Butterfly Boy: Memories of a Chicano Mariposa (Writing in Latinidad: Autobiographical Voices of U.S. Latinos/as)

heartbreaking, Poetic, And Intensely Personal, butterfly Boy Is A Unique Coming Out And Coming-of-age Story Of A First-generation Chicano Who Trades One Life For Another, Only To Discover That History And Memory Are Not Exchangeable Or Forgettable. publishers Weekly this Moving Memoir Of A Young Chicano Boy's Maturing Into A Self-accepting Gay Adult Is A Beautifully Executed Portrait Of The Experience Of Being Gay, Chicano And Poor In The United States. Now An Associate Professor Of English And Latino Studies At University Of Illinois At Urbana-champaign, Gonzalez Writes In A Poetic Yet Straightforward Style That Heightens The Power Of His Story (mariposa Is Spanish For Faggot As Well As Butterfly). As He Describes Growing Up In An Extended Migrant-worker Family, His Youth In Bakersfield, Calif., And His Departure For College, Some Readers May Recognize Similar Characters And Situations From His 2003 Novel, Crossing Vines (university Of Oklahoma). Like Other Gay Coming-of-age Memoirs, This One Recounts The Hardship Of Being An Effeminate Youth With A High Singing Voice And A Penchant For Cross-dressing, And The Delight In Discovering The Homoeroticism Of Classic Literature By Melville And E.m. Forster. But Gonzalez Transforms These Standard Conceits Into An Affecting Narrative In Which His Class And Ethnic Identities Are As Vital As His Often Painful Metamorphosis Into A Fully Formed Gay Man. (sept.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information. Heartbreaking, poetic, and intensely personal, Butterfly Boy is a unique coming out and coming-of-age story of a first-generation Chicano who trades one life for another, only to discover that history and memory are not exchangeable or forgettable. Growing up among poor migrant Mexican farmworkers, Rigoberto Gonzlez also faces the pressure of coming-of-age as a gay man in a culture that prizes machismo. Losing his mother when he is twelve, Gonzlez must then confront his fathers abandonment and an abiding sense of cultural estrangement, both from his adopted home in the United States and from a Mexican birthright. His only sense of connection gets forged in a violent relationship with an older man. By finding his calling as a writer, and by revisiting the relationship with his father during a trip to Mexico, Gonzlez finally claims his identity at the intersection of race, class, and sexuality. The result is a leap of faith that every reader who ever felt like an outsider will immediately recognize. 2007 Finalist, Randy Shilts Awards for Gay Nonfiction, Publishing TriangleWinner, American Book Awards, Before Columbus Foundation "Butterfly Boy is a coming out and coming-of-age story of a first-generation Chicano who trades one life for another, only to discover that history and memory are not exchangeable or forgettable." "Growing up among poor migrant Mexican farmworkers, Rigoberto Gonzalez also faces the pressure of coming-of-age as a gay man in a culture that prizes machismo. Losing his mother when he is twelve, Gonzalez must subsequently confront his father's abandonment and an abiding sense of cultural estrangement, both from his adopted home in the United States and from a Mexican birthright that seems increasingly foreign and inhospitable. His only sense of connection gets forged in a violent relationship with an older man. By slowly finding his calling as a writer, and by revisiting the relationship with his father during a revelatory trip to Mexico, Gonzalez finally claims his identity at the complex intersection of race, class, and sexuality. The result is a leap of faith that every reader who ever felt like an outsider will immediately recognize."--BOOK JACKET "Heartbreaking, poetic, and intensely personal, this is a unique coming-out and coming-of-age story of a first-generation Chicano who trades one life for another, only to discover that history and memory are not exchangeable or forgettable. Growing up among poor migrant Mexican farmworkers, González also faces the pressure of coming-of-age as a gay man in a culture that prizes machismo. Losing his mother when he is twelve, González must then confront his father's abandonment and an abiding sense of cultural estrangement. His only sense of connection gets forged in a violent relationship with an older man. By finding his calling as a writer, and by revisiting the relationship with his father during a trip to Mexico, González finally claims his identity at the intersection of race, class, and sexuality. The result is a leap of faith that every reader who ever felt like an outsider will immediately recognize"--From publisher description The poet, novelist, and children's author presents a coming-of-age memoir revealing his struggles with race, class, and sexuality.