A House of My Own: Stories from My Life by Sandra Cisneros

A House of My Own: Stories from My Life Reviews

• 
  Rowena

  "I have always been a daydreamer, and that's a lucky thing for a writer. Because what is a daydreamer if not another word for thinker, visionary, intuitive--all wonderful words synonymous with 'girl.'"
  
  It's official: I'm a Sandra Cisneros fan. This is the first book of hers that I've read and over the last few years I've found that reading a writer's non-fiction before reading their fiction has helped me better get into the writer's mind, understand their influences and what drives them. for a long time. This collection of essays and book reviews span 30 years of Cisneros's writing career, they go into stories of her life, including her meeting Gwendolyn Brooks and others, her travels, and relationships with her family and friends.
  
  I'm always looking for certain words to detail my experiences of being raised in different cultures and looking for a place to call "home." I pick up a lot from different writers and books, but through language and content, I got closest to my feelings through this book .All these essays are excellent, so warm, and relatable. Cisneros inspired me to write and to talk about my own experiences, she showed me these stories are important:
  
  “For those of us living between two worlds, our job in the universe is to help others see with more than their eyes. . . . Our work as bicultural citizens is to help others to become visionary, to help us all to examine our dilemmas in multiple ways and arrive at creative solutions. Otherwise we all will perish.”
  
  I loved Cisneros' thoughts on writing, inspiration, and her need for her own space. I could relate to this and I often think of how, due to my introvertism, I desired lots of time alone. It that was impossible due to my culture, being an introvert created some suspicion it seems. So I've always loved the night time:
  
  " When I was young and still living at home, my father would call me vampira for writing at night. I couldn't tell him the night was my own private house."
  
  Very prevalent were the themes of a house/home, not only the importance of a home as a place where you live which contains memories, but also as your own place in which to organize and decorate as you wish, based on your wants, needs, etc. There was an interesting essay in this where Cisneros was talking about her love of bright colours and how her neighbours did not take too kindly to her periwinkle purple-coloured home in San Antonio:
  
  "Colour is a story. An inheritance. Were the San Antonio missions rascuache because they imitated the elaborate Moorish tiles they could not afford? Nobody wants to live like they're poor, not even the poor. They prefer to live like kings. That's why they paint their houses with the only wealth they have--spirit.
  
  Mango yellow, papaya orange, cobalt blue. When colours arrive from the 'nobodies who don't create art, but handicrafts, who don't have culture, but folklore,' as Eduardo Galeano sardonically says of the poor, they don't count, they're not available until a Rockefeller or a Luis Barragan borrows them and introduces them into the homes of the rich and gives them status."
  
  One essay in particular stood out to me, one in which Sandra Cisneros talks about a graduate seminar she attended on memory and imagination. The books assigned in seminar were Speak, Memory (Nabokov) , Out of Africa (Dinesen), and The Poetics of Space (Bachelard). This is what she said about the seminar:
  
  "I went home that night and realized my education has been a lie-- had made presumptions about what was 'normal.' I wanted to quit school right then and there, but I didn't. Instead, I got mad, and anger when it's used to act, when used nonviolently has power. I asked myself what I could write about that my classmates couldn't. I didn't want to sound like my classmates; I didn't want to keep imitating the writers I'd been reading. Their voices were right for them but not for me."
  
  And there, I believe, is the strength one eventually has when they realize that what makes them different makes them unique and is a good thing. And we can celebrate our culture and experiences through our writing, and that's what Cisneros did without worrying about how her work would be perceived by those who didn't know, or didn't care to understand, her culture and experiences. This unapologetic writing is what I've come to associate with feminists of colour such as bell hooks, Audre Lorde, and Gloria Anzaldua, and it's so refreshing to see.
  
  I read a library copy of this book but I will definitely be buying myself a copy.
• 
  Letty Lovechild

  I savored this book. Every page. I didn't want it to end. Sandra Cisneros' voice is incredible, strong and proud. She makes me want to write, and be heard.
  This collection of essays and articles are profound, and deserve to be read and shared time and time again. I am so glad to be able to read "new" writing by her, that I had not encountered. Reading A House of My Own, made me want to go back and read Caramelo and House on Mango Street. Her voice is so important to Chicanas, Latinas, y Mexicanas, she really validates all of my worries, and dreams, and questions about my existence in La Frontera.
• 
  Leslie

  Sandra Cisneros’s writing is honest and poetic, and lacks the self-consciousness of someone aspiring to be erudite. I mention this because I think for someone who is multi-lingual, who has read a lot, and lived and traveled around the world; who graduated from a prestigious writing program, and has been lauded with the prestigious MacArthur Fellowship among other awards and honors it seems she could have easily gone in another direction - speaking a lot of academese, for instance - but instead she remains grounded, centered in her own voice and its tributaries as well as the aspiration to appeal to people from all walks of life and possibly people who don’t read many books.
  
