Tag: Independent Publishers Mexico

Festival Sol Quieto: A Celebration of Music, Poetry, and Community

The Monument to the Bicentennial of National Independence in Mexico is better known as the “Estela de Luz” because, at night, it lights up and becomes part of the city’s landscape, thanks to its impressive height of 104 meters and 6 meters wide. Located on Paseo de la Reforma, it’s colloquially known as the “suavicrema” due to its pale yellow color and shape, reminiscent of Suavicrema cookies. At its base is the Digital Culture Center (CCD). The CCD has been a community space inviting reflection and hosting independent cultural projects for over thirteen years.

The CCD offers a diverse cultural program that includes immersive concerts, art and audiovisual exhibitions, workshops for all ages, film screenings, and recreational activities like the Festival Sol Quieto, which is held on Saturday, July 20th. This event aimed to bridge music, poetry, and video, featuring an independent book fair, video poetry screenings, an open mic for sharing poetry, and performances by artists Hospital de México, Sebastián Rojas, and Grito Exclamación.

The turnout was surprising, sometimes making the expansive CCD space feel too small for the enthusiastic crowd. Unlike typical literature and book events where attendees range from teenagers to seniors, this festival primarily attracted young adults in their 20s and 30s, often accompanied by friends. This demographic set the tone for the open mic, which featured voices of protest, social critique, and self-reflection from a young perspective. Not only did the young attendees fill the venue, but they also brought the event to life.

Elefanta, Miau Ediciones, U-Tópicas, Palíndroma, and Saca La Lengua Fanzine were among the editorial offerings. The event predominantly featured poetry, but there were also general literature titles and various fanzines. Highlights included books from Eloisa Cartonera, echoing the style of La Cartonera press, the award-winning poetry collection Retrato de un gusano blanco by Sayuri Sánchez, and the reflective stories of life’s fragility in Las cicadas by Yael Weiss.

The event’s pinnacle was the open mic, where unpublished writers could share their work. The anonymity allowed the reading of bold pieces like “These are the love stories we tell as children of the narco-state,” protesting societal violence without fear of retribution. Listening to these young poets prompts reflection on shared experiences living in this city at this historical moment, makes us curious about their influences, and underscores the importance of maintaining spaces for sharing music and poetry.

Inkitt: BbyKevs

Wattpad: @SugoiKevs

TikTok: @bbykevs

Rediscovering Zapata: legends and truths for children

When we hear the history of our country—whatever it may be—we often think of it as something that happened to other people, in another life, something distant not just in time but in space. At times, it seems like it never happened at all. It’s normal to find it difficult to imagine how the world was before we knew it as it is today; even connecting our own present with our own past can be challenging, as much—if not everything—has changed since childhood. Hence the importance—and the human need—to leave a mark of our existence behind, to tell stories, to seek to endure. It’s a natural inclination. In many towns in Mexico, the custom of passing down history, customs, and traditions through oral storytelling persists.

In a poorly told story, we can all be “the villain,” just as when we tell our version, we’ll always be “the hero.” However, regardless of being “good” or “bad”—which is highly subjective—the truth is that history, as written in books, is portrayed from the perspective of the victors. Understanding other perspectives of an event becomes challenging when we can only ask the deceased. Asking Emiliano Zapata about the revolution would be impossible (though wonderful to hear), which is why today he has become nothing less than a symbol. The ideological legacy he left behind is so powerful that after more than 110 years, his slogan “Land and Liberty” continues to be the rallying cry for those who still rebel against a system that oppresses them.

For those who have had an interest in delving deeper into history, in digging beyond what public school books offer, they have discovered that the southern leader was more than just a man interested in power. It’s said that when he sat in the presidential chair—without seeking any kind of title—he said to Francisco Villa, seated beside him, “And this is what they fight over?” But that could well be just an urban legend. What this title offers is something much more genuine and real: it’s the story of someone who was there, a man who in his youth was a Zapatista.

