Breanna Foskit Reviews V. Ruiz's In Stories We Thunder

V. Ruiz is a queer Xicana astrologer, artist, and writer fascinated by language and the magic it evokes. They currently live in Los Angeles with their little one, underworld roaming pets, and partner. Aside from studying the cosmos, they enjoy their work as an Associate Publisher for Row House Publishing. They also work as a traditional astrologer, and you can often find them ranting about astrology and magic online as The Celestial Bruja. Their writing has appeared in Fugue, Black Warrior Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and Carve Magazine, among other places. In Stories We Thunder is their debut collection.

V. Ruiz’s book of poems, In Stories We Thunder, is a magnificent read. Ruiz intertwines the real horrors of womanhood with fantastical descriptions of night, Wicca, and fables.

Ruiz’s use of code switching adds dimension to the characters and their experiences. Many of the words written in Spanish appear repeatedly, such as “sangre,” “hija,” and “estrella.” Ruiz explains the choice to write in “Spanglish” in an interview with Sundress Publications by revealing that they had one audience with one experience in mind while writing, and that those who don’t speak Spanish may enjoy the story, but it was a gift to those with their specific experience.

In addition to their “Spanglish” writing, I also found their diction and symbolism to be unique. Throughout the collection, Ruiz uses imagery such as the moon, stars, and blood that invite the reader into a celestial world of magic. Ruiz uses the moon to symbolize an objectively benevolent witness to the transgressions present in this world. The moon’s ever-present companion, the stars, seem to symbolize hope for Ruiz and their characters. Blood also appears throughout the collection. In the poem "Sangre," Ruiz writes about discovering blood as a source of healing. Ruiz writes:

“It is only years later that I Learn
The Tarahumara of Chihuahua healed
Through bleedings- rivers of red
From curandera’s precision

The knowledge unlocked 
a dam of guilt
Loca loca loca
When all I wanted was to find dios 
En mi sangre.”

Ruiz’s book expertly portrays the experience of womanhood. Their poems remind us of the darkest horrors women are subjected to, including the violence often committed against them and the potential for suffering in their lives, such as childbirth, loss of virginity, and period pains. Throughout the collection, there is a struggle for power between Ruiz’ male figures and the women they oppress. This struggle for power can be seen in the way Ruiz’ descriptions of non-cis-het men fluctuate between innocent and frail, and strong and powerful. In some poems, women are painted as “Little Deers,” and “Las mujeres caídas,” but in other poems such as “Puta,” they reclaim derogatory names, and by doing so, reclaim power.

The reclamation of stolen strength is not the only recurring theme in this collection. Ruiz doesn’t leave the reader to believe in only doom for the future. The collection seems to serve as a love letter to their hija. It is fitting then that Ruiz oscillates between both hope and truth. Though they acknowledge the darkest parts of the world, Ruiz still hopes that their daughter will learn to take up space, be unapologetically herself, and remain full of wonder. These hopeful messages are conveyed through Ruiz’s “remixes” of Aesop’s famous fables.

These fables are another of Ruiz’s interesting stylistic choices. Ruiz uses the original tales, but their retellings take on a more mature air and reimagine the intricacies and experiences that all of the characters in the original tales might have experienced. Ruiz described Aesop’s Fables as feeling “very black and white,” so they morphed them into something more complex that lives in the gray area in between. Aesop himself maintained enough hopefulness to tell the tales, despite being an enslaved person. His words have remained and touched people for thousands of years, so it is only fitting that Ruiz should “carry on in the words we speak/ in stories we thunder.” 

Ruiz’s ability to infuse the brutality of the world with magic and wonder make their collection feel pleasurable, while still imparting the importance of taking action against existing horrors. Their poetry feels personal, but still manages to connect with the audience through shared experiences and traumas. 

Breanna Foskit is an editorial intern for Hayden’s Ferry Review.