  A House of My Own refreshed me from how we are often encouraged to think about writers and writing, where the focus is on stamina and discipline and the mechanics of the writing life. Or content-wise its about revealing the heinous; and the struggle to crack the code of whatever is deep and dark and repressed. Or whatever the currents are in identity politics so the content of the writing is only approached through the lens of keywords and phrases such as “the immigrant experience” or the “LGBT culture,” etc., or more awful things about “what it means to be black” -sigh!)
  
  Very little is said about the dreamer side of being a writer, the spiritual aspect, the celebratory, the love of words and readings and ways to discover meaning and make meaning. We see the hyper-intellectual or code-breaking aspect of writing discussed in ways that exclude huge amounts of people from participating in the joys and revelations associated with the life of the mind. I remember how exciting it was for me when I first read writings by
  bell hooks in the 1990s because (-despite the clunk-and-drag of the language she often used-) she always expressed exuberance about the time she enjoyed alone, thinking and dreaming.
  
  With A House of My Own Sandra Cisneros inspiringly celebrates houses and homes - the houses of spirit, the houses of of friendship, the houses of refuge, houses of work, houses of language - people and places which have nourished her life, her feelings, her perspectives and informed her creativity up to this point in time.
  
  Subtitled Stories From My Life, A House of My Own comprises 40+ writings spanning 30 years of stories of Sandra Cisneros’s life, some of which were first commissioned as lectures, essays, introductions to her own or other artists works, or appreciations and stories she wrote just-because. Also included are:
  *ofrendas for each of her parents
  *a letter to
  Gwendolyn Brooks
  *a letter to a parent who wanted to see
  The House on Mango Street banned (Cisneros did not write this critically-acclaimed book for children yet it has become required reading in many schools)
  *tributes to visual artists, other writers; the musician Astor Piazzolla, and significant books.
  
  A House of My Own is printed on good quality paper and includes nearly 100 color and black and white photographs, so it has a beautiful keepsake quality to it.
• 
  Gretchen Rubin

  A wonderful, eclectic collection of autobiographical essays.
• 
  El

  I met Sandra Cisneros on the page in college, like many young people do, having been assigned
  The House on Mango Street and
  Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories. At first I rejected it all, like I tended to do at that age because I was just that sort of person. As I grew up, though, I found a deeper appreciation for Cisneros and, I'll admit, she's part of the reason why I am now working on my graduate degree in Creative Writing. Yes, that's right.
  
  And it was just this past January, during my third semester of graduate school, where our program actually brought Sandra Cisneros to talk to us and to do a reading. It was the most beautiful moment ever, as was the moment when I brought her a copy of this book to sign and she held my hand while I gushed about how much she has meant to me over the years. She held my hand.
  
  In her essay, "A Tango for Astor,":

  Young people get in line to meet the author and have their book autographed I am the author they've come to meet. Some of them barely able to talk, their eyes like ships lost at sea.
  
  "You don't know what this means to me," they say, fumbling with the page they want me to sign. "You just. You just don't know."
  (p90)

  That was me in the hallway that day. But the thing is, she does know. Because she's been that person too, shy and awkward, meeting someone she feels so strongly about. It's an otherworldly experience.
  
  So was reading this collection of essays, actually. Her essay collection covers several years of her life - essays she wrote at the same time she was working on House on Mango Street, for example. She wrote about a variety of things: her family, living in various places, the people she has met, the lives she has lived.
  
  But the overarching theme is finding a house of her own, from a young girl who moved too frequently and never had a quiet space of her own in such a large family. Where is home for her? What does it entail?

  We find ourselves at home, or homing, in books that allow us to become more ourselves. Home "is not just the place where you were born," as the travel writer
  Pico Iyer once noted. "It's the place where you become yourself."
  (p35, "No Place Like Home")

  At another point she talks about home being wherever she is with her pets. Her pets, her family, are her home.
  