“And Zapata Keeps Riding” is a short story aimed especially at children, written by Victor Hugo Sánchez Reséndiz and published by La Cartonera. The narrative is simple yet captivating from the first page due to its authenticity, themes, and passion. Sánchez Reséndiz recounts the story of his grandfather, who used to tell children who approached him how it was to fight alongside Zapata, the reasons they did it, what life was like before, and how it was after the Mexican Revolution. He also tells them about the true fate of the leader and how he didn’t die as history says but went to Arabia, because he’s coming back to fight for freedom. This is what brings beauty to the story: the intimate aspects, the moments exaggerated for the sake of the narrative, the pride with which it’s told.

Although increasingly distant, the past is something that shapes our existence. It’s necessary to be able to reconcile with the past we have as a nation, to honor our origins, and to make peace with the dark episodes that have fallen—as they do for everyone—in our country. When we can do that, we can leave the past where it belongs and look towards tomorrow. And it’s important to clarify that leaving the past behind is not about forgetting it; on the contrary, it’s about acknowledging it. In recognizing it lies the rescue of stories like this one, valuable because they are part of the everyday; because the world has not been built only by the names that appear in books but by all the people who accompanied them, like Sánchez Reséndiz‘s grandfather. This title is filled with nostalgia, tender descriptions of Morelos and its people, but especially with tradition.

Inkitt: BbyKevs

Wattpad: @SugoiKevs

TikTok: @bbykevs

Kermés “Editing the Everyday”

On the rooftop of the UNAM Museum, the fourth edition of the kermesse “Editing the Everyday” took place today, Saturday, April 13th. Although it may sound unusual, it is precisely that: a kermesse. At the entrance of the museum, a stand was set up where people could get prints stamped on their skin like tattoos, serving as an invitation to go up to the kermesse, which was held on the rooftop. Upon entering the rooftop, attendees were greeted with hibiscus water and basket tacos. The event dynamics were explained, and “churru-pesos” bills were distributed, which could be exchanged for activities at the stands or items for sale, essentially serving as a welcome. The organizers of this event are 10 self-managed editorial collectives seeking to showcase their work as fanzine creators, while also creating a space to welcome both those familiar and unfamiliar with their work.

In Mexico, there are times of the year when, to commemorate special dates such as Independence Day and Mother’s Day, schools organize events called “kermesses.” These events are about socializing with classmates through games, activities, and sharing food. They were even more enjoyable when students were allowed to wear everyday clothes instead of uniforms, adding an extra appeal. Thus, the kermesse was the most “punk” moment of the year. For these fanzine creators, who know that the origin of the fanzine is rooted in punk culture, they have revived these two concepts to create “Editing the Everyday.”

The fact that it is a kermesse is not a coincidence; it is an idea developed by La Zinería and Editorial Mitote. They invite colleagues from the field whom they have met along their journey in editing and publishing. This journey has mainly been through bazaars and certain cultural events where, during social interactions, they noted that there are no spaces exclusively for them and their work as fanzine editors and independent publishers. So, not finding a place in book fairs or venues that open their doors to them, these collectives organize themselves and seek their own places for meetings and exhibitions.

The artistic offerings ranged from fanzines to prints, illustrations, posters, newspaper figures, paintings, and items covered in epoxy resin. Additionally, there were talks, workshops, and readings in a room below where the kermesse took place. I came across titles such as “Cómo romper el corazón de un elefante” by Brian O’Brien, which narrates how elephants are kidnapped and separated from their herd to be trained and sold to zoos or circuses. Larissa Alcántara presented “¿A qué velocidad viaja el pasado que siempre nos alcanza?” where she discusses drug use during adolescence, packaging the fanzine in a plastic bag along with colorful stickers, small candies, and bead bracelets that resemble pills, thus creating an analogy to how drugs are packaged and presented. Baruck Racine created a photographic fanzine that tells the story of his life in the USA during his childhood, his life in Mexico, and how the border separating the two countries is not just physical. Additionally, the UNAM Fanzinoteca lent material for exhibition, which is part of their catalog that can be consulted at any time in their archival center.

