker as the book goes on - their history and feelings. A must read!