Judith+Ortiz+Cofer+(2)



Judith Ortiz Cofer Austin Parsons B1

Judith Ortiz Cofer was born in Hormiguerosn in 1952. She is now an English Professor at the University of Georgia. Her most famous poems, Hispanic based, include "Esperanza", "Me Olvido", "The Latin Deli:An Ars Poetica", and "The Pleasures of Fear".

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Esperanza:
My name mocks me for I was born at the cost of my mother’s life, earning my father’s hatred with my first breath. All my life I have scoured a house soiled with the thick soot of his resentment. It has left its mark on the walls, in his eyes, and on me. All of it I have tried to wipe away. In my hands I hold a broom, in my heart— ashes, ashes.

Response:
Judith Ortiz Cofer's "Esperanza" entitles the death of a mother during child birth. "For I was born at the cost of my mother's life" is viewed as the central theme of this entire poem. This is a women that has lived the entirety of her life without a loving caring mother, that is now being pushed away by her father, "It has left its mark on the walls, in his eyes, and on me." This poem reminded me of the popular Star Wars series. In this, a main character Padme dies during child birth, this leads the father, Anakin, to live the rest of his life in regret for he tried pushing his wife pasted the constraints of her nature. My initial reaction to this poem was an overwhelming amount of sorrow for the daughter for she lives life as a prisoner in the ashes of her mother. I decided to chose this poem because of the way it is written, This poem is composed of only 14 lines but the indignant tone leaves the reader in awe; lines such as ,"All of it I have tried to wipe away" or "I have scoured a house soiled" indeed show this tone. The metaphor of "I have scoured a house soiled" shows that the father has abandoned all sense of cleanliness while too constantly reminding the daughter of the death of her mother. The constant element of cleaning ("I hold a broom","a house soiled", or "mark on the walls") shows that the father has left all chores to his daughter which shows the hatred that the father holds for his daughter; a daughter that has done nothing to deserve the harsh treatment that she has been given the entirety of her life. All though I can not relate to this poem, anyone that has lost a loved one, especially their mother will be able to relate to this poem quite easily, considering this poem is directly written about death and sorrow.

Me Olvido:
It is a dangerous thing to forget the climate of your birthplace, to choke out the voices of dead relatives when in dreams they call you by your secret name. to disdain the plaster saints before which your mother kneels praying with embarrassing fervor that you survive in the place you have chosen to live: a bare, cold room with no pictures on the walls, a forgetting place where she fears you will die of loneliness and exposure. //Jesús, María, y José//, she says, //el olvido is a dangerous thing.// It is dangerous to spurn the clothes you were born to wear for the sake of fashion; dangerous to use weapons and sharp instruments you are not familiar with; dangerous

Response:
This poem in particular is about the danger of forgetting. Simply forgetting something isn't the danger that this poem is warning the reader about but however mental illness. A disease such as Alzheimer's will cause one to forget key elements of one's life forever such as "your secret name" or "the climate of your birth place". This poem reminds when I went and visited my grandfather in an nursing home; his roommate was being visited by his daughter and mother. His roommate originally thought he was being visited by complete random strangers, I saw the horror and sorrow in his daughter's eyes for she is no longer a part of his distinct fading memory. This is similar to line 3 ,"to choke out the voices of dead relatives", to forgot entirely that a family member prior to you existed. The tone of this poem is similar to that of "Esperanza" which is sorrow; line 16 summarizes the tone ," a forgetting place where she fears you will die of loneliness and exposure" this shows that the protagonist, the person with a lack of memory, is afraid of death in a place where she isn't cognitively able to approve. Cofer is too making a statement of oblivion, that you are who you are because of where you come from and remembering that is vital to who you are. At the end of the poem Cofer states that "clothes you were born to wear for the sake of fashion; dangerous" means that the clothes that you wear at variable X in your life has nothing to do with your individuality, who you are per se; but however, where you come from your birthplace and the composition of your family makes you who you are by definition. The fellow in the mental hospital with my grandfather remembered quite nothing, towards the end of his journey he began to forget the name of his spouse and eventually himself; for him was the beginning of the end, like Cofer warns us of.

The Latin Deli:An Ars Poetica
Presiding over a formica counter, plastic Mother and Child magnetized to the top of an ancient register, the heady mix of smells from the open bins of dried codfish, the green plantains hanging in stalks like votive offerings, she is the Patroness of Exiles, a woman of no-age who was never pretty, who spends her days selling canned memories while listening to the Puerto Ricans complain that it would be cheaper to fly to San Juan than to buy a pound of Bustelo coffee here, and to Cubans perfecting their speech of a 'glorious return' to Havana- where no one has been allowed to die and nothing to change until then; to Mexicans who pass through, talking lyrically <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">of dólares to be made in El Norte-

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">all wanting the comfort <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">of spoken Spanish, to gaze upon the family portrait <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">of her plain wide face, her ample bosom <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">resting on her plump arms, her look of maternal interest <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">as they speak to her and each other <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">of their dreams and their disillusions- <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">how she smiles understanding, <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">when they walk down the narrow aisles of her store <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">reading the labels of packages aloud, as if <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">they were the names of lost lovers; Suspiros, <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">Merengues, the stale candy of everyone's childhood.

