We All Need To Be Superheroes in Our Time: An Interview with Stephen D. Gutierrez Regarding His Novella, Captain Chicano Draws a Line in the American Sand
By Daniel A. Olivas
I have been a fan of Stephen D. Gutierrez since 1998 when I decided to become a writer at the ripe old age of 39. I only had a degree in English literature and a law degree, not an MFA, but I had Chicano stories to tell, so my DIY MFA syllabus quickly filled with books by Sandra Cisneros, Luis J. Rodriguez, Yxta Maya Murray, and Helena María Miramontes, to name a few literary luminaries. And in researching authors to read I discovered Gutierrez’s debut story collection, Elements (FC2, 1997). In that book, I found my spiritual brother.
We were both Chicanos who grew up in Los Angeles County born around the same time. I’ve enjoyed—and learned from—his books that followed including Live from Fresno y Los (Bear Star Press, 2009), which won an American Book Award. In my review of that collection for the El Paso Times, I observed that his stories “have a particular emotional resonance for me because they conjure up images and personalities from my old neighborhood near downtown Los Angeles.”
Over the course of his writing career, Gutierrez has produced three collections of short stories and essays, and published in magazines and anthologies including two Notable Essay citations in Best American Essays. His work has appeared in many publications including The North American Review, Cimarron Review, and Catamaran Literary Reader. Originally from the City of Commerce in southeast Los Angeles County, Gutierrez has lived in the Bay Area for the past thirty years. He is Professor Emeritus at California State University, East Bay.
And now we have another crazy literary ride in Gutierrez’s new novella, Captain Chicano Draws a Line in the American Sand (University of Tampa Press, 2024). Where else will you find such a raucous narrative that includes appearances from a Chicano superhero, the author himself, and the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe that asks the question: Can a short story save America? This is gonzo Chicano fiction at its exuberant best.
Gutierrez kindly made some time to chat about his new book, the art of fiction writing, and the state of our country.
DANIEL A. OLIVAS: I love the novella! Could you talk about the crafting of this book and why you decided to write in this underappreciated form?
STEPHEN D. GUTIERREZ: It just grew on me. I never intended to write a novella. I tried to write a short story around the theme of extremists in America, white supremacist kooks, but it became unmanageable. I kept revising it and liking things I added and couldn't see getting rid of them, new elements of the central theme, and next thing I knew I had something that definitely wasn't a short story, though my stories tend to be longer than shorter these days. It exceeded even that, my usually baggy (and hard to place) length. It was a story about writing a story in the form of a novella, while tackling the central question of violent extremism hidden in our midst. I never copped to the length until late in the game, never mentioned the obvious discrepancy between what I was avowedly doing, writing a short story in full view of the reader, and what I was actually doing, trying to keep an out-of-control novella under control. I hope that makes some kind of sense. I'm not the kind of writer to sit down to write a novella or in any particular form. But if what I'm trying to do breathes, I'm game for whatever it wants to be. I'm sitting down to write a story, basically. The story will tell me whether it wants to be flash fiction or a novella or a regular length story, etc., or to be abandoned because it's just not working, even though there might be some good stuff in it.
We were both Chicanos who grew up in Los Angeles County born around the same time. I’ve enjoyed—and learned from—his books that followed including Live from Fresno y Los (Bear Star Press, 2009), which won an American Book Award. In my review of that collection for the El Paso Times, I observed that his stories “have a particular emotional resonance for me because they conjure up images and personalities from my old neighborhood near downtown Los Angeles.”
Over the course of his writing career, Gutierrez has produced three collections of short stories and essays, and published in magazines and anthologies including two Notable Essay citations in Best American Essays. His work has appeared in many publications including The North American Review, Cimarron Review, and Catamaran Literary Reader. Originally from the City of Commerce in southeast Los Angeles County, Gutierrez has lived in the Bay Area for the past thirty years. He is Professor Emeritus at California State University, East Bay.
