As My New American Life (HarperCollins, 306 pages) opens, twenty-six-year-old Lula stares out the window of the suburban New Jersey home where she works as a nanny, waiting without much hope for something, anything, to happen. If life was simple and humans were well-engineered for happiness, Lula might well be content. Yet she’s miserable. It’s not only because Lula is far from her home in Albania and without friends or anybody who shares her history that’s she’s unhappy. In Francine Prose’s new novel, it’s because Lula has begun to experience a uniquely American mode of discontent.
Lula has left her shattered family and come here on a tourist visa in the ages-old hope of building a better life in America. With her best friend, Dunia, by her side, Lula forges ahead in Manhattan, waiting and hoping for something to work out. Eventually Lula feels they must take some initiative to secure their immigration status, but Dunia suggests that if they do nothing, something good will happen. Unconvinced by this logic, independent Lula takes the initiative to answer a personal ad on Craigslist and lands a gig working for Mister Stanley, a well-intentioned middle-aged man who needs someone to look after his son, Zeke, now that his wife has suffered a nervous breakdown and left them to fend for themselves.
On a hot, bright July day in 2007, author Francisco Goldman waded into the Pacific surf off Mazunte, Mexico. His wife, Aura Estrada, watched him bodysurf, catching a wave and riding it twenty yards back toward the shore, and decided she’d like to do the same. As the next wave approached, she called out, “This one’s mine!” That powerful wave left Aura unconscious, floating in the shallow waters near the beach, and although she regained consciousness and fought for her life in the hours that followed, she did not survive.
Say Her Name (Grove; 350 pages) is Goldman’s wrenching but also warm and often funny novel about a middle-aged professor and writer named Francisco Goldman, who finds a passionate and enduring love with Aura Estrada, a talented young academic and promising fiction writer from Mexico. She dies just two years after they marry, catching her first wave bodysurfing off the coast of Mazunte, Mexico.
The book begins with the stark and true information of Aura’s accident. Part of the immense impact of Goldman’s work is how he renders this heavy foreknowledge: It becomes the spark that ignites the relentless engine of the narrative. As Aura comes alive on the page, the knowledge of her death becomes agonizing; our growing attachment to her creates tension and significance to that singular event around which the book restlessly orbits. Yet Say Her Name blossoms with the story of Aura’s life opening up — a young writer breaking out on her own, struggling to develop and define her work and to meet her own high expectations.
Naomi Kremer (photo by Dennis Letbetter)
Naomie Kremer has been described as “a remarkable and innovative colorist, with a subtle mastery of intimating interior meaning.” Her current exhibition, “Multiverse Part I,” at Modernism Gallery in San Francisco through April 23, showcases 12 of her densely layered oil-on-linen paintings, all characterized by Kremer’s sensuous use of color, her energetic and meticulous brushwork, and a complex, detailed sense of structure. Yet her work in black and white is integral to her craft, and equally compelling. ZYZZYVA sat down with the Bay Area artist in her bright and inviting studio in Oakland on a recent stormy day. As the rain poured down outside, Kremer discussed the inspiration behind her current show at Modernism, the important role that drawing has played in the development of her craft as a painter, and her innovative collaboration with the Margaret Jenkins Dance Company.