‘Guatemalan Rhapsody’: A Q&A with writer Jared Lemus ahead of Six Bridges Book Festival

Whether you’re eager to find a surprise bestseller with an underwater creature as its protagonist (“Remarkably Bright Creatures” by Shelby Van Pelt), cynical about the integrity of musicmaking in the era of mass streaming (“Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist” by Liz Pelly), curious about the history of racial inequality in American education (“The Battle for the Black Mind” by Karida Brown), or looking for a crime thriller that, according to The Washington Post, “blurs any imaginary line between genre and great literature” (“Saint of the Narrows Street” by William Boyle), the Central Arkansas Library System’s Six Bridges Book Festival has a book for you. With nearly 50 visiting writers in tow, it’s likely that any other stray fascination you can imagine will also be represented at the festival, which runs the gamut from fiction to nonfiction to poetry.

Arkansas writers appearing at Six Bridges include Regina Black, Kevin Brockmeier, Viktoria Capek, Eli Cranor, Susie Dumond, Buckley T. Foster, Carolyn Guinzio, Maria Hoskins, Jared Lemus, Linsey Miller, Adolph L. Reed Jr., Kat Robinson, Ginny Myers Sain, Vaughn Scribner, Alex Vernon, Neena Viel and Rhona Weaver.

Getting fully prepared for Six Bridges, which runs from Sept. 28-Oct. 5, might be the world’s longest homework assignment, so we’ve collected a handful of email and phone interviews with Arkansas-connected authors to whet your palate. For a full schedule, head to cals.org/six-bridges-book-festival.

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A Kenan Visiting Writer at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Jared Lemus is a Guatemalan-American fiction writer who grew up in Little Rock, where he attended Parkview High School and the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. His debut book, “Guatemalan Rhapsody,” came out in March. Author Jess Walter referred to it as a “dazzling collection of stories about dreamers, outlaws, holy men, and at least one waterfall tender.”

Immigrant narratives are always vital, but there’s an unfortunate urgency to the current moment. How do the stories in “Guatemalan Rhapsody” speak to the political reality for immigrants under the Trump Administration? 

Most of my stories don’t deal with immigration or immigrants directly. The reason I did this is because there seems to be an expectation of the immigrant narrative, where the “successful” or “victorious” migrant finally makes it to U.S. soil and they live happily ever after. This, however, is not the reality for most immigrants, and I wanted my stories to reflect that. The ones that take place in Guatemala are slice-of-life stories; these characters are living their lives and dealing with their day-to-day issues; none of them are imagining a “better” life in the U.S. Why? Because most people wouldn’t leave their homeland unless they had to. The stories set in the U.S. deal with characters who are trying to better their circumstances and lives now that they’re here, born to parents who emigrated. They’re not suddenly well-off because their parents moved to the U.S. They still have to deal with poverty, homelessness, substance abuse, racism, xenophobia, language barriers, etc. I wanted to show that immigrating isn’t in itself a success, but rather something that is forced upon people who have no other option in their home country.

And, under the current presidency, there is suddenly even more added pressure. Just because of skin tone, people have to weigh whether or not they should go to work that day, to risk being picked up by ICE agents or ICE impersonators, to risk being shackled and thrown out of a plane into the ocean, to risk going to a concentration camp because they need to make money to feed their family. Being here isn’t the success story people want you to think it is. 

I read that your family moved to Little Rock when you were about 5 years old and that most of your childhood was spent here. What kind of impact did living in Arkansas have on your writing? And does The Natural State show up — either explicitly or otherwise — in “Guatemalan Rhapsody”?

I always say that I could have grown up in Japan, India or Australia, but at home, it would have always been Guatemala — the customs, the food, the dialect, the upbringing, that would have been the same regardless of where we lived. With that being said, as I got older, I spent many of my teen years and early 20s in the underbelly/drug scene of the capital. I think those experiences are definitely in the collection. Out of the 12 stories, four are set in the U.S., and three of those resemble Little Rock, though it’s never directly stated. “Whistle While You Work” takes place in a fictional version of the UA Little Rock campus, “Bus Stop Baby” takes place, partly, in a dilapidated house off Cantrell Road, and “Heart Sleeves” includes my first apartment off Markham and shouts out a few of the places (though not specifically) where I got tattooed in my youth. So, yes, Little Rock is there if you look for it, but it can also be any other city in the U.S.     

In reading reviews of “Guatemalan Rhapsody,” I came across words like “melancholy,” “bleak” and “unvarnished.” What was it like to take on such weighty subject material? 

Ha! Yeah, I always wonder about those descriptions. To me, this is the reality of my characters. They aren’t thinking of their lives in these terms. I’ve been through some hard times in my life, but while unhoused, I never thought, “What a bleak story.” I thought, “Damn, this sucks.” My characters are more concerned with looking out and pushing forward. It’s only in retrospect that we’re able to say, “That was a dark time,” because, in the present, it’s the only thing that exists. With that being said, I think that many of my stories have a hopeful ending. And I think that’s because I’m always wishing the best for these characters, for these past versions of myself, for these versions of people I’ve met or know. “Bus Stop Baby” even gives readers a chance to choose their own adventure with the ending: one way more hopeful than the other. But, even when I don’t take that story into account, most of these stories end with a glimmer of hope, a chance for a better future. Along with this, I’ve been told that I am a fairly funny individual. I think this stems from past traumas, heartbreaks and other painful experiences. Because of this, I think every one of my stories, regardless of how “bleak” or “dark” or “depressing,” has moments of humor and levity. These characters are in some dark places and sometimes the only light is a moment of joy or ironic humor or simply a joke. That comedic relief — even if it stems from a place of sadness — that’s how you know their spirit isn’t broken. 

Who’s the writer you’re most excited to encounter at Six Bridges and why?

I’m very excited to meet and commune with everyone, but I have a special interest in encountering Shelby Van Pelt, author of “Remarkably Bright Creatures,” because she is a fellow Ecco-HarperCollins author. Seeing her novel skyrocket the way it has, let’s just say that I am hoping for the best when my novel is released. I would love to pick her brain.