Gabriel's Fire: A Memoir

Multicultural Education, Fall 2001 by Bollin, Gail

GABRIEL'S FIRE: A MEMOIR By Luis Gabriel Aguilera. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2000; ISBN. 0-226-01067-8; 291 pages; $22.00 (hardcover). -Reviewed by Gail Bollin

Seldom has the link between language and culture been illustrated so clearly as it is in this memoir of a young Mexican boy growing up on the South Side of Chicago. Aguilera has chosen to relate his story almost entirely through the use of dialogue. The book covers Aguilera's teen years from 1985 through 1991 and the writing is able to reflect this developmental perspective in a unique fashion.

The language of the 13-year-old boy is full of the self-conscious bravado of a male adolescent. There is an innocence yet in the use of terms such as "goofy ass" and "dork" among Aguilera and his two brothers as they walk to church to serve Mass. Yet the author also evokes the intrusion of a harsher world in the overheard dialogues of older neighbors and shouted epithets such as "you fucking dirty ass spic."

As the book moves through the years Aguilera and his contemporaries gradually adopt the harsher language of the neighborhood and the pages are rife with "motherfucker" and "shit" as it records interchanges between Aguilera and his friends. Simultaneously the book is recording the author's increasingly sophisticated use of language in grammatical English in interchanges with teachers and the parish priest.

A reader might initially resent Aguilera's use of colloquial Spanish (without translation) and Spanglish in the dialogues between Aguilera and his family that leave those of who do not understand Spanish wondering what was actually being said. However, this is not only an accurate reflection of Aguilera's experience, but it also forces the reader to experience some of the confusion of living in a world where one does not speak the dominant language. It is also a poignant evocation of the bridge that immigrant children trod daily between the English-speaking world of school and neighborhood and the non-English-- speaking world of home.

Aguilera's use of dialogue as a primary medium also brilliantly illustrates how youth today use language to define their own culture. It was obvious that Aguilera's peers took great care naming their "party crews" as well as in the allocation of nicknames to members. There are times in the book that the reader has sympathy for students who complain about not understanding Elizabethan English as she or he struggles to figure out the meaning in context of words whose meanings have been deliberately altered by their speakers.

Gabriel's Fire also paints a vivid picture of the lives of Mexican immigrant families and male adolescents in the ghetto. Aguilera captures the anguish of a family whose traditional cultural roles are undermined. Early in the book the family functions well as a safe haven for the Aguilera boys. The father takes pride in his job as a skilled upholsterer and is happy in his role as provider and head of household. He is stern but affectionate. The mother appears fulfilled in her role as mother and homemaker, carefully managing the resources and nurturing her sons who are gradually challenging her protective gestures. Aguilera only hints at how much the trauma of his father's loss of work and his ensuing downward spiral into bitterness and drinking, combined with the loss of financial security, affects the family.

One of the gifts of this book is that it documents an inner-city phenomenon from the viewpoint of an insider. According to Aguilera's account, during the 1980s young Hispanics in the ghettos of Chicago created "party crews" to meet several needs: a space for positive identification with others from similar ethnic backgrounds; a venue for the teens to gather together to hear their own music and dance; the protection of "brothers" when hostilities broke out among groups; and, a financial structure that would support teen social life in a financially strapped milieu.

Once again, mainly through the convention of dialogue, Aguilera is able to immerse his readers in the often joyful, sometimes scary, world of typical teen risk-taking behaviors. Readers share the sadness of Aguilera as he recounts the transition of the "party crews" to the more violent "gangs" in increasingly racially tense times.

If there are any heroes in this book, they are the handful of remarkable teachers who positively influence the lives of their students. It is touchingly obvious that it is the teachers' unwavering beliefs in Aguilera's potential that provided him with the motivation to stay in school. That all of these teachers were in Catholic schools which were eventually closed by the Church is not meant to escape the notice of the reader.

Religion plays a subtle role throughout this memoir. It appears first in a cultural context with expectations for participation but later appears to be a source of real internal strength for Aguilera. One of the most well-developed characters in the memoir is the enigmatic parish priest who provides a job, educational opportunities, motivation, and friendship for Aguilera, yet turns on him near the end of the book with vicious racial slurs.