Chuy by Gary Soto

Excerpted from an article in Magill’s Survey of American Literature, Revised Edition

First published: 1981 (collected in Where Sparrows Work Hard, 1981)

Type of work: Poem

The Work

“Chuy” is an autobiographical poem that portrays the earliest formative experiences of the speaker. The poem is divided into separate sections and moves from youthful initiation to oblivion.

The first section of “Chuy” presents the young speaker alone in the landscape announcing his presence and causing changes in his environment. For example, both birds’ nests and “pocked fruit” drop into his arms. Such fruitfulness, however, contrasts with his poverty. His lunch bag contains only air from his lungs. Chuy then observes the stars, and a voice announces that he is “blessed/ In the name/ Of a violin.” At the end, however, what transforms him is not nature; it is, instead, a sexual initiation with his first “touch of breast.” The fullness of this image reverses the emptiness of his impoverished life and the distance of the stars. He has been acted on by nature in the poem, but the touch is both a conscious act and a transforming one.

The fourth section of the poem further deals with a young man’s experience with women. This time, however, it is not an actual sexual experience but an idealistic longing that is released by his vision of a “girl/ On a can of peas.” He pictures her as the object of a knightly quest; in contrast, he portrays himself as a poor squire whose wrists are “shackled in sores.” At the end of this section, Chuy gains what solace he can by using his knife to pop a pea into his mouth. The section thus ends with an ironic reversal: The ideal is driven out, and all that remains are the actual, all-too-literal peas and not the vision.

In the next section, Chuy is seen as an explorer who wonders about the nature of electricity. He unscrews the flashlight to search for answers; he notices that “light bends.” He writes in his journal, “Light/ Is only so strong.” For a moment, he is portrayed as a hero who seems to be developing into a scientific genius. The ending, however, brings him back to a reduced world: “Chuy wondered what/ He could do after lunch.” The discovery that light bends is not sufficient to fill the emptiness of his days. It seems, instead, an isolated experience. There is no outlet to develop that curiosity about the world into the discipline of scientific inquiry.

In the last section, Chuy attempts to discover not only the nature of things but also “why/ He was there.” He now sees nature in a poetic rather than a scientific manner; he sees the moon as “a lozenge/ Sucked before sleep.” Both light and the moon are seen as natural elements that are vulnerable to change and decay. This foreshadows the end of the poem, in which Chuy buries a leaf and other signs of this existence on Earth so that extraterrestrial explorers will discover a sign of his presence among the ruins. The poem moves from the emergence of the hero to his destruction; in that destruction, Chuy attempts to leave some sign of his creative search for meaning.

Bibliography

Blasingame, James. “Interview with Gary Soto.” Journal of Adolescent and Adult Literacy 47 (November, 2003): 266-267.

Bruce-Novoa, Juan. “Patricide and Resurrection: Gary Soto.” In Chicano Poetry: A Response to Chaos. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1982.

Candelaria, Cordelia. Chicano Poetry. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1986.

Cooley, Peter. “I Can Hear You Now.” Parnassus 8, no. 1 (1979): 297-311.

De la Fuentes, Patricia. “Mutability and Stasis: Images of Time in Gary Soto’s Black Hair.” American Review 16 (1988): 188-197.

Murphy, Patricia. “Inventing Lunacy: An Interview with Gary Soto.” Hayden’s Ferry Review 18 (Spring/Summer, 1996): 29-37.

Olivares, Julián. “The Streets of Gary Soto.” Latin American Literary Review 18 (January-June, 1990): 32-49.

Soto, Gary. “The Childhood Worries: Or, Why I Became a Writer.” Iowa Review 25 (Spring/Summer, 1995): 104-115.

Williamson, Alan. “In a Middle Style.” Poetry 135 (March, 1980): 348-354.