And now we have another crazy literary ride in Gutierrez’s new novella, Captain Chicano Draws a Line in the American Sand (University of Tampa Press, 2024). Where else will you find such a raucous narrative that includes appearances from a Chicano superhero, the author himself, and the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe that asks the question: Can a short story save America? This is gonzo Chicano fiction at its exuberant best.
Gutierrez kindly made some time to chat about his new book, the art of fiction writing, and the state of our country.
DANIEL A. OLIVAS: I love the novella! Could you talk about the crafting of this book and why you decided to write in this underappreciated form?
STEPHEN D. GUTIERREZ: It just grew on me. I never intended to write a novella. I tried to write a short story around the theme of extremists in America, white supremacist kooks, but it became unmanageable. I kept revising it and liking things I added and couldn't see getting rid of them, new elements of the central theme, and next thing I knew I had something that definitely wasn't a short story, though my stories tend to be longer than shorter these days. It exceeded even that, my usually baggy (and hard to place) length. It was a story about writing a story in the form of a novella, while tackling the central question of violent extremism hidden in our midst. I never copped to the length until late in the game, never mentioned the obvious discrepancy between what I was avowedly doing, writing a short story in full view of the reader, and what I was actually doing, trying to keep an out-of-control novella under control. I hope that makes some kind of sense. I'm not the kind of writer to sit down to write a novella or in any particular form. But if what I'm trying to do breathes, I'm game for whatever it wants to be. I'm sitting down to write a story, basically. The story will tell me whether it wants to be flash fiction or a novella or a regular length story, etc., or to be abandoned because it's just not working, even though there might be some good stuff in it.
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OLIVAS: Your book is a wild ride, one that I’d call the lovechild of Boethius’s The Consolation of Philosophy and Oscar Zeta Acosta’s Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo. What inspired you to go on this particular literary excursion?
GUTIERREZ: As the reader will discover, the narrator is inspired to write the story because a friend is so taken by a passage in a letter that she encourages him to write a story around it. The passage concerns violent upheaval in the country, potentially. That set me (the narrator) off because the friend is smart and talented and inspiration from those quarters, the smart and talented, often encourages me to write something specifically. Anyway, it planted the seed in my mind and I started watering it immediately. To drop the metaphor, I started working. And pretty much what I described in my previous answer unfolded. Confusion! Chaos! But I felt it was substantive and worthy of continuing. I was on a wild ride, indeed! I love Acosta. He's in my literary DNA. So I'm happy to be considered his progeny. One is always seeking one's parentage when hints are given that one is a bastard. A magazine editor a while back said I was a mix/lovechild/blend etc. of Tom Waits and some other sublime figure like Boethius, I can't remember, I should have written it down. I guess I have my Acosta/Waits side and a reflective side. Kind of a working-class sensibility steeped in a lot of books which have never been at odds with my background. As you know, Acosta, the mad lawyer, liked to go on wild rides with Hunter Thompson, so I guess it's no surprise that I took one myself. OLIVAS: Tell me more about this character, Captain Chicano. Are we in such bad shape in this country that we need a superhero? |
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GUTIERREZ: We need something that we don't have because what we have isn't working. The shape we're in depends on the shape each of us is in, I suppose, the level of security and comfort in our lives. Of course that could belie a lot of pain and uncertainty we're holding inside. And those people sleeping in tents in our cities or sleeping on the sidewalk, I think they'd say the country is in bad shape. So I'd say overall we're not in great shape. How's that for equivocating? Are we on the verge of collapse like the pundits say? Dunno. But our old answers don't seem to be getting us anywhere. I guess a new way of thinking is necessary and who is better equipped to show us the way than a superhero, preferably a shabby Chicano one, out of date, old school but with a good heart and good intentions and a fair mind and a noble disposition overall. He believes in the country and will sacrifice for it!
We all need to be superheroes in our time! I think the assumption that things will never get really bad here is naive and dangerous, and because people on either side of the political/cultural divide think the other side is stupid, we're closer to serious dysfunction, to put it mildly, than many people imagine. Money is not going to save you when things start to fall apart. How can we be superheroes? Dunno. Ask yourself. I try to write honestly and tend to create very flawed characters who are basically good. I think that is Captain Chicano's greatest virtue. He has much to gripe about but is not hateful. That's his superpower. Yeah, we need him.
