“I wish I could find the words to tell you the story of our village after you were killed.” So begins Senegal Taxi, the new work by one of contemporary poetry’s most vibrant voices, Juan Felipe Herrera. Known for his activism and writings that bring attention to oppression and injustice, Herrera turns to stories of genocide and hope in Sudan. Senegal Taxi offers the voices of three children escaping the horrors of war in Africa.
Unflinching in its honesty, brutality, and beauty, the collection fiercely addresses conflict and childhood, inviting readers to engage in complex and often challenging issues. Senegal Taxi weaves together verse, dialogue, and visual art created by Herrera specifically for the book. Stylistically genre-leaping, these many layers are part of the collection’s innovation. Phantom-like televisions, mud drawings, witness testimonies, insects, and weaponry are all storytellers that join the siblings for a theatrical crescendo. Each poem is told from a different point of view, which Herrera calls “mud drawings,” referring to the evocative symbols of hope the children create as they hide in a cave on their way to Senegal, where they plan to catch a boat to the United States.
This collection signals a poignant shift for Herrera as he continues to use his craft to focus attention on global concerns. In so doing, he offers an acknowledgment that the suffering of some is the suffering of all.
Juan Felipe Herrera is the only son of Lucha Quintana and Felipe Emilio Herrera; the three were campesinos living from crop to crop on the roads of the San Joaquín Valley, Southern California and the Salinas Valley. Herrera's experiences as the child of migrant farmers have strongly shaped his work, such as the children's book Calling the Doves, which won the Ezra Jack Keats award in 1997. He is a poet, performer, writer, cartoonist, teacher, and activist who draws from real life experiences as well as years of education to inform his work. Community and art has always been part of what has driven Herrera, beginning in the mid-seventies, when he was director of the Centro Cultural de la Raza, an occupied water tank in Balboa Park converted into an arts space for the community. Herrera’s publications include fourteen collections of poetry, prose, short stories, young adult novels and picture books for children in the last decade with twenty-one books in total.
"In his most recent book of poems, “Senegal Taxi,” about children caught in the violence of Sudan, Herrera repeatedly cries: “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” That’s an imperative close to his heart.
“Waking up is the biggest thing,” he said. “I’m a political poet — let us say a human poet, a poet that’s concerned with the plight of people who suffer. If words can be of assistance, then that’s what I’m going to use.” - https://www.washingtonpost.com/entert...
I hate to begin this review by pointing out the politics of this collection, because I know for some right now, in our current political climate, it's too much. But, I want to welcome you to read why it isn't too much. Herrera writes for spoken delivery, you can hear the performative nature is you read even a few lines aloud. To translate that onto the page is nothing short of powerful passion against injustice. This multilingual collection will speak to many readers of any age group, of any knowledge of poetry. You can feel Herrera's empathy for the subjects of these poems, and that is important because it makes readers more empathetic, and Dear sweet baby Jesus, we need a lot more of that right now.
I would highly recommend this work for fans of Deaf Republic. Herrera wove together a harrowing story of three children in South Sudan and their persecution by the Janjaweed.
Told through the drawings and hallucinations(?) of Ibrahim, who hopes to save his two siblings by taking them on a taxi to Senegal and then to New York City, where he foresees himself driving taxis for a living, telling his story to his passengers.
Interspersed is a political commentary between an ex-(?)Janjaweed member and an American newscaster, which contrasts the experience of the children by presenting the political implications of the Darfur conflict.
At some points, the transition between pieces of the stories were shaky, and it was unclear as to what actually happened or what Herrera was trying to convey in the political message . Nonetheless, this is a passionate work that attempted a complex structure to tell a tragic story of an entire people's sorrow - all in under 100 pages. This one will absolutely stick with me.
I'm really torn on the rating. This books is somewhere between a 3 and a 4. It's written chaotically. Short bursts of prose poem, really effective uses of shape and formatting to bolster the emotion of others. It's a very exciting (if that's the right word for a book whose main focus is the Janjaweed) book when you first start reading. The art work littered throughout is similar in style to the cover and really keeps you engaged in the story. But what didn't work as well was a fictionalized interview broadcasting from a broken television upturned in the mud of a ruined house that forms a sort of backbone to the collection. The interview subject is stiff and when he finally erupts, it doesn't feel sincere. This part of the collection was great in theory but not as well executed as I wanted it to be. And in those parts of the book I felt like the writer was trying to draw me in more than just to awareness, but political action. A noble goal, but one that just kind of reads as a little too foolish or idealistic in an otherwise serious book.
I enjoyed the different forms in this book of poetry, especially the news transcripts/interviews. It was difficult to figure the story out. I was struck by the story gem that the protagonist drew pictures while hiding from the Janjaweed, and essentially these pictures served as a dream realization for escape. Truly it showed the power of visualization- although this was only in 1 poem, the message is profound. The character pounded gold from the bullets' casings and then bargained with the soldiers to get free. I was put off by the titles of the drawing poems as "Mud Drawing...." I think many of the poems about loss of relatives were powerful, reflecting a state of destroyed and wounded mind.
I've adopted a brutal reading method. I will be seduced by the language, the story, the structure, the plot, the character...I WILL! Or I will not finish the book.
I will not read poorly written, mangled language. I got to page 60 of 90, and then had to just accept that there is no reason to finish the remaining 30 pages. There were enough poorly chosen words the author attempted to pass off as artistic. Stick school? Drooling arms? Ancient craze wars? the shoot waves? These purposefully discordant adjectives are not artistic. They do not foster empathy for children of war. It's lazy writing and just plain antagonistic to the reader.
The punchy poetry is meant to evoke the violence of the conflict in the Sudan, and does this by speaking with the voices of children escaping the horrors, the voices of victims, the voice of an ant who is witness to the conflict, and the voices of some of the weapons used, bombs, and the ever-present Ak-47.
It kind of works. I'm not the biggest fan of poetry at all, and the emotional tone of this will pull you apart, but it's spotty and jagged and seems like a boutique project, based on the author's pedigree and history. An afternoon perusal, but not a serious read.
Senegal Taxi by Juan Felipe Herrera is a small volume of poetry that is both political and raw in content. Herrera uses the voices of three children to focus his poetry on the suffering and horrors of war in Darfur. Reading Senegal Taxi was a heart-wrenching experience that has yet loosened its grip on me.
I honestly didn't get what was going on in some of the scenes described in these poems. I know what happened in Darfur, and the poems contained horrific images, but I'm unclear as to what happened to the three children at the end. I'll have to read something nonfiction about it--maybe that will fill in the gaps.
I liked the concept of this book much more than the execution. In particular, the TV interview sections could have been re-imagined. As they are now, the dialogue is awful and it explains too much. There could have been another way to get this information across.
It screams the most when Herrera slips into poetry. I would like to see this performed. Then it would have even more impact. The page hinders the power of this book, even though the periods in the staccato sections stomp.
I read this whole book in one sitting and it pulled me into a bit of a trance at times. I like to read poetry out loud, though some of Senegal Taxi doesn't lend it self easily to that. Much of this book is truly great. Some of the ending bits seemed heavy handed to me. A powerful work.
Militia slaughtering rebels, tearing apart villages, destroying a country. Three children, brothers and sister, made orphans by the horror, try to salvage sense from their mutilated dreams.