  She writes about being a single woman writer, how that fits her lifestyle better than being in a relationship. Having become single again somewhat recently (has it really been six months already??), I can relate to this more than I ever expected - being a single woman writer, sitting in space of my own design, doing what it is I want to do. It's not always easy and it's not always good. But I know it's good for me; it's what I need.
  
  Almost everything she wrote in these essays are things I feel, have felt, have experienced, or expect to experience as I grow. She made me feel less alone. She's the sort of person who says "Me too" and suddenly everything you've ever dealt with or thought or felt feels just a smidge less lonely. She gets it.
  
  I can't do justice to what Cisneros means to me. I didn't love every essay in this collection, but I love her for sharing them with me. And holding my hand.
  
  Thank you for holding my hand.
• 
  sarah

  This book is sublime, masterful, surprising, full of spirit and unabashed feminism. Composed of experimental vignettes and glimmers from the globe-trotting, empathic, socially conscious writer, teacher, poet, Sandra Cisneros. Some reviews here have expressed disappointment in the so-called lack of "juicy" details revealed, but I felt just the opposite. The stories of Cisneros' life are courageous in their sensitivity and revealing of the lifelong influence that her migratory childhood (as the sole daughter in a family of six brothers) that is threaded throughout all of her work. As a Mexican-American woman growing up in a working-class, Catholic family, her approved vocations and options in life were few. By pursuing a life of education and writing, she forged a new path that went against her familial cultural traditions and socialized gender norms. Her writings have you revelling along with her as she gains both hard-won economic independence and writerly solitude as a young woman, while also supporting and mentoring youth and artistic communities around the world.
  
  Although the book doesn't explicitly touch on her choice to stay single and child-free, I loved the tiny details she chose to share about her home life. The great reveal of this book is found in they ways that Cisneros shares with us her most tender and quiet moments, her struggles and amazing humor, and the many people and places that move her. Not to mention the music and art that inspires her work and daily life. The way she shares her influences and self-reflections is beautiful and startlingly intimate.
  
  Having been an
  https://www.goodreads.com/review/list... fangirl since "A House on Mango Street" and having seen her speak in person twice, I wasn't sure what exactly to expect of this memoir that is not a memoir. A House of My Own is a revelation, and the way Cisneros turns a phrase is singular; I was moved to tears several times and discovered new dimensions of her work many times over while reading.
  
  Every moment is infused with her soulful, often hilarious writing - from her youthful adventures typing Mango Street in a rented house on the Grecian island of Hydra, to her nervous meeting with the great musician and composer Astor Piazzolla, to driving her hero Eduardo Galeano around San Antonio, to her musings on St. Teresa de Avila...and so much more. As you can tell, I adore this book and it's gorgeously put together, filled with lovely photos to boot. If you haven't read her novels or poems yet, I believe you can still find enjoyment of this book and it will certainly spark you to seek out more of her work.
• 
  Anne

  I feel kind of cheated by this book. I'm a long time Cisneros fan, and I'm used to waiting over a decade for her next book and then being blown away. I expected this to be a memoir told in stories; instead, it's a collection of introductions to books and essays she read at various speaking events. They are well written and there are some gems, but serious life experiences are carefully skirted. She mentions lovers and affairs that hurt her, but never ever goes into depth about love and sex. She repeatedly mentions a year long depression but, again, never interrogates the wound. Her mother and father feel like cardboard cut outs and not fleshed out characters. There's a ton of repetition. All in all, this felt like something thrown together to satisfy a contractual obligation to a publisher, not at all a Cisneros masterpiece. I'll keep hoping for some more fiction or poetry, as she remains an idol of mine.
• 
  Lisset

  What A Book!
  
  If I was a Cisneros fan before, this really sealed the deal. So many aspects of this life story resonates with me.
• 
  Jeanne

  A House of My Own: Stories From My Life is a charming memoir in the form of compilation – book reviews, forewards, epilogues, etc. – composed over her writing life and presented more or less in chronological order. Part search for home, part exploration of grief, family, and art, Sandra Cisneros writes with a language that is disarming and playful, communicating volumes in a few words. She talks, for example, about “trying to please [her] Chicago nemesis” (loc. 233). Her San Antonio partner, on the other hand, “was as sweet as burnt-milk candy but as untidy as un remolino tejano en agosto, a Texas dust devil in August” (loc. 5158-5159). (Cisneros generally translates her Spanish phrases, both adding emphasis and making her writing more accessible for English speakers.)
  