The main idea of these collectives, besides showcasing their work, is to create spaces and build communities. They find it essential to break the stigmatization of what art should be and for whom it is intended. This particular vision arises because the creators have found that in their communities of origin, which they refer to as “the periphery”—Xochimilco, Ecatepec, Cuautla, Tláhuac, Morelos, Tlalnepantla—there is little openness to the graphic and artistic expression they produce. Few spaces have taken the risk in previous editions of this kermesse to open their doors and even fewer to finance them. Therefore, by joining efforts among collectives, they prepared an open invitation to the general public, creating an event where children are also welcome, offering young ones the opportunity to engage with this world and show them that there are people who make a living by “drawing pictures.”

@yolitzin_amantolli

@larissadeltiempo

@___existo___

Inkitt: BbyKevs
Wattpad: @SugoiKevs
TikTok: @bbykevs

“Antología” – Lambert Schlechter

“The Cartonera, an independent, artistic, and artisanal publisher, publishes books with covers made from cardboard collected from the streets of Cuernavaca, Morelos in Mexico. Each of our copies is a unique experience because, in addition to good literature, each of the covers is painted by an artist in our collective workshops,” is the headline on La Cartonera’s website. This publisher is a concept in itself: it is independent, receives no support from any institution, works in an artisanal and non-profit manner. It is, in short, an artistic endeavor that emerges against the current in a context where books seem to be increasingly scarce precious gems, but no less valuable for it.

This publisher also has a deep interest in bringing unconventional titles, such as “Contagio Cartonero: Creation in the Time of Pandemic.” In this book, an organizing committee from Mexico, Colombia, Peru, and Venezuela gathered photographs, illustrations, and texts from over 40 participants ranging from preschoolers to adults. From Argentina, Colombia, Bogotá, Mexico, and Venezuela, artistic proposals such as illustrations, drawings, poems, and stories were gathered to respond to the growing need for unity and survival in the face of the pandemic and thus combat the uncertainty and fear of the moment.

Among these titles, one captivated me for its colors and format. Still, above all, I for its content because upon browsing it, I found that La Cartonera was the first publisher to translate this Luxembourgish author into Spanish in Mexico. Additionally, this edition is bilingual Spanish-French, confronting the texts head-on, allowing for more authenticity and depth by knowing the translated original words. It is a print run of only 150 copies, presenting an anthology of poems and letters by Lambert Schlechter, who is a philosopher and writer of poetry, novels, and essays who has been dedicated to his work as a writer since the early 1980s, and who was also named a Knight of Arts and Letters in 2001.

Although these poems and letters are extracted from other titles by the author, the selection made by the publisher is so good that all the poems seem intertwined and offer a consistent reading. However, I find another detail in these poems: the writer writes about the fact of being a writer. Not many do that; sometimes, the authors try to distance themselves from their works as if they were only concerned about what people or critics will say about their work. I appreciate it when authors are honest with themselves and their writing; it feels authentic. So, in a nutshell, I find Lambert Schlechter, as a poet, tremendously authentic and honest. The letters interspersed with the poems only reinforce this, adding, in any case, more complexity and richness to the poetry.

The themes that Schlechter touches on in his literary works are diverse, which makes a lot of sense when we consider that it has been over 35 years of career; however, universal topics can be found, such as the perception of the passage of time, desire, the complexity of life and death, nature, eroticism, and everyday life. Personally, I find it fascinating when poets talk about what they know and what surrounds them; it allows us not only to understand more about their lives but also to know their perspective on it, to distinguish their opinions, perceptions, conflicts… And realize that even though we may come from different backgrounds, social strata, generations, and genders, intrinsic things unite us as human beings.

Inkitt: BbyKevs
Wattpad: @SugoiKevs
TikTok: @bbykevs