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Armpit Tortillas and Cactus Saliva: On Linda Ronstadt and Lawrence Downes' Feels Like Home
Los Angeles Review of Books
19 October 2022
“Ronstadt’s knowledge of this history makes one of the key questions of Feels Like Home how to validate long-term attachments to and senses of place that are nevertheless those of settlers. This is an important question for US readers, whose familial connections to this country’s legacy of Indigenous dispossession are often left unknown or are blurred behind the discourse of a nation of immigrants. Ronstadt holds the two in tension: she denounces colonial, anti-Indigenous violence (Feels Like Home includes a reprint of a letter she penned to Pope Francis denouncing the Catholic Church’s canonization of violent missionary Junípero Serra), while also acknowledging the reality of her attachment to place.
Rather than appealing to roots to validate her sense of belonging in the Sonoran borderlands, Ronstadt then appeals to the senses. Feels Like Home treats taste, sound, smell, and touch on an equal plane with sight for understanding place, achieving a rare level of sensory immersion. Ronstadt’s advantage in this regard likely comes from the fact that her first vocation was not that of a writer, but a musician — one in which sound, not sight, is primary.”
Los Angeles Review of Books
19 October 2022
“Ronstadt’s knowledge of this history makes one of the key questions of Feels Like Home how to validate long-term attachments to and senses of place that are nevertheless those of settlers. This is an important question for US readers, whose familial connections to this country’s legacy of Indigenous dispossession are often left unknown or are blurred behind the discourse of a nation of immigrants. Ronstadt holds the two in tension: she denounces colonial, anti-Indigenous violence (Feels Like Home includes a reprint of a letter she penned to Pope Francis denouncing the Catholic Church’s canonization of violent missionary Junípero Serra), while also acknowledging the reality of her attachment to place.
Rather than appealing to roots to validate her sense of belonging in the Sonoran borderlands, Ronstadt then appeals to the senses. Feels Like Home treats taste, sound, smell, and touch on an equal plane with sight for understanding place, achieving a rare level of sensory immersion. Ronstadt’s advantage in this regard likely comes from the fact that her first vocation was not that of a writer, but a musician — one in which sound, not sight, is primary.”
Caroline Eaton Tracey writes about environment, migration, art, and literature in the US Southwest, Mexico, and the borderlands between the two. She speaks and works in English, Spanish, and Russian.
Caroline’s reporting appears in the New Yorker, n+1, the Atlantic, and elsewhere, as well as in Spanish in Mexico’s Nexos. In 2022-2023 she was the climate justice fellow at High Country News. In 2022 she was awarded the Waterston Prize for Desert Writing and in 2023 she received Columbia University’s Ira A. Lipman Fellowship in Journalism and Human and Civil Rights. She is also an editor-at-large at Zócalo Public Square.
Her essays appear in the Kenyon Review Online, Shenandoah, New South, and elsewhere. “A River Passes By Here” was runner-up in the 2020 Financial Times/Bodley Head essay contest and “The Ephemeral Forever” won Ruminate Magazine’s 2021 VanderMey Nonfiction Contest. Her art writing has appeared in Nexos, SFMOMA’s Open Space, and Burlington Contemporary, and her book reviews appear in the European Review of Books and the Nation.
Caroline holds a PhD in Geography from the University of California, Berkeley. She lives with her wife, Mexican architect and sculptor Mariana GJP, between Tucson, Arizona and Mexico City.
She is currently seeking representation for her manuscript SALT LAKES, which combines personal narrative and science journalism to provide a new, queer perspective on climate change in arid environments, and a book proposal about the US-Mexico borderlands.
Ask her about sugar beets.
Caroline’s reporting appears in the New Yorker, n+1, the Atlantic, and elsewhere, as well as in Spanish in Mexico’s Nexos. In 2022-2023 she was the climate justice fellow at High Country News. In 2022 she was awarded the Waterston Prize for Desert Writing and in 2023 she received Columbia University’s Ira A. Lipman Fellowship in Journalism and Human and Civil Rights. She is also an editor-at-large at Zócalo Public Square.
