Literary Nonfiction. Poetry. Latinx Studies. LGBTQIA Studies. Edited by Ricardo F. Vivancos-Pèrez and Norma Cantú. Rooted in Gloria Anzaldúa's experiences growing up near the U.S./Mexico border, BORDERLANDS/LA FRONTERA remaps our understanding of borders as psychic, social, and cultural terrains that we inhabit and that inhabit us all. Drawing heavily on archival research and a comprehensive literature review while contextualizing the book within her theories and writings before and after its 1987 publication, this critical edition elucidates Anzaldúa's complex composition process and its centrality in the development of her philosophy. It opens with two introductory studies; offers a corrected text, explanatory footnotes, translations, and four archival appendices; and closes with an updated bibliography of Anzaldúa's works, an extensive scholarly bibliography on Borderlands, a brief biography, and a short discussion of the Gloria E. Anzaldúa Papers. "Ricardo F. Vivancos-Pèrez's meticulous archival work and Norma Elia Cantú's life experience and expertise converge to offer a stunning resource for Anzaldúa scholars; for writers, artists, and activists inspired by her work; and for everyone. Hereafter, no study of Borderlands will be complete without this beautiful, essential reference."--Paola Bacchetta

In a warehouse in Santiago, three aging friends meet and await the arrival of a man from their past. Once militant supporters of Salvador Allende, they have grown disillusioned in the three and a half decades since his assassination. Their city has changed under Pinochet, and so have they: heart troubles, thinning hair, a few pounds too many around the waist; there is little left to connect them with their glory days. But now, the three friends have been called together at the behest of the anarchist, Pedro Nolasco, a.k.a. The Shadow, to carry out one final revolutionary gesture. But Lucho, Lolo and Cacho wait in vain; the sudden and gruesome death of The Shadow leaves them without a leader. Now they must turn to Coco Aravena, the most reckless of their former comrades. After years of playing second fiddle, this is the bumbling Coco's chance to show them what he is capable of.

Alejandro Zambra's Ways of Going Home begins with an earthquake, seen through the eyes of an unnamed nine-year-old boy who lives in an undistinguished middleclass housing development in a suburb of Santiago, Chile. When the neighbors camp out overnight, the protagonist gets his first glimpse of Claudia, an older girl who asks him to spy on her uncle Raúl. In the second section, the protagonist is the writer of the story begun in the first section. His father is a man of few words who claims to be apolitical but who quietly sympathized—to what degree, the author isn't sure—with the Pinochet regime. His reflections on the progress of the novel and on his own life—which is strikingly similar to the life of his novel's protagonist—expose the raw suture of fiction and reality. Ways of Going Home switches between author and character, past and present, reflecting with melancholy and rage on the history of a nation and on a generation born too late—the generation which, as the author-narrator puts it, learned to read and write while their parents became accomplices or victims. It is the most personal novel to date from Zambra, the most important Chilean author since Roberto Bolaño.

Worried that his wife Veronica will not return home from an art class, Julian imagines his stepdaughter Daniela's future without her mother and tells her an improvisional bedtime story.

(abridged and revised) This reference grammar offers intermediate and advanced students a reason ably comprehensive guide to the morphology and syntax of educated speech and plain prose in Spain and Latin America at the end of the twentieth century. Spanish is the main, usually the sole official language of twenty-one countries,} and it is set fair to overtake English by the year 2000 in numbers 2 of native speakers. This vast geographical and political diversity ensures that Spanish is a good deal less unified than French, German or even English, the latter more or less internationally standardized according to either American or British norms. Until the 1960s, the criteria of internationally correct Spanish were dictated by the Real Academia Espanola, but the prestige of this institution has now sunk so low that its most solemn decrees are hardly taken seriously - witness the fate of the spelling reforms listed in the Nuevas normas de prosodia y ortograjia, which were supposed to come into force in all Spanish-speaking countries in 1959 and, nearly forty years later, are still selectively ignored by publishers and literate persons everywhere. The fact is that in Spanish 'correctness' is nowadays decided, as it is in all living languages, by the consensus of native speakers; but consensus about linguistic usage is obviously difficult to achieve between more than twenty independent, widely scattered and sometimes mutually hostile countries. Peninsular Spanish is itself in flux.