  Cisneros writes on the edge of several cultures – born of a Mexican-born father and a Mexican-American mother, traveling the world – which gives her an ability to see things she might not otherwise. She first noticed this when she moved from her childhood home in Chicago to graduate school in Iowa: ”So often you have to run away from home and visit other homes first before you can clearly see your own” (loc. 536-537). Traveling both opens doors, but ultimately closes others, so she did not feel at home in places where she expected to. She quotes Pico Iyer, home “is not just the place where you were born, it’s the place where you become yourself” (loc. 544-545). She becomes herself in her writing, her reading, her art.
  
  Some essays stand out for me, although perhaps that’s for my own idiosyncratic reasons. In No Place like Home, she talks about the advantages and disadvantages of being bicultural. In Resurrections, she talks about the things that no one told her (or that she hadn’t listened to and heard), including some of the changes that come with losing her parents: ”In Mexico they say when someone you love dies, a part of you dies with them. But they forget to mention that a part of them is born in you, not immediately, I’ve learned, but eventually, and gradually. It’s an opportunity to be reborn” (loc. 4102-4104).
  
  A White Flower is a gift to her therapist, talking about how it felt to tell her stories to a therapist, as well as her therapist’s meaning to her life. It includes those questions that she’d like to ask, that she’s too shy to ask, and that most clients surely want to ask: “Do you approve of me, or am I silly?” Even if she didn’t approve, what does it matter? But it matters a lot. To me. I would ask whether the stories I’ve told her are any good— worth repeating, worth remembering. That’s how I define a good story. Does she get tired listening to stories all day and all week, year after year? How does one stay healthy at the end of a day full of stories? Does one have to shake oneself off like a dog after its bath?” (loc. 3244-3248).
  
  In asking these and other questions that most of us would like to ask, by opening up the oft-overlooked, Cisneros enlarges our view of the world. She reaches her hand across the aisle and I feel like Cisneros’s sister rather than only una extraña gringa.
  
• 
  Adrineh

  I decided to read Sandra Cisneros' A House of My Own: Stories from My Life after reading a review by avid reader and active GoodReads user Rowena. I've never read any of Cisneros' books and, to my surprise, never heard of her either. Thank you, Rowena, for introducing me to her! I believe there is the right book for the right time, and this was the book for me at this time. Cisneros writes about writing, about her lifetime of finding places to write, of finding her own space — it's no coincidence that her book (a biography, really) is titled A House of My Own. Much like Virginia Woolf's famous essay "A Room of One's Own," Cisneros also argues that a woman must have her own space (in her case, an entire house to herself) to write.
  
  The book is, in fact, a collection of previously published essays and speeches or lectures she's already given. So if you're a Cisneros fan, you might've read these stories before. Each story includes an introduction which provides background and context. It's the perfect book to read if you find you're unable to get into a full-length novel, and only have time for short stories at a time. Though the stories are arranged chronologically (from the past to the present-day), I think they could be read in any order. This is a book that you can pick up and select any story to read at random.
  
  I think any book that changes your opinion about something is a good book indeed. In this case, Cisneros changed my opinion of Texas. She lived 20 years of her life in San Antonio, a city I barely knew before I read about it in A House of My Own. She made me curious about a state I had previously harshly judged. And of course, being a Mexican-American (or as she says, a US Mexican) writer, she writes a lot about Mexico and Mexican culture. I definitely stepped away from the book knowing more than I ever have about this country that's on the same continent as I am.
  
  If you love to read and aspire to write (especially if you're a woman), then this book is for you. No, forget that: What is the power of a book if not to introduce you to people, places, experiences that you know little about? Even if you don't aspire to write, you should read this book. I highly recommend it.
• 
  Jan Priddy

  When she was reading in Portland, Sandra Cisneros talked about losing track of what she had written BC (before computers). Her reading was powerful and sweet, her advice wise and generous.
  
  I am a longtime Cisneros fan, and I wrote my review of her visit before I had even finished the book:
  http://janpriddyoregon.blogspot.com/2...
  
  These are essays Cisneros said she had to get in print before they were lost, written over the past thirty years or so. They are "occasional" pieces, written for specific events since she published The House on Mango Street. Each is prefaced with current reflection, explanation, and updates—why she wrote the essay and how it fits into her life and what has changed since.
  
