Victor Villaseñor

There is no good without evil, no light without dark, and no love without hatred and fear, the sages say, and Villaseñor’s family memoir is replete with all of these in the extreme. Generations of his family lived in the Mexico of revolution, from Hidalgo’s call for independence in 1820 until the last bloody overthrow of a sitting president in 1920. His mixed-race ancestors attempted to make a living off the land, but never succeeded in being remote enough to escape the ravages of show more rag-tag soldiers from both sides of the conflict.

Villaseñor’s grandmother, Doña Marguerita, emerges as the star of his tale—a tiny, toothless, brittle little Indian woman. Each day, in the early morning while she sits in her outhouse with her cup of coffee and cigarette, she exchanges gossip with the Virgin Mary. Sometimes occasions arise that call for a special visit to the church, where the Holy Mother steps down from her pedestal and joins Doña Marguerita for a heart-to-heart.

Villaseñor’s father, Salvadore, was Doña Marguerita’s last born, miraculously past her expected age of fertility. She expects Salvadore to be better than her other sons and frequently delivers long rants, imparting her wisdom or punishing his shortcomings. Her favorite topics are love, forgiveness, bigotry, and racism.

Every family in America should have such a grandmother. “I tell you, this hate has got to stop right now! Here! Inside your soul!” she berates him. “And you’ve got to grab hold of your tanates and grow bigger than your personal disappointments, or the devil has won before you even begin!”

From twenty years of recorded interviews with members of both his father’s and mother’s families, Villaseñor weaves a magnificently adventurous story of how his family survived a harrowing journey north into the U.S. to escape the neverending violence of war. It is a story of two families, but in the process of the telling, a portrait of a people emerges—the Mexican immigrants who forged a new culture as Mexican Americans. For this reason alone, Villaseñor’s colorful family memoir is worth the read. show less

Finished it and then cried all through the Author’s Notes! A testament to the strength and perseverance of the author’s family, as they fled the Mexican Revolution and struggled to make their way in the US against so many odds (extreme poverty, labor exploitation, racism, etc.), yet truly lived their lives with passion, joy, and faith....which carried them through generations.

There are some aspects of nostalgia and longing that are universal to most immigrants that touched me as an show more immigrant myself...the longing for a home or past that is no more and yet still feeling like a fish out of water in your new home!

There were some sections on the last 3rd of the book that dragged a bit too much for me, but other than that, a rewarding read. show less

A story of nonviolence – amazingly. This is not a meek nonviolence, but a full-throated, bloody one. It’s about faith, too, and family and the consequences of losing faith and arching struggle to keep it. This is how we die: by loving.
To read these 500 pages is to immerse oneself in a different culture. I love the descriptions of Juan’s uneasiness when he dares another culture and his courage to dare it nonetheless. Venture into the particular (and true) story of a Mexican family show more crossing the border and you will feel your own uneasiness rise! Take courage! Love is to be gained. show less

Thirteen Senses is Victor Villaseñor’s second installment in his family history. The first, Rain of Gold, ended with his parents’ 1929 wedding; the second covers the wedding and all that proceeds. This volume continues the unfolding of family wisdom, as told by its women—most particularly, Doña Marguerita, Villaseñor’s paternal grandmother.

Midst exploding stills and other dangers of life as a 1920s bootlegger, Villaseñor’s father, Salvadore, repeats the teachings of his Indian show more mother. In this continuation of his life story, Villaseñor reveals that Doña Marguerita was a curandera, a native healer. It seems an odd thing to have omitted from his first book, in which Doña Marguerita also plays a major role. This and a few other seeming inconsistencies cause me to suspect that his grandmother may not be the source of all the wisdom that he seeks to impart. And in the end, it doesn’t make any difference. He offers a worthwhile teaching, while spinning a rip-snorting yarn of living on the edge of the law during the era when California’s barrios were first being formed and a new culture was being created from the melding of the ways of Old Mexico and gringo America.

Villaseñor reveals the secret of why many men lie—because they can’t have things the way they need them to be if they tell the truth. This is the conundrum of Salvadore when faced with the choice of telling his fiancée the truth about the source of his wealth (as his mother advises) or denying that he is a bootlegger, a lie to ensure that Lupe will not call off the wedding. He chooses the lie. The truth can wait, he reasons, until the marriage is consummated and she dares not to leave him. Lupe is consoled with her mother’s advice: “No man can ever break a woman’s heart, if she has entrusted her heart—not to the man—but to her home.” This ancient rule of motherhood is a revelation to a modern woman who grew up in a world of romantic love and divorces fueled by disappointment. “So always know, mi hijita,” Lupe’s mother tells her, “that you are una lluvia de oro, a rain of gold, sent by God to do your work for the survival of all humankind. We are the power, we women are el eje, the center, the hub de nuestras familias, and in this knowledge, then our hearts are INDESTRUCTIBLE!”

Villaseñor is a great storyteller and a sharp witness to human foibles. Thirteen Senses is a family history, an introduction to Mexican American culture, and a sojourn into the world of a mystic. show less