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Glow of Our Sweat Francisco Aragon Books

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With poems, translations, and an essay, Francisco Aragón enacts a dialogue between poetry and prose, memory and imagination, self and other, as he deftly begins to un- cover a road where a gay, Latino, and cosmopolitan poet fully inhabits the world. More than a collection of poems, Glow of Our Sweat is a community of poems, one where multiple voices and genres mingle, converse, and commiserate.

Glow of Our Sweat Francisco Aragon Books

Aragon's Glow of Our Sweat, Lyrical Poetry of Depth and Resonance

To enter Francisco Aragon's Glow of Our Sweat is to meet a community of poems, most original by Aragon, others translations from Spanish into English of poets who have served as mentors to Aragon: Garcia Lorca, Ruben Dario, and Francisco X. Alarcon. Other poets too are part of this communal volume: Walt Whitman and Jack Spicer, again mentors and heroes to/of Aragon. His comrades in poetry are often gay: he sees in them a reflection of himself.
Glow of Our Sweat is a community of nineteen poems (a metaphor Aragon employs, for his poems are voices "that mingle, converse, commiserate") and one autobiographical prose essay, "Flyer, Closet, Poem."
First, the poetry. Aragon's poetic style tends toward the minimalist. Readers will find a brief, lean line, accessible vocabulary (Jack Spicer's influence, always choose fewer and simple words) and a brevity that leaves behind an echo of resonances (the latter a Spicer "word") that will likely lead readers back to a poem for a second if not a third reading. Therefore, reader, be warned that although Aragon's poetry appears to be simple and obvious, it is fraught with nuance, ambiguity and mystery.
Allow me to address a few poems. "Torso" is a poem in homage to Rilke's famous "Torso of an Archaic Apollo." The latter concludes with Rilke's famous exhortation: "You must change your life." Aragon's ending, however, is far more demanding if not shocking. His advice is: "go blind." He does not mean literal blindness. He means a blindness resulting from becoming one with something Other, like art, a poem or one's beloved. In the moment of "oneing," one becomes blind to the ego because our sight is fixed on a work of art or on the face of the beloved. Self-forgetting, therefore, is a kind of blindness. Of course, to become one with the torso of this poem, a headless torso therefore minus eyes and sight, one surrenders to a new way of living, of seeing, and of being. Aragon is asking much of his reader, and each must respond in his own unique way.
A trilogy of love poems is poignant and moving: "Earplugs," "Words in Space" and "Your Voice." Each poem captures a small characteristic of the beloved, one that returns the beloved's presence into the poet's life, the poet being thousands of miles away: the snore, the words, the voice. The latter if heard on the phone is enough to satisfy, an echo of a Lorca poem Aragon has translated for us, "The Poet Speaks with His Beloved on the Telephone." These three poems are further proof that in less there is more: each poem overflows with energy and emotion, allowing us more vividly to remember the "punch" that Aragon achieves by adopting a minimalist style.
If I had to choose a favorite among the nineteen poems, I would go with "Arttalk." A very brief poem, but watch out, it grabs you, shakes you and then settles you into pondering what indeed happened to you when you first met the poem, similar to what an Emily Dickinson poem can do to me: puzzle me and then open my eyes to a truth staring me in the face.
"Arttalk" is a satirical poem, mocking the la-de-dah talk of poets and artists, as if what they do is so far above the life and activity of ordinary people. Aragon dismisses such art talk in favor of a poetry that emphasizes the utter importance of living in the Now. One could describe this poem as a "carpe diem" poem, but such a description is too macrocosmic for Aragon. He zeroes in on seizing the not the day but the moment: such an intense seizing that "the remains of a moment:/glow of our sweat." A moment lived with all our being will of course cause a sweat, the sweat itself proof of our living well. And in italics Aragon teases us with the possibility of love (the true meaning of every "carpe diem " poem, seize love whenever it appears): "Why don't you paint/and shut your mouth/and I'll kiss it." Yes, forget the art talk and lets make art and love! At the end of the poem, Aragon writes, "after Jack Spicer (1925-1965)".
Readers should note that Aragon is a poet of specificity. He is never vague or nebulous. To avoid the latter, Aragon often locates his poems; thus, we know when we are in San Francisco (his native city), in New York City (Broadway), in Spain (Madrid), in France (Bordeaux), in Italy (Rome). His poetry thus takes upon itself a cosmopolitanism that is inclusive, making his and our world more a global village, a locus were we indeed become a part of a community, one where we feel comfortable, unafraid to be ourselves.
Second, the prose. Aragon's essay Flyer, Closet, Poem is a coming out declaration, or rather a memory of how he came out when he was a student and agreed publically to read his poetry, verse that reflected his sexual orientation. He questions himself about his involuntary coming out (he was invited to read his poetry, only realizing, after agreeing, that by reading aloud his verse he was outing himself); he wonders how often he has succumbed to "covering" his gay identity in order to fit in the straight world. He is careful to mention that he has never identified himself as a gay poet, never going out of his way to make this known. Yet he has never been reticent about being Latino. This is a paradox about which I wish Aragon had more deeply explored. On the other hand, he is in writing this essay claiming and proclaiming two important aspects of his poetic self: He is a Latino poet as well as a gay poet. But is there a need to proclaim either? It becomes moot when one reads his poetry: everything is there for those with the eyes to see. In this instance, we do not want to embrace "go blind" but rather D. H. Lawrence's "Look, now."
One final comment. Since Aragon is prone to being specific about "locus" in his poetry, I should try to locate him in the tradition of American poetry. For me, Aragon is an heir to William Carlos Williams, heir for ethnic reasons, for poetic style and for his emphasis on the real thing. He is also in the tradition of D.H. Lawrence in his exquisite attention to the Now. He embraces the moment, but at the same time he is ever aware of the past, which is never denied but enfolded in the Now. The most overt example of the latter is his poem honoring Louis Malle, "Ars Poetica."
I highly recommend Aragon's poetry. You will be enriched and nurtured by a poet who, I believe, has many books of poetry ahead of him.