  I bought an extra copy to send to a friend. My only regret is that I did not buy four copies for four other friends.
• 
  Alejandra

  This book was lovely and captivated me in a way that many books can't manage. She inspires me to write, to be my best self and to no longer be afraid. She is me and I am her as the only daughter of Mexican parents. I could relate on many levels and am so happy her voice penetrates through all the noise. The way she weaves words leaves you in awe at times. I'm biased as a Latina, but recommend this as a Latina who is slowly becoming proud of her roots and learning to see the beauty.
• 
  Brooklyn

  A House is not a home
  
  Famed Latina writer Cisneros has put together a collection of writings and autobiographical essays. We learn a lot about her in the process. Beautiful subtle - not for those seeking thrills unless literary or sensual.
• 
  Ayala

  beautiful
• 
  Olivia

  i think i’d read anything by Sandra Cisneros, i love reading about the world from her very touching, magical perspective
  
  “I was lucky enough to be wearing my swimsuit, or I might not have ventured in. The water was calm and still. I lay down at the shallow lip of water and land where the sand, ridged and soft and firm at the same time, settled into the contours of my back and neck. The water, warm as a body, lapped at my earlobes, and the trees set a dappled light waving the sunlight gently over me as if giving me a cleansing. The waves, slow and calming, murmured things I didn’t need to understand for now. I shut my eyes.
  And I felt something had come and gone in my life at odd times without my asking. A sense of detaching from myself, of sliding out of myself and connecting with everything in the universe. Of being so empty I could fill up with everything.”
• 
  Michelle

  I loved this book and this review I'm writing from my phone will surely not do it justice. Each chapter stands on its own and together paint a picture of Cisneros' life as a writer struggling to find her "home". I found myself pausing after each piece, feeling like I needed to give it time to settle in me before going on to the next. At the same time, I couldn't get enough and didn't want to stop reading. I still don't want it to end.
  
  I don't know where to begin to describe why I loved it so much, except to say, that for me, Cisneros represents and eloquently writes about what it means to live between homes as a Chicano. Ni de aqui, ni de alla.
  
  My criticisms are few: because the chapters were made up of already written pieces that were edited, there is some repetition. Also, while I find her to be self-aware and enlightened in many areas, there were a couple comments that sat uncomfortable with me, not enough to ruin anything, just enough to remind me that idolization does no one any favors.
  
  I borrowed this copy from the library but I will be buying my own so I can mark it up. I will be going back to some of these pieces for a long time to come and highly recommend it to others.
• 
  Jamie

  Essays as a memoir--definitely not a memoir. Cisneros revisits and refines many many essays and speeches from her illustrious career; she illuminates many many facets of her life that I had not previously known about her. I love her commitment to all art and to deepening her commitment to herself and her writing, and that is served well by her revision of essays and compilation into one text. It's wonky that way, though, and the many long footnotes. There are great elements for excerpting with students.
• 
  Kristl

  Like slipping into someone else's beautifully rendered life. Like being warmly invited but landing more comfortably than a mere guest would. Experience Cisneros's trademark vibrant poetry while traveling the world with her at all stages of her life. Escape and be pushed closer to yourself. I can't say enough about this book.
• 
  Audrey Ashbrook

  A House of My Own by Sandra Cisneros is a memoir made up of essays, stories and speeches that Cisneros has written throughout her life. 
  
  My favorites were: Hydra House, Only Daughter, I Can Live Sola and I Love to Work, Tapicero's Daughter, A White Flower, A House of My Own, The Girl Who Became a Saint: Teresa Urrea, and A Borrowed House. 
  
  I really enjoyed reading this memoir. I adore Cisneros' voice, her independence, her passion for writing and reading, and her desire to have a home of her own. She writes, "I dreamt of homes the way some dream of husbands" a couple of times in this memoir, which I really liked. I also loved how she wrote about her travels, writing, education, Mexican culture and about her family, especially her parents.
  
  Looking forward to reading her poetry collections and Carmelo, the novel she says she wrote for her father about her childhood.
• 
  BookChampions

  Full disclosure: I am a huge Cisneros fan. When I finally got around to reading A House of My Own, I expected a collection of deep cuts for fans like me and random essays from other sources clipped together into a book. What I found there instead is something a lot more cohesive than expected—and a something easily accessible to anyone interested in how creative people keep the well from drying up.
  
