Patricia Coral on hybridity and memoirs in “Women Surrounded by Water”

“Women Surrounded by Water,” a 2024 memoir filled with poetry, photographs and narrative, snaps you out of your reading comfort zone in the best way through its exploration of the life of Puerto Rican author Patricia Coral. Coral bends the narrative structure to shine a light on her experiences, threading themes of colonization, addiction, diaspora, grief, trauma and womanhood. 

When reading the book for the first time, fragmentation is the first word that comes to mind. Having worked on it for so long without thinking about the memoir’s exact form or structure, Coral now describes the writing process as similar to a collage.

“The book form is hybrid and nonlinear, and it is a faithful translation of the way memory and traumatic experiences operate,” says Coral. “I think this work was always meant to have this shape.”  

This debut memoir is a testimony of our Latine stories. To Coral, who weaves her bilingual identity and languages into her narrative, storytelling is where our unique power lies. “Our stories are needed, and by writing our experiences, we’re refusing to be silenced or erased,” says Coral. “Our writing is testimony that we exist, we are here, and we are not going anywhere.”  

Coral started her writing career in Puerto Rico, where she mainly wrote in Spanish during her Hispanic studies. After moving to Houston, Texas, she began writing in English to find a writing community. She eventually migrated to D.C., where she joined the American University MFA program to finish her manuscript. “Maybe if I stayed in Puerto Rico, or if I found a community of Spanish-speaking writers earlier in my career, I would have written the book in Spanish,” she says. 

Coral is also the former director of events for Politics and Prose Bookstore. She has contributed to numerous literary magazines, and her work has been supported by the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities. Along with this, “Women Surrounded by Water” was longlisted for the 2024 National Book Critics Circle Award in Autobiography.

We talked with Coral to learn more about her memoir and her intertwined themes of language, fragmentation and resilience. 

Language is an integral part of your identity as a bilingual writer. How does your bilingualism inform the rhythm, meaning and emotional layers in your writing?

The Spanish language and Latine experiences are emotionally layered. When I write, I bring my whole self to the page, and those layers are present in my book even though it has been written in a borrowed language. I can also hear the musicality of the Spanish language and the storytelling structures we use in Puerto Rico to tell our stories. I feel the voice of this work — my voice — is different from the voice you would find in most books that are written by a native English speaker, and I believe in part it is because of the influence of the Spanish language and my cultural heritage.

Your memoir lives in a space between nonfiction and poetry. How do you decide which form is the best vessel for a particular story or idea?

I have a strong commitment to follow my instincts as a writer, so I don’t think about rules or limitations when I am writing. I write each story or idea in the way that feels the most authentic and true to me, and [I] rarely work within specific genres until I am revising my work. When I’m writing, I just allow my work to exist in the way it needs. My stories and ideas find their own vessels, and some vessels can be more effective than others, depending on the emotions or topics of the piece. Most of my writing is between genres, primarily poetry and nonfiction.

Speaking of fragmentation, there’s a recurring theme in your work of finding strength in fragmented spaces, both physically and emotionally. You mentioned this as a metaphor when you moved to Houston after your divorce, and your book also shows fragmentation in the form. Can you talk about how you learned to embrace this fragmentation as part of your identity?

Fragmentation goes hand in hand with inhabiting spaces of in-betweenness. As a Puerto Rican living outside of the island, I inhabit multiple spaces physically and emotionally. At some point, instead of resisting this reality, I had to embrace it and understand there’s strength in fragmentation. I had to own my identity.

Embracing fragmentation is an act of constant acceptance and a decision to exist and speak from that truth and experience. In many ways, the book is fragmented because it touches on memory and experiences of trauma but also because it is a reflection of myself and my fragmented identity. 

You write about the intersection of personal loss with the collective grief of your island. How does this shared history of colonization and trauma, like the effects of Hurricane Maria, shape the personal narratives within your work?

Our shared experiences of trauma and colonization impact our daily lives in more ways than we can convey, and I believe it especially impacts our relationship with the island and with one another. Throughout the book we can see how it also shapes our reality and narratives. This book is very personal, but through those personal [moments], it explores our political experience. 

Your memoir touches deeply on themes of grief and loss, yet there’s a striking resilience in the way you navigate them. How do you approach writing about such personal and painful experiences while also maintaining a sense of healing?

I started writing many years ago — specifically journaling — to make sense of these experiences, but I didn’t start working on pieces for a manuscript until I was emotionally healed and detached enough from them. I believe as writers or artists, we need to take care of ourselves first, and we shouldn’t work on material we’re not ready to [touch]. I don’t believe in becoming tortured artists to create art. When working on this manuscript, I made sure to find a good balance [to not] retraumatize myself. I didn’t rush the work, I took the time I needed for self-care, and I gave myself the freedom to stop writing whenever it felt triggering or harmful.

You reflect on your name, Coral, and its metaphor, both as a daughter of the ocean and as something that survives the harshest conditions. Can you talk more about this role of resilience in your writing and personal life?

I think as a Puerto Rican Latina woman living in the U.S., resilience is the norm. The only way of surviving difficult experiences of colonization, emigration and natural disasters is by leaning into our internal strength and communities. Writing has been essential to my wellness and resilience. As I mentioned, journaling is my main writing practice and the way I process life. This private form of writing helps me to deconstruct ideas that don’t serve me and create new narratives for myself and my life. On the other hand, when I work on literary pieces or pieces that are meant to be shared, I lean into my truths. From that space of vulnerability and authenticity, I try to connect with others. The biggest gift writing has provided me is community. 

What other books is your memoir in conversation with?

My memoir is a conversation mostly with Puerto Rican writers from the island and the diaspora, but there are themes that are universal in the Latine experience as well. In terms of form and certain topics, several readers have mentioned the book reminds them of “In the Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado, “The House on Mango Street” by Sandra Cisneros and “Tias and Primas” by Prisca Dorcas Mojica Rodríguez

“Women Surrounded by Water” is available in D.C. bookstores at Politics and Prose and Kramers. It can also be purchased online at Ohio State University Press and Bookshop.org. 

Stay connected with Patricia Coral through her website and Instagram.

Ofelia Montelongo is a bilingual writer from Mexico with an MBA in strategic leadership & an MA in Latin American literature. Her work has been published in The Rumpus, Latino Book Review, Los Acentos Review and elsewhere, and she was the editor of the Latine Monsters issue at Barrelhouse. Montelongo currently teaches at the University of Maryland and is a board member of The Writer’s Center, a PEN/Faulkner writer in residence, a Macondista and a PEN America Emerging Voices fellow. She is also a Tin House, VONA, Key West Seminar alumna.

– Story by Ofelia Montelongo

– Edited by Michelle Benitez