It’s difficult to categorize Matthew Hittinger’s chapbook, Platos de Sal – extended narrative poem? short story in verse? This recent chapbook from Seven Kitchens Press seems to defy labels.
In the first section, Knit, a student named David arrives home where his grandmother hands him a letter from his friend Juan, who is a deployed member of the military. The story unfolds slowly and precisely, as Hittinger allows the complex relationships of his characters to become clear in small increments. A loaded word here. An evocative image there. David explains his feelings for Juan as juntar -- "knit together".
I know no other way to describe it – did you
ever feel that way with Abuelo or before?
Rut flipped her knitting, the right needle full –
and what was left became right as her sticks
clicked together, the yarn pulled through a loop
just like Mara taught her. Mara taught her
many things that year at the shore – one time
they husked ears, blonde corn silks scattered on porch
steps, in hair. Rut liked to peel each layer
one by one, which frustrated Mara who
showed Rut how to part the sheath up top, grab
hold, and strip the ear in one downward thrust,
the sheath splitting in two layered slips. ‘No,
not with your abuelo, David.’
In section two, Field, we get to hear Juan’s voice as he describes, in the letter, how the night “looks like shards of green and brown glass / scattered on the grass”. A parallel storyline comes into play as we find out that David’s father refuses to sell off pieces of his land to developers the way Juan’s father has been doing. Juan’s letter reveals his take on the changes occurring in his absence “Asphalt hum? Not / for me. You and me – we’re salt – will always like dirt.”
In the third section, Bar, David and his grandmother exchange memories of a trip to the shore they took with Juan, before he was deployed. This section is perhaps my favorite as the language expands to pull in the details that complete the picture Hittinger has been working towards:
it but all he could see was the water,
how it escaped down Juan’s bicep’s inner
line, down the cleft between his pecs, his abs.
It’s remarkable to see how David and his abuela reveal themselves, arriving at a complicit understanding of each other that is never spoken outright, but is clear nonetheless. In Platos de Sal, Hittinger has crafted a story that eschews flash and pomp, instead captivating the reader with its quietness.
All chapbooks by Seven Kitchens Press are hand-trimmed and hand-tied. These are gorgeous works of art in and of themselves. Books can be ordered directly from the press.
24 pp.