Product details Paperback 72 pages Publisher Scapegoat Press; 1 edition (April 15, 2010) Language English ISBN-10 0979129133

Tags : Amazon.com: Glow of Our Sweat (9780979129131): Francisco Aragon: Books,Francisco Aragon,Glow of Our Sweat,Scapegoat Press,0979129133,American - Hispanic American,Literature & Fiction Poetry,Poetry,Poetry American Hispanic American
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Glow of Our Sweat Francisco Aragon Books Reviews

Francisco Aragon, a bilingual poet, essayist and editor of considerable talent and achievement, has exhibited a rare combination of insight and beautiful language in this fine book that explores one man's awareness of love and sensuality. I recommend it highly!

Hastings Wyman
While any poetry worthy of the name must inevitably reflect the personal (whether experiential or aspirational), Aragón's work seems immediate, drawing fresh animation from the objectives of time and place as refracted through the subjective prism of his connections to others, living and dead. The many telling details and turns of phrase root his work in an unsentimentally remembered world, dense by turns with lovers, mentors and literary ancestors. This he has observed richly, but has rendered with an economy that I find very potent (as in "the moon / a perfect coin, ushering us / to the graves," ("The Tailor") whose beauty warms even as it chills.

"Flyer, Closet, Poem," as a companion-piece essay that closes the volume, offers a more linear account of his efforts to integrate his sexuality into his life and his work (and each of them with the other). Intuition tells one that the insights he has gained have not only brought him peace but in so doing, lent new authority to his poetic voice as well. One is sure this outcome is the result of a rigorous enterprise, but one is pleased to infer it has been successful for him. Certainly I am grateful for feeling as if I had been invited to know him better, both as an artist and as a man.

