On Meaningful Long-Lasting Comfort

Seth's Blog Post PictureThe first image my mind jumps to at the words “warmth” and “comfort” is a plate heaped with fried chicken, pepperoni pizza, and macaroni and cheese. It’s tempting to keep rambling about unhealthy foods I’m craving at the moment—eating them satisfies me with a warm buzz to the stomach.

The next is my laptop perched on a soft, blue blanket. Netflix waits with its lopsided smile. This is also tempting, since I can go in-depth about the shows I’m really into and hopefully win them new fans. But I’m not going to dwell on either of these, because they only provide temporary contentment. The warmth and comfort that sticks to and infuses a sense of security within me comes from the words and actions of my friends and family—the special few I’m not ashamed to care about.

“I love you” is already such a direct, soul-baring statement, but there are so many other ways to verbalize it: “Are you hungry?” “Did you put your seatbelt on?” “How was your day?” Questions like these show affection and care, and when I’m asked these I feel a little twinge of happiness and reassurance. Trust me, I’m being 100% honest.

Physical contact is another aspect that really comforts me. I love being a touchy-feely person: hand-holding, back-rubbing, hugging. In addition to the heat they literally create, they also warm me up inside with—you guessed it—comfort. I guess it’s an animal thing to crave touches.

There’s the shallow, fleeting comfort that unhealthy foods and TV shows offer and the lasting warmth that the love family and friends offer. It wasn’t really hard for me to choose.

-Seth Gozar, Junior Fiction Editor

The Tradition of Magic Realism in Latin American Literature

Aracely PictureLately I have been feeding my identity as a Latino writer by way of absorbing as much Latin American literature as possible. It has been a daunting but rewarding task. In my quest, I have read books of fiction by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, such as the renowned 100 Years of Solitude, Love in the Time of Cholera, and currently Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. Though I have mostly read fiction, I hope to delve into the realm of poetry fairly soon.

When engaging with Latin American texts the common thread of Magic Realism begins to make itself known. This particular genre is very rich and vivid but not for everyone. Due to its fantastical nature and imaginative leaps some claim that it is far too unrealistic, unreasonable, and makes little sense. However, many Latinos agree that the perspective and tradition of Magic Realism speaks directly to their people and collective voice. In Marquez’s 100 Years of Solitude, it is perfectly acceptable that ghosts should appear to give the living company, or that butterflies should follow a character faithfully and, in turn, follow his lover. For me, the beauty of the genre borders poetry, with its slow lulling narrative, and truth concerning matters of life and love. Having been to Mexico several times throughout my life, the genre matches the rhythms and rituals of living and the way people interact in that country.

The tradition of this kind of writing fascinates me.  I have tried my hand at writing in this way and will continue to experiment with this style. For me, it seems that reading and writing about the Latin American experience is not only refreshing and exciting but rings true to preserving my culture.

-Aracely Medina, Senior Poetry Editor

The Importance of Oral Tradition and Storytelling

Elan Blog Post image tatianaOral tradition is defined as “a community’s cultural and historical traditions passed down by word of mouth or example from one generation to another without written instruction.” In other words, everything we know about our parents (and their parents, and their parents, etc.) we learned from stories told through what they wore, what they drew, and what they made. My mother tells me stories about the crazy 80s fashion she went to high school with, but my father tells me about growing up in east Eritrea with dirt walls and no roof. Writing these stories down lends privilege to the lives we’d otherwise forget. Textbooks take down facts, writers take down the heart.

As we close in on Élan’s 30th consecutive year in publication, it’s important to remind ourselves why we have made it this far and why we will continue to publish in the future.

Through writing, we get to see what others left behind, and through our own writings we do the same for the readers who come after us. No one was there when the world began. I will never see my mother’s crazy 80s fashion and my father’s dirt walls. We have unanswered questions about how the world began and why we’re here. We’re all born into our own reality (our own truth) that’s continuously shaped by our experiences. With each story told, we chip away at that Truth. Élan does so much more than share the works of young writers. It keeps tradition from slipping through the cracks. It shares the stories we love hearing and forces us to listen to ones we don’t.

Storytelling helps us cope with the unknown. It finds joy in those questions. Sharing our stories makes us a part of a larger one, and while we may never put our Truth into words (perhaps we were never meant to), storytelling makes that Truth accessible. In the last three decades, Élan has held onto those values. We have been a consistent, reliable, and important source of stories for the last thirty years and will continue to be so in the future

-Tatiana Saleh, Senior Layout & Design Editor