Arizona Books

The lives of Chicanos and Mexicanos have become a welcome and fertile ground for some of our most talented, young poets (Rigoberto Gonzalez and John Olivares Espinoza come to mind). Juan Delgado with his new collection "A Rush of Hands" is no exception. But Delgado also addresses those simple, beautiful experiences that cross all ethnic lines. An example is his short poem, "Kiss":

As you spoke, a cricket sang
In my tumbleweed heart,
And wild sage surrounded us.

When your lips touched me,
A bird felt a fountain
With its fluttering wing.

(If "Kiss" doesn't make you break out in a smile, then you must never have loved!) Both despair and joy permeate Delgado's honest, uncomplicated yet lyrical lines. This is a beautiful, powerful rush of words.

Here is the table of contents, for those who want to know a bit more.

Introduction "The Concepts of `Sacred Geography': Its Origin and Scope"
F. K Lehman (University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign)

One "Mapping the Sacred in Theravada Buddhist Southeast Asia"
Juliane Schober (Arizona State University)

Two "Place, Power, and Discourse in the Thai Image of Bangkok"
Richard O'Connor (University of the South)

Three "Transformations and Continuities: Sacralization, Place, and Memory in Contemporary Bangkok"
Marc Askew (Victoria University of Technology)

Four "Landscape of Pilgrimage, Landscape of Power: Social Interactions at Vijayanagara Temple Complexes"
Alexandra Mack (Pitney Bowes)

Five "New Sacred Lands: The Making of a Christian Prayer Mountain in Highland Borneo"
Matthew Amster (Gettysburg College)

Six "Muslim Spaces in South Asia"
David Damrel (Arizona State University)

Seven "An Accidental Imago Mundi: Spatializing Social and Religious Change in Islamic Java"
Ronald Lukens-Bull (University of North Florida)

Eight "Ini Masih Kerajaan (This is Still a Kingdom): Sacred Geography and Social Drama in Yogyakarta."
Mark Woodward (Arizona State University)

"The cranes called to me one windy autumn night. I lay on the couch, absorbed in a novel when a distant sound--compelling, familiar--propelled me upright to listen. There it was again, faint but unmistakable: 'khrrrrr, khrrrrr,' the throaty cry of sandhill cranes."

In "The San Luis Valley: Sand Dunes and Sandhill Cranes," as in her earlier books, Tweit is a poet. Her opening paragraph, quoted above, compels the reader to listen and read on. Luminous reflective passages occur throughout the book, passages in which Tweit explores such subjects as the meaning of "home" (25) or where our "profound and courageous" visions may come from (43).

These exquisitely wrought personal responses to some of the mysteries we share with our fellow creatures, as well as with one another, are woven into beautiful descriptions of the birds and the landscapes they inhabit, along with a lively and detailed history of the San Luis Valley--a stunning tapestry.

To adequately describe a place like the San Pedro River, if such a complex and fascinating place can ever be adequately described, one must know it like an old friend. To reach that level of familiarity, one has to have spent countless hours with the place, gaining an intimate knowledge of the multitudes of nuances and wonders to which the casual visitor will be oblivious.

If a person gains such a level of understanding of a great natural area, and if that person happens to be an accomplished writer, a worthwhile and entertaining book may be the result, if we, the readers, are lucky. Fortunately, that is precisely what has happened in the case of the book, The San Pedro River, by Roseann Hanson.

Few areas in our country are more biologically rich than the San Pedro River. This small river and the riparian forest that surrounds it are home to more species of wild animals than virtually any other area of equal size on the North American Continent. Nearly 400 species of birds have been seen there. The San Pedro was named one of the Last Great Places in the Northern Hemisphere by the Nature Conservancy. Having been there, I would not hesitate to drive thousands of miles to walk its banks again.

