Syndome by Éric Morales-Franceschini

A REVIEW 
by Nishi Vargas

Note from the editor: We are proud to have debuted Éric Morales-Franceschini’s poetry in May of 2019. Since then, we congratulate him for going on to win the Anzaldúa Poetry Prize for his chapbook, Autopsy of a Fall (Newfound 2021), and for having been awarded the Philip Levine Poetry Prize, (selected by Juan Felipe Herrera) for his debut full-length poetry collection titled Syndrome, (Anhinga Press, 2024), and reviewed here: 

Syndrome is a relevant, appropriate, and universal collection of experiences, emotions, factual data, and poetry written by life and the world, presented to us by Éric Morales- Franceschini. This celebrated debut collection is resistance literature at its finest, full of rich and compelling testimonio sure to evoke depth of feeling that resonates with readers. 
 
Titled to reflect a psychological pathology of racialized and nationalized Otherness-- a kind of “Puerto Rican Syndrome,” these poems issue forth in bittersweet cantos from the geopolitics of trauma, reverberations of the author’s isla invaded, the screams of hysterical mothers, the love of a precious daughter and the insidious echo of settler colonialism through the Boricua psyche and corazón.
 
A former construction worker, Morales-Franceschini, continues to engineer structures with his stories; stories from his childhood are presented both straightforwardly and metaphorically. In a lyrical and didactic unpeeling of identity’s complex layers, Morales-Franceschini weaves personal remembrances, which, like Boricua ballads, convey a sense of almost belonging to Puerto Rico—in his Abuelo’s bodega, the “baptismal” love of his Abuelita—together with the indisputable data of disproportionate power. From the dark and vulgar views of imperialists--they would make fine servants—to beautiful survival lyrics— fidelity to all things incandescent— Morales-Franceschini’s poems traverse the distance from the head to the heart in resilient literary leaps that, at times, resemble anthems. 
 
The author’s literary background is evident throughout the book by the use of endnotes, sidenotes (through parentheses), etymology, vocabulary, and a host of literary devices as Morales-Franceschini tackles issues and themes brought forth by colonialism and its changes: confusion around self-identity, well-intentioned disaster, the celebration of such disaster, religious guidance, eugenics, and the day-to-day. He builds bridges between the subjective experience of one Boricua to all Boricuas, and from there to all peoples who have been affected by colonization (read: all of us). 
 
In Confederates in the (Global) South, Morales-Franceschini says in response to his neighbor saying they should bring down the confederate flag:

...her supposition is
that there is a symbol
already at hand, one
to which she can pledge
her allegiance
– guiltlessly, unequivocally
which really just means
that my neighbor is beset
either by bad faith or
simply doesn’t know that
other history in that
other South; what that
other flag means to us
other Americans.
 
We are constantly taught new hystories*–that is to say, new to us. Hystory can be written and rewritten in so many ways. We hear or read stories and hystories from the subjective experiences of those present. Unfortunately, it is often the case that the hystory we hear has been changed to fit another’s narrative, like the party game “telephone.” There are those who can’t remember what is being said and say it a slightly different way, and those who, for another reason (e.g. humor, control, power) change what is said to whatever suits their needs. The hystory presented here is one that is not contested, and parts of it indeed can’t be. Morales-Franceschini uses statistics and quotes as rhetoric, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions from the objective truths presented.

These are the hystories that are far too infrequently told. For example, plenty hear of the Buffalo Soldiers along Bob Marley’s electric organs and guitars, but not of the proportionately high per-capita numbers of Boricua, American Samoan, and Chamorro soldiers in the US armed forces. We are told that D.C. should have representation in the government, as it would be larger than two currently existing states, so why not that of Puerto Rico, whose population is currently over three million, placing it higher than over a dozen states? Could it be because people consider those from D.C. to be Americans, while people from Puerto Rico are Puerto Ricans? What of the millions of indigenous Americans, and their federally recognized tribes? These sentiments, skillfully embedded in Morales-Franceschini verse, are not meant to cause a divide, but to ask genuine questions–to provoke thought. 
 
This obra literaria gleans force from its experimental interdisciplinary approach reframing history—lest it repeat itself—with moving vistas of ontological fragmentation in which we are all girasoles, hungry for more, deeply rooted into a lost terra nullius, yearning for “a yesterday that never came.” Through this easeful interplay between stolen worlds and reclaimed realities Morales-Franceschini poetry does more than validate, it communicates a sense of urgency, infusing verse with revolutionary potency to spark overdue conversations surrounding race and the reclaiming of dignity. 

With the use of a little research and a valuable notes section, the book remains far from recondite to those with different backgrounds. It conjures epiphanies, the appreciation of beauty, and a plethora of emotions: empathy, sympathy, frustration, solemnity, and inspiration. Morales-Franceschini allows us to take a peek into the childhood that developed into what may presently seem to be bold, unflinching pieces aimed at unraveling the syndromes that surround us, but will surely be seen, retrospectively, as the zeitgeist of what is to come. As is mentioned in the book: our work here is not done. 
 
In brief, it’s very easy to see why Eric Morales-Franceschini’s obra was chosen by Juan Felipe Herrera for the prestigious 2022 Philip Levine Prize for Poetry. May Syndrome become a diaspora literature classic helping usher in a new era! 
 
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*I am choosing to use the word hystory as it was introduced to me in this book: “It is to [Patricia] Gherovici that I owe the neologism “hystory,” and the notion thereby of: a story hysterically overwrought by History.”

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​Nishi Vargas (they/them) is a US born citizen to two immigrants. They are a first-generation college graduate who grew up surrounded by writing. They are a lover of the literary arts, and after receiving a Bachelor of Science, decided to pursue their passions. A self-proclaimed nomad, they spend their days traveling, animal spotting, bird watching, writing, and studying with their beloved partner. This is their first review for Somos en escrito Magazine.