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">She spends her days <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">slicing jamón y queso and wrapping it in wax paper <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">tied with string: plain ham and cheese <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">that would cost less at the A&P, but it would not satisfy <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">the hunger of the fragile old man lost in the folds <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">of his winter coat, who brings her lists of items <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">that he reads to her like poetry, or the others, <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">whose needs she must divine, conjuring up products <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">from places that now exist only in their hearts- <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 110%;">closed ports she must trade with.

Response:
Judith Ortiz Cofer’s poem entitled "The Latin Deli: An Ars Poetica" is about a general a blend of cultures. The story is told by a woman who works behind the counter of a deli while observing the many Spanish speaking people who come in to the shop to buy food and just sit down and talk. While observing all of these people that come in and out of the store, she notices all of the things that they all have in common even though they all come from different Spanish speaking backgrounds. The tone of the poem is that of being nostalgic about going back to where she was born and the cultures of the customers. She achieves her tone with the use of words such as ancient, exiles, lost lovers, stale, old man, and “places that now exist only in their hearts”. The theme of the poem is unity or that of harmony, it is incredible, from the prospective of the cashier, that all of these people from the vast variety of cultures are able to bond and become social with one another. I can relate to this poem because I too am a cashier at a grocery store, Ingles Markets to be exact. I too see that vast array of cultures that come in and out of the store; I agree with the view point of the protagonist. I daily see citizens weather they are black, white, Latino, Caribbean, Spanish, European etc. that are able to bond with one another to have a friendly shopping environment. This poem is really powerful because she herself is torn ethnically, her father is English speaking and able to communicate across cultures, however her mother is only Spanish speaking and nearly refuses to learn English, disabling herself from becoming more ethnically diverse.

The Pleasures of Fear:
We played a hiding game, the son of my mother's friend and I, until he chased me into the toolshed and bolted the door from outside. It was there, in the secret, moist dark, the child's game changed to adventure. As I listened through the splintered wood to his ragged breath, his weight pressing down on the thin wood, making it groan, waiting while I stood on the other side, I was caught in time, thrilled and afraid by his power, by his power to strike, and mine to yield.

I crouched close to the ground inhaling the sour-sweet potpourri of rancid oil, rotting wood, old leather, and rust. I could have died right then and there, of anticipation, and become one with the molecules in the laden air. I was deliciously afraid of all the invisible creeping, crawling dangers inhabiting the luscious ground where I squatted to pee, allowing impulse and need to fully overtake me, inviting all the demons that reside in dark damp hiding places into my most secret self.

Not since then has pleasure and fear in the dark been so finely tuned in my mind, except perhaps in moments of passion when all we know is surrendered to the demands of skin and blood.

Then the pizzicato of the predictable afternoon shower on that half remembered island, rain every day at four, and her piercing voice, growing nearer, the cutting slash of light. She had caught the boy peeking through a crack at me doing what? She did not want to know.

I was sent straight to the bath, as if the delectable stink of danger I had discovered could ever be washed off with plain soap and water.

Response:
My first time reading this poem completely caught me off guard, specifically the sinister demeanor of the third stanza, "Not since then has pleasure and fear in the dark been so finely tuned in my mind". This, in combination with the diction used in the first stanza such as ragged, moist, or thrilled, indicates a person consumed in utter pleasure by the presence darkness, dirt, and solitude, which fairly normal people object to. Being raised by utter "germaphobes" this piece made me cringe at the thought of an individual seeking pleasure by being alone in this strange creepy environment. This piece sounds awfully familiar when compared the famous "Gollum" from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. This creature spends the majority of his time crawling around in dark, moist, insect infested environments for pleasure; this creature is similar to the protagonist as seen in lines, "I crouched close to the ground", I was deliciously afraid of all the invisible creepy crawling danger" or even "inviting all the demons that reside in dark damp hiding places into my most secret self". The overall message of hiding who you are around others is what Cofer is trying to tell the audience; this message is most prevalent by the ending of the poem, "as if the delectable stink of danger I had discovered could ever be washed off". The protagonist is saying that the mother is trying to make her wash something off of that is an internal attribute that is unchangeable, unlike the opinion of her mother. On a different note, the second stanza indicates that this female has cavemen like characteristics, specifically, "the luscious ground where I squatted to pee". A place of pure happiness for this protagonists consists of, pee on the ground, insects crawling around abundantly, and darkness, sounds cavemen like to me.

Sources:
"Judith Ortiz Cofer." Poetry Foundation. Poetry Foundation. Web. 22 Feb. 2016.