William Young
Aragon's Glow of Our Sweat, Lyrical Poetry of Depth and Resonance

To enter Francisco Aragon's Glow of Our Sweat is to meet a community of poems, most original by Aragon, others translations from Spanish into English of poets who have served as mentors to Aragon Garcia Lorca, Ruben Dario, and Francisco X. Alarcon. Other poets too are part of this communal volume Walt Whitman and Jack Spicer, again mentors and heroes to/of Aragon. His comrades in poetry are often gay he sees in them a reflection of himself.
Glow of Our Sweat is a community of nineteen poems (a metaphor Aragon employs, for his poems are voices "that mingle, converse, commiserate") and one autobiographical prose essay, "Flyer, Closet, Poem."
First, the poetry. Aragon's poetic style tends toward the minimalist. Readers will find a brief, lean line, accessible vocabulary (Jack Spicer's influence, always choose fewer and simple words) and a brevity that leaves behind an echo of resonances (the latter a Spicer "word") that will likely lead readers back to a poem for a second if not a third reading. Therefore, reader, be warned that although Aragon's poetry appears to be simple and obvious, it is fraught with nuance, ambiguity and mystery.
Allow me to address a few poems. "Torso" is a poem in homage to Rilke's famous "Torso of an Archaic Apollo." The latter concludes with Rilke's famous exhortation "You must change your life." Aragon's ending, however, is far more demanding if not shocking. His advice is "go blind." He does not mean literal blindness. He means a blindness resulting from becoming one with something Other, like art, a poem or one's beloved. In the moment of "oneing," one becomes blind to the ego because our sight is fixed on a work of art or on the face of the beloved. Self-forgetting, therefore, is a kind of blindness. Of course, to become one with the torso of this poem, a headless torso therefore minus eyes and sight, one surrenders to a new way of living, of seeing, and of being. Aragon is asking much of his reader, and each must respond in his own unique way.
A trilogy of love poems is poignant and moving "Earplugs," "Words in Space" and "Your Voice." Each poem captures a small characteristic of the beloved, one that returns the beloved's presence into the poet's life, the poet being thousands of miles away the snore, the words, the voice. The latter if heard on the phone is enough to satisfy, an echo of a Lorca poem Aragon has translated for us, "The Poet Speaks with His Beloved on the Telephone." These three poems are further proof that in less there is more each poem overflows with energy and emotion, allowing us more vividly to remember the "punch" that Aragon achieves by adopting a minimalist style.
If I had to choose a favorite among the nineteen poems, I would go with "Arttalk." A very brief poem, but watch out, it grabs you, shakes you and then settles you into pondering what indeed happened to you when you first met the poem, similar to what an Emily Dickinson poem can do to me puzzle me and then open my eyes to a truth staring me in the face.
"Arttalk" is a satirical poem, mocking the la-de-dah talk of poets and artists, as if what they do is so far above the life and activity of ordinary people. Aragon dismisses such art talk in favor of a poetry that emphasizes the utter importance of living in the Now. One could describe this poem as a "carpe diem" poem, but such a description is too macrocosmic for Aragon. He zeroes in on seizing the not the day but the moment such an intense seizing that "the remains of a moment/glow of our sweat." A moment lived with all our being will of course cause a sweat, the sweat itself proof of our living well. And in italics Aragon teases us with the possibility of love (the true meaning of every "carpe diem " poem, seize love whenever it appears) "Why don't you paint/and shut your mouth/and I'll kiss it." Yes, forget the art talk and lets make art and love! At the end of the poem, Aragon writes, "after Jack Spicer (1925-1965)".
Readers should note that Aragon is a poet of specificity. He is never vague or nebulous. To avoid the latter, Aragon often locates his poems; thus, we know when we are in San Francisco (his native city), in New York City (Broadway), in Spain (Madrid), in France (Bordeaux), in Italy (Rome). His poetry thus takes upon itself a cosmopolitanism that is inclusive, making his and our world more a global village, a locus were we indeed become a part of a community, one where we feel comfortable, unafraid to be ourselves.
Second, the prose. Aragon's essay Flyer, Closet, Poem is a coming out declaration, or rather a memory of how he came out when he was a student and agreed publically to read his poetry, verse that reflected his sexual orientation. He questions himself about his involuntary coming out (he was invited to read his poetry, only realizing, after agreeing, that by reading aloud his verse he was outing himself); he wonders how often he has succumbed to "covering" his gay identity in order to fit in the straight world. He is careful to mention that he has never identified himself as a gay poet, never going out of his way to make this known. Yet he has never been reticent about being Latino. This is a paradox about which I wish Aragon had more deeply explored. On the other hand, he is in writing this essay claiming and proclaiming two important aspects of his poetic self He is a Latino poet as well as a gay poet. But is there a need to proclaim either? It becomes moot when one reads his poetry everything is there for those with the eyes to see. In this instance, we do not want to embrace "go blind" but rather D. H. Lawrence's "Look, now."
One final comment. Since Aragon is prone to being specific about "locus" in his poetry, I should try to locate him in the tradition of American poetry. For me, Aragon is an heir to William Carlos Williams, heir for ethnic reasons, for poetic style and for his emphasis on the real thing. He is also in the tradition of D.H. Lawrence in his exquisite attention to the Now. He embraces the moment, but at the same time he is ever aware of the past, which is never denied but enfolded in the Now. The most overt example of the latter is his poem honoring Louis Malle, "Ars Poetica."
I highly recommend Aragon's poetry. You will be enriched and nurtured by a poet who, I believe, has many books of poetry ahead of him.