Culled from previously unpublished material, this collection of writing and photography by John Howard Griffin was taken from the period during which he was writing and revising what would be his most famous book, the bestselling Black Like Me . Living in exile in Mexico at the time, along with his young family and aging parents, Griffin had been forced from his home town of Mansfield, Texas, by death threats from local white racists. Knowing that he would become a controversial public figure once he returned to the states, he kept an intimate journal of his ethical queries on racism and injustice—and to escape from his worries he also immersed himself in the culture of the Tarascan Indians of Michoacan. Accordingly, Robert Bonazzi's introduction contains substantial unpublished portions of the journals, and the main body of the book is made up of three essays by Griffin—one on photography and two about trips he made to photograph rural Mexico.
John Howard Griffin was a white American journalist who is best known for his account, Black Like Me, in which he details the experience of darkening his skin and traveling as a black man through Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia in 1959. (The racism that he encountered was so disturbing that he cut short the time that he had allotted for this very unique experiment, clearly demonstrating that no one would tolerate being treated as many blacks are, if he or she could possibly avoid it.)
*Available Light: Exile in Mexico* is a deeply reflective and richly detailed exploration of political exile, cultural identity, and artistic survival. It focuses on the experiences of individuals and communities—particularly artists, intellectuals, and political refugees—who found themselves in Mexico as a result of displacement, persecution, or ideological rupture in the 20th century. Through a blend of memoir, history, and critical observation, the book examines what it means to live in exile, and how Mexico became both sanctuary and stage for exiles from around the world.
Central to the narrative is the idea of *“available light”*—a metaphor for resilience and adaptation. Exile, in this context, is not only physical dislocation but a profound emotional and intellectual state. The book portrays Mexico as a land of paradoxes: politically volatile, yet culturally fertile; geographically distant, yet intimately connected to global movements of resistance, revolution, and creativity.
A key focus is on the influx of exiles during and after major global upheavals—the Spanish Civil War, World War II, and political purges in Latin America and the United States. Mexico, under various administrations, offered asylum to those fleeing fascism, Stalinism, and McCarthyism. These exiles included notable writers, filmmakers, painters, and philosophers who brought with them radical ideas, avant-garde aesthetics, and a commitment to social justice.
The book delves into the lives and works of several prominent émigrés, showing how exile shaped their artistic output and political consciousness. At the same time, it examines the tensions and transformations that occurred as these outsiders interacted with Mexican culture, politics, and indigenous histories. The result is a nuanced account of cultural exchange—one that resists romanticization while honoring the complexities of cross-cultural dialogue.
Themes of identity, memory, loss, and reinvention run throughout the book. Exile is depicted not just as suffering or disconnection, but as a state of potential—a space for new alliances, hybrid identities, and unexpected beauty. The narrative often reflects on the psychological weight of exile, including feelings of nostalgia, alienation, and the burden of witness.
Written with a lyrical yet incisive voice, the book weaves personal narrative with broader historical analysis. It is both intimate and expansive, drawing from archives, interviews, and personal recollections to build a layered understanding of exile in Mexico. The prose captures the texture of everyday life as much as the sweep of political history, grounding its themes in concrete detail.
Ultimately, *Available Light* is a meditation on displacement and creativity. It affirms that even in exile, individuals can find a way to illuminate the world around them—with whatever light remains, or can be made available. It stands as both a tribute to the resilience of the displaced and a reminder of the power of cultural sanctuary in a time of upheaval.