Thanks to NetGalley & Knopf, Pantheon, and Anchor for the ARC!

Martín Espada’s "Jailbreak of Sparrows" is a work that exists primarily as texture rather than narrative, depicting images with the unpredictable lucidity of memory—some mundanities are preserved with crystalline affection while important details are lost.

While reading, a single word repeatedly came to mind—“professional.” These poems are written with such polish that they lose dimension, and their universal verbosity makes them feel overly practiced yet under-edited. In my personal poetics, I think it should always by clear why a poem is a poem, and that just isn’t the case here, as the form’s fragmentation never amounts to a whole—a collage.

Personally, I think "Jailbreak of Sparrows" is at its best when it is at its most overtly political, such as in “The Critic’s Tongue Did Not Sparkle with the Diamond Stickpin of Wit” which interrogates conservatism that masquerades as intellectualism, or “He Could Sing, But He Couldn’t Fly,” which wrestles with immigration and documentation. Notably, these are much tighter poems than the ones surrounding them, and I wish the collection contained more of their ilk.

All in all, this was a bit of a disappointment, but I would encourage would-be readers to opt for the audiobook. The slack in Espada’s voice feels almost necessary to fully appreciate the meandering shuffle of these pieces, and the openness of his timbre gives each word a little more room.

I loved the poems in the Jailbreak of Sparrows collection. The poems were easy to understand yet had deep and insightful themes.

I’m a person who believes that poetry should be incorporated into other subjects within our education system. This book reminds me of that position. While it could be considered a memoir in poetry, it is also a form of historical testifying about the struggles of those who came before us, what they believed in and how that belief directed their activities. This is a book of portraits that would make a great addition to a class in American History, showing how it is connected to other histories across time and providing a glimpse into how it impacts everyday lives of the ordinary people making it. There are ample notes in the back of the book about historical figures and events referred to in the poetry so that there’s little need to put the book down.

Two topics I wouldn’t necessarily think to put together meld beautifully in this book: social justice and baseball. Espada’s passion for both results in an interesting juxtaposition of two grand passions that are not mutually exclusive for him.

Throughout Espada’s poetry, we are aware of his connection to Puerto Rico and its struggles, but also more broadly to the Caribbean, Latino/a, Chicano/a, and Hispanic culture. These things all bleed together and are part of the American experience as well, less fringe or “other” than many people want to believe.

Because the subject of social justice struggles can be intense, I was thankful for the third section which allows Espada to engage in quirky love poems. They’re the break we need before the fourth section of the book that plunges us back into the events of recent years. We have a sense, after having read the earlier memoir sections and the love poems, of what sustains him through continued injustices that can’t be ignored.

The poetry in this book leans toward long lines and storytelling, which results in longer poems. However, since storytelling carries one along, it was a faster read rather than a longer one. The most commonly and effectively used poetic language was the repetition of words or phrases. In other words, the story being told takes precedence over poetic style. This is not a criticism. In fact, it makes the poetry clear and accessible to a broad audience–and again makes it ideal for inclusion in classrooms where poetry isn’t traditionally included.

The overall effect of reading from Espada’s early influences and experiences and the lives of the many, varied people he chose to represent in his poetry is a keen sense of the vagaries of individual fortune that require a compassionate approach to other people and a clear-eyed approach to history and justice. Difficulties and triumphs come and go. We don’t choose the times we live in, the currents we’re caught in. The people we cross paths with, align with, and how we treat one another (individually and socially) is what sticks in memory across time and creates an individual legacy. In the case of Espada, it also creates a legacy of social awareness worth preserving.

Thank you for sharing this arc with me. I will be reviewing this book on Goodreads in two places shortly after posting it here. I will review it on Youtube and Amazon after it has been published.