Her essays appear in the Kenyon Review Online, Shenandoah, New South, and elsewhere. “A River Passes By Here” was runner-up in the 2020 Financial Times/Bodley Head essay contest and “The Ephemeral Forever” won Ruminate Magazine’s 2021 VanderMey Nonfiction Contest. Her art writing has appeared in Nexos, SFMOMA’s Open Space, and Burlington Contemporary, and her book reviews appear in the European Review of Books and the Nation.
Caroline holds a PhD in Geography from the University of California, Berkeley. She lives with her wife, Mexican architect and sculptor Mariana GJP, between Tucson, Arizona and Mexico City.
She is currently seeking representation for her manuscript SALT LAKES, which combines personal narrative and science journalism to provide a new, queer perspective on climate change in arid environments, and a book proposal about the US-Mexico borderlands.
Ask her about sugar beets.
Caroline Eaton Tracey escribe sobre el medioambiente, la migración, el arte y la literatura en México, el Suroeste de Estados Unidos y la frontera entre ellos. Habla ingles, español y ruso.
Sus artículos aparecen en The New Yorker, n+1 y The Atlantic, entre otros lugares. En español escribe frecuentemente para la revista Nexos. En 2022-2023, cubría la justicia climática para la revista High Country News. En 2022 ganó el Premio Waterston por Escritura del Desierto y en 2023 recibió la beca Ira A. Lipman de periodismo de derechos humanos y civiles de Columbia University. También colabora como editora en Zócalo Public Square.
Sus ensayos aparecen en Kenyon Review Online, Shenandoah y New South, entre otros lugares. “Aquí Pasa Un Río” ganó segundo lugar en el premio de ensayo Financial Times/Bodley Head de 2020; en 2021 “Lo Efímero, Para Siempre” ganó el concurso de no-ficción VanderMey de Ruminate Magazine. Sus reseñas y ensayos sobre el arte han aparecido en Nexos, Open Space (plataforma del Museo de Arte Moderno de San Francisco) y Burlington Contemporary, y sus reseñas literarias en European Review of Books y The Nation.
Caroline es Doctora en Geografía de la Universidad de California–Berkeley. Vive con su esposa, la arquitecta y escultora mexicana Mariana GJP, entre Tucson, Arizona y la Ciudad de México.
Actualmente busca publicar su manuscrito de no-ficción sobre los lagos salados y está preparando una propuesta para un libro sobre la zona fronteriza México-Estados Unidos.
Pregúntale sobre betabeles.
Sus artículos aparecen en The New Yorker, n+1 y The Atlantic, entre otros lugares. En español escribe frecuentemente para la revista Nexos. En 2022-2023, cubría la justicia climática para la revista High Country News. En 2022 ganó el Premio Waterston por Escritura del Desierto y en 2023 recibió la beca Ira A. Lipman de periodismo de derechos humanos y civiles de Columbia University. También colabora como editora en Zócalo Public Square.
Sus ensayos aparecen en Kenyon Review Online, Shenandoah y New South, entre otros lugares. “Aquí Pasa Un Río” ganó segundo lugar en el premio de ensayo Financial Times/Bodley Head de 2020; en 2021 “Lo Efímero, Para Siempre” ganó el concurso de no-ficción VanderMey de Ruminate Magazine. Sus reseñas y ensayos sobre el arte han aparecido en Nexos, Open Space (plataforma del Museo de Arte Moderno de San Francisco) y Burlington Contemporary, y sus reseñas literarias en European Review of Books y The Nation.
Caroline es Doctora en Geografía de la Universidad de California–Berkeley. Vive con su esposa, la arquitecta y escultora mexicana Mariana GJP, entre Tucson, Arizona y la Ciudad de México.
Actualmente busca publicar su manuscrito de no-ficción sobre los lagos salados y está preparando una propuesta para un libro sobre la zona fronteriza México-Estados Unidos.
Pregúntale sobre betabeles.