Ms Hanson knows the San Pedro River from having roamed its forests over much of her life. Too, she is an alert observer and an excellent writer with a deep understanding of people and wildlife, and a real gift for description. Her rendition of the call of a yellow-billed cuckoo was so well done that I instantly recognized the bird before reading its name later in the text. I could hear the call; it took me back to the West Virginia Appalachians where I grew up, and to the haunting song of what we then called the rain crow.

If you have any interest in birding, in wildlife, in ecology, in the Southwest, in the preservation of certain of our most precious natural areas, or in the San Pedro River itself, or if you simply have a desire to sit down and read something that can transport you to an incredibly interesting outdoor area, buy at least two copies of this book. You'll want to share it with friends, and you won't want to be without a copy yourself.

The Sanctuary Movement of the 1980's, in defiance of U.S. government policy, sought to protect the human rights of Central American refugees fleeing persecution in their homelands.

Editors Otter and Pine have compiled compelling stories from the oral history of grassroots participants in Southern Arizona during those days. It all started with five faith communities declaring to the government that they would be sanctuaries for refugees in the face of the government's denial of their rights under both domestic and international law. Even in the face of legal prosecution this movement grew across the nation. In less than four years more than 500 congregations, college and university student bodies, cities, counties, and even the states of New Mexico and Wisconsin publically declared themselves to be sanctuaries for refugees and this movement had a noticeable impact on national policy.

These are stories of sanctuary workers on the front line. These are some of the voices of those who did not have a voice. They provide insight into the motivations and experience of women and men, in any era or country, who decide to stand up for what they believe is right in the face of overwhelming odds.

I really enjoyed this book. The stories were interesting and believable. I think ghost interactions are much more subtle than you usually see on TV and in movies and Scare-Izona supports this. I also like that the authors direct you in how to conduct your own ghost investigations and don't tell you that you have to have thousands of dollars in expensive equipment. A lot of ghost "experts" make it sound like they are the only people qualified to have a ghost experience. Scare-Izona shows you that isn't true. Anyone could do it, if they were brave enough. (Which I'm not, based on some of the experiences the authors had!)

I definitely recommend this book, especially if you live in or are planning a trip to southern Arizona. Read it before you book your hotels, so you know where to go to see (or avoid) the ghosts!

A Scattering Of Jades is an anthology of Aztec literature, expertly compiled and edited by anthropologist Timothy J. Knab, and deftly translated into English by Nahatl scholar Thelma D. Sullivan. Most of the stories, poems, and prayers are brief yet vividly evocative. The world view of this ancient civilization; the everyday life of its people; and a unique glimpse into Mesoamerican culture make A Scattering Of Jades an unforgettable and highly valued contribution to the growing library of available Aztec Literature and Pre-European Native American Studies collections.

This imaginative book is a lovely introduction to the variety of opportunities in the southwest. Well organized and cross-indexed, it presents an inviting description of not only where, but also when, to find spectacular natural events. The well-written Seasonal Guide is a pleasure to read and indispensable for planning an itinerary.

The Secret Life of a Snowbird: An Inside Look at Retirement in America's Sunbelt is the delightful memoir of Len Schritter, telling of how he and his wife chose to join tens of thousands of other "snowbirds" and migrate from blizzard-prone Idaho to retirement in sunny Arizona. From Len's introduction to the cult-like ritual of Wednesday night bingo, to the merciless inspections of the resort community's weed police, the ups and downs of Len's adjustment are recounted in gentle vignettes. A tongue-in-cheek accounting marked by insight into retirement community life as only an ex-potato farmer can see it, highly recommended.

Writing about Oak Creek Canyon can be like writing about the Grand Canyon: it is difficult to find something that has not been said. Lawrence Cheek is one of the finest writers I have read; he not only covers his subject seamlessly, but reading his work is a pure pleasure for the language. He is erudite without ever being stuffy, descriptive without being flowery and thoroughly entertaining.
I highly recommend this book for anyone who wants an oveview of the Oak Creek area.