  It was a joy to read (and much of the time to listen to the audiobook, read by Cisneros herself) these essays. I want to share them with every artist, especially women artists, who has ever impacted me for there are so many reflections on what Cisneros had to fight for and compromise along the way, while also sharing her insights on life, death, and the nature of art and stories. It's a glorious collection!
  
  While it may help to be familiar with The House on Mango Street at the very least (and if you aren't, why not acquaint yourself with a book that takes only a hour or two to read but will honestly stay with you forever?), you don't even need to be familiar with Cisneros' work to be inspired by the many insightful things she has to share from a lifetime of writing experiences.
  
  Sandra Cisneros is obviously not a prolific writer. I waited years and years and years, it seems, for Cisneros to finally release Caramelo, her third major work of fiction, before mostly falling away from the publishing scene. A House of My Own not only covers those early years as a writer, but it fills in the gaps since Caramelo and reminded me not only of how important her work to me is as a writer, a teacher, and a human being. But it also is testament to a writer fully devoted to her craft and all the writing experiences that come with being a published writer who has impacted as many readers as she has. I would encourage everyone to read this, especially those admirers of her work and those who need a champion for doing work that is honest, outside-the-box, daring, and full of passion. You have a friend in Sandra Cisneros.
• 
  Colleen

  I’ve been a fan of Cisneros since middle school, when I read “Eleven,” like a lot of American middle schoolers. She perfectly conveyed what it felt like when you woke up on your eleventh birthday, the first time a momentous day doesn’t feel momentous. I didn’t actively pursue her until recently, when I read The House on Mango Street at the tail end of 2013, and now when I saw this in the new arrivals at my library.
  
  This book is gorgeously produced. It’s printed on thick white paper and has full color photos from Cisneros’s life. It’s very heavy; I was surprised by its weight when I first picked it up. This book bills itself has a collection of autobiographical essays based around houses and places that shaped Cisneros. For the most part this is true, but sometimes the premise is stretched, such as an essay on a piece of artwork she enjoyed. If anything this book is sort of like a collected set of rarities, filled with pieces written for news publications, museums, and speeches.
  
  Some of the essays were fantastic. The opening essay on Cisneros’s time on Hydra, as well as the introduction to the 25th anniversary edition of The House on Mango Street and the final essay, “Mi Casa es Su Casa,” were wonderfully written and executed. Some of them were very rote and boring, or just so short they left little impact. Despite that, I still found at least one line in each essay that was beautifully written and rang so true I had to stop and savor it. Cisneros has a beautiful way of turning phrases I just have to stop and admire her work.
  
  If you’re a die-hard fan, I would recommend this. But if you’re a bit of a casual fan or on the fence, I wouldn’t. This showcases her beautiful writing as well as her own life story, but there is nothing really essential or gripping about it.
  
• 
  Bookish

  I miss hearing from
  Sandra Cisneros. She doesn't do talks or interviews very often and the ones she does are recorded even less frequently. So reading
  A House of My Own: Stories from My Life felt like I had a front row seat to interview after interview (even though this isn't the format the book takes) in which she relates society, culture, and politics to how her life and her art have unfolded. She brings up the art and artists that have influenced her life in various ways - my favourite bits of the book - and the effects of her upbringing on her work, her observations of the towns and houses she's lived in and of course the people shaped within those environments. And its all told in that very distinctive Sandra Cisneros voice of hers that I can hear as I read the words on the page. It was a wonderful experience and having finished I have so many avenues to go down to discover for myself all this art and these artists that she highlighted so beautifully in
  A House of My Own: Stories from My Life.
• 
  Jude

  her voice and writing are so beautiful and draws you in. I still remember the first time I read her in high school and how my AP english teacher marveled at the compliment I gave her then. It still stands, her words move and resonate with me like few others can do. This was a lovely anthology, filled memoir and stories and writing. You're growing and moving with her through her life and I can't wait to read it again and again.
• 
  Mell

  Goodreads just lost/failed to save my thoughtfully written review. This is good but a bit repetitive because it's a collection of essays, speeches and introductions written over the years. Cisneros is brilliant but the book is a bit long and feels occasionally disjointed, as a patchwork collection can.
  