OLIVAS: How did Edgar Allan Poe sneak into your narrative?
GUTIERREZ: Edgar Allan Poe has snuck into everybody's narrative! He is one of the preeminent creators of the genre, the modern short story. So if that's your bag, don't be surprised to see Poe's severed head down there when you open it up for annual inspection. I just like the dude, Mr. Poe. Love him in fact. And as I am fairly obsessed with a stricter definition of the short story than many people subscribe to, it was natural that he would show up in a narrative about constructing a short story. Very natural. It could be no other way. He showed up in my study in a frock coat, and demanded entrance into my tale. Who am I to deny Edgar Allan Poe anything? The man has chops.
OLIVAS: Did you discover anything about the state of our country in writing this book?
GUTIERREZ: I think when Captain Chicano, under the guise of the narrator, who happens to have my same name and who is Captain Chicano and also not Captain Chicano at different times in the novella—when this captain appeals to our best selves as Americans, our sanely patriotic ones, to preserve the republic against any real threat to its integrity, he is not speaking into the void. He can count on support, not only support, but passion and intelligence to fight for what is best here and worth preserving. And that is much. Like the right to conduct this interview and criticize the government if we (I) choose. Still. Like the right to be crazy aesthetically. Still. Like the right to fly a LGBTQ+ flag. Still. I like to think I discovered hope in the captain's calls and final appeal to America to stand strong for all that is valuable in human life.
He has put the country on alert. He fears the rise of ugly, organized, armed, white supremacist, Neo-Nazi groups that the FBI has been warning are on the rise. The question is then, maybe: "Is Captain Chicano paranoid?" Dunno. Best to trust his fears are not completely unfounded. Peace.
We all need to be superheroes in our time! I think the assumption that things will never get really bad here is naive and dangerous, and because people on either side of the political/cultural divide think the other side is stupid, we're closer to serious dysfunction, to put it mildly, than many people imagine. Money is not going to save you when things start to fall apart. How can we be superheroes? Dunno. Ask yourself. I try to write honestly and tend to create very flawed characters who are basically good. I think that is Captain Chicano's greatest virtue. He has much to gripe about but is not hateful. That's his superpower. Yeah, we need him.
OLIVAS: How did Edgar Allan Poe sneak into your narrative?
GUTIERREZ: Edgar Allan Poe has snuck into everybody's narrative! He is one of the preeminent creators of the genre, the modern short story. So if that's your bag, don't be surprised to see Poe's severed head down there when you open it up for annual inspection. I just like the dude, Mr. Poe. Love him in fact. And as I am fairly obsessed with a stricter definition of the short story than many people subscribe to, it was natural that he would show up in a narrative about constructing a short story. Very natural. It could be no other way. He showed up in my study in a frock coat, and demanded entrance into my tale. Who am I to deny Edgar Allan Poe anything? The man has chops.
OLIVAS: Did you discover anything about the state of our country in writing this book?
GUTIERREZ: I think when Captain Chicano, under the guise of the narrator, who happens to have my same name and who is Captain Chicano and also not Captain Chicano at different times in the novella—when this captain appeals to our best selves as Americans, our sanely patriotic ones, to preserve the republic against any real threat to its integrity, he is not speaking into the void. He can count on support, not only support, but passion and intelligence to fight for what is best here and worth preserving. And that is much. Like the right to conduct this interview and criticize the government if we (I) choose. Still. Like the right to be crazy aesthetically. Still. Like the right to fly a LGBTQ+ flag. Still. I like to think I discovered hope in the captain's calls and final appeal to America to stand strong for all that is valuable in human life.
He has put the country on alert. He fears the rise of ugly, organized, armed, white supremacist, Neo-Nazi groups that the FBI has been warning are on the rise. The question is then, maybe: "Is Captain Chicano paranoid?" Dunno. Best to trust his fears are not completely unfounded. Peace.
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