  This was my choice for the "book written by a feminist" for the Summer Reading Challenge.
• 
  Shamiram

  There's a piece early on in here about finding comfort and a home in certain books. This book is one of my homes.
• 
  Featherbooks

  Wanting to finish
  A House of My Own: Stories from My Life which has been on my currently reading list for a year and a half, I read all morning with pleasure. The delay was because it's a book to savor, each essay or talk dealing with a different topic but centered around writing, creativity, feminism and
  Sandra Cisneros's seeking and finding "a room of one's own" be it in Chicago, San Antonio or Mexico. She entertains with stories of her parents, her six brothers, aunts and uncles, five dogs. She honors artists, musicians and writers. At some point in my own misspent life, I decided to collect only hardback books and got rid of many worthy paperbacks so now I reach for her treasured reading such as
  The Time of the Doves,
  Canek or
  Days and Nights of Love and War, these titles are not there and need to be bought again because oddly enough the library doesn't have them. Cisneros' reviews of these authors and visits to their homes or graves are inspiring and richly described as in
  Camellia Street in Barcelona where "the buildings are boxlike and ugly; walls a nubby gray like a dirty wool sweater" and there are no camellias. The plaza is "bald as a knuckle" "air throbbing with children, motorbikes, goofy teenagers hitting and then hugging each other, schoolgirls on the brink of brilliant catastrophes." When describing her attraction to Rodoreda and her work, Cisneros says "I fumble about like one of Rodoreda's characters, as clumsy with words as a carpenter threading a needle."
  
  Her teenage discovery of sex yields "new discoveries in its depths: And, like writing, for a slip of a moment it could be spiritual, the cosmos pivoting on a pin, could empty and fill you all at once like a Ganges, a Piazzolla tango, a tulip bending in the wind. I was nothing, and I was everything in the universe little and large--twig, cloud, sky. How had this incredible energy been denied me!"
  
  She travels to Greece, Yugoslavia, Spain, Mexico, France, Italy and in everything she writes about her poetic skill awes me. Books by poets have a special place in my pantheon as do talks about reading and authors.
• 
  Keely

  A House of My Own is sort of a memoir in collected writings. In these stories and essays, Cisneros reflects on everything from teaching high school dropouts in Chicago, to writing parts of The House on Mango Street on the Greek island of Hydra, to finding her longed for home in San Antonio...and causing a stir when she painted it purple. These writings also include loving tributes to her father and mother, along with the many artists, friends, and mentors who have filled her life. The idea of home as refuge, security, and creative space is a central theme that recurs throughout.
  
  I think I read Caramelo around ten years ago, but other than that, I haven't read Cisneros much since I was in graduate school more than twenty years ago. Coming back to her after all this time felt...well, like coming home. I so enjoyed returning to her vivid and poetic but thoroughly accessible writing style, and it was fun learning more about her life and the origins of Mango Street. Cisneros is one of those powerful Boomer women writers that I feel like I don't hear from that much anymore, and she made me nostalgic for their mentoring, empowering way of writing about and to women. I'm glad I listened to this on audiobook, because Cisneros's distinctive speaking voice added a lot of emotion. Of course, her writing is the kind you want to linger over a little bit, but hearing her added enough that I didn't mind rewinding to re-listen to certain passages.
• 
  Gitanjali

  Aahh how I enjoyed this book. It's tender, candid and touched my soul. It was a treat to lose myself to Cisneros' writings and to read about her life experiences.
  - Her time on Hydra Island in Greece was perfectly recounted. I felt her happiness and her insecurity and her youth so vividly through her words, I was right there with her and it was gorgeous
  - Her portraits of her parents are so tender and loving. Both were imperfect and I can imagine it must have been hard to carve out space for desires and ambition with a traditional father and an overwhelmed mom. But not a word of complaint or judgment. Just pure love
  - Her mom sacrificed her entire life for her kids. She was unhappy it sounds like and very angry. Gosh, how I relate. And yet, Cisneros talks about it with empathy and love. I aspire to be like this.
  - Loved the piece about Huipil. About the indigenous mom who traveled miles with a bunch of kids back and forth. How hard life is for this population - how they are erased, despised and pushed further into poverty. My heart broke reading about it
  - She spends a lot of time talking about her periwinkle house in San Antonio - how important it was to her to have a place of her own. This spoke to me on such a deep level. I related viscerally
  - Her piece on Margaret Urrea - pure magic
  - I thoroughly enjoyed her experiences with the supernatural. I love her deep spiritual connection with the universe/god whatever you might call it and her profound life experiences
  - She candidly talks about the discrimination in Mexican society - how white is good and dark is bad. Reminded me so much of India and our rampant casteism/colorism/racism
  
  I will think about this book for a long time <3