Reviewed by: Materias dispuestas: Juan Villoro ante la crítica ed. by José Ruisánchez, Oswaldo Zavala Ramón Vinodh Venkatesh Ruisánchez, José Ramón y Oswaldo Zavala , eds. Materias dispuestas: Juan Villoro ante la crítica. Barcelona : Editorial Candaya , 2011 . 479 pp. A perusal of contemporary Mexican literature is incomplete without a studied stop at the work of Juan Villoro. Mexican by birth, but a world writer by trade, Villoro has made a name through timely chronicles, astute essays, and a labyrinthic narrative that encourages the reader to get lost in the pluriversal spaces of a diegetic and fragmented city. José Ramón Ruisánchez and Oswaldo Zavala call Villoro a malabarista, or juggler, as they unveil the many genealogies that the writer balances and combines in his narrative journey. They write how Villoro the malabarista represents “el mayor acto de liberación: la suerte inesperada, el somersault que sorprende en el instante de su aparición” (10). In a similar vein, Ruisánchez and Zavala must be congratulated for this opportune intervention, a perfectly executed somersault of the literary, as they compose a wide-angle snapshot of Villoro’s work and reception through a cogent and carefully selected series of reflections from his peers, cultural voices, and academic critics. The edited collection follows a critical trend to study and examine the work of contemporary Hispanic writers that in many cases are still producing for their avid audiences. We can, therefore, locate Materias dispuestas in a category of monographic criticism that has focused on such names as Roberto Bolaño, Ricardo Piglia, Juan Marsé, and Cristina Rivera Garza. The tome is divided into four distinct sections: a compilation of snippets and short pieces by Villoro’s contemporaries, including Bolaño, Javier Marías, Ignacio Padillo, Antonio Skármeta, Carlos Fuentes, and Martín Kohan; commentary from cultural critics such as Mihály Des, Federico Patán, and Chris Andrews; a critical section with incisive essays by the likes of Ignacio Sánchez Prado, Brian Price, Ryan Long, Tamara Williams, Sarah Pollack, and Irma Cantú; and a final section with texts by Villoro himself, as the juggler retakes the word to close out Ruisánchez and Zavala’s perfectly executed somersault. Prior to these porous sections is the editors’ introduction to the writer’s work, as they place his fictions and nonfictions within, outside, and in contact with multiple genealogies and literary/cultural lines of flight. Touching on broad themes extant in Villoro, such as the writing of the urban (experience), the articulation of gender, and the role of the intellectual in relation to the text, Ruisánchez and Zavala articulate a space for the author that transgresses traditional genealogies of a national literature. This process and product is important as the editors establish the significance and stature of the writer at hand, underlining his relevance to the student of all literatures. While they emphasize how Villoro “nos obliga a releer la tradición central de [End Page 286] la narrativa mexicana” (14), they equally highlight the points of contact between his narrative and figures of world literature, mindful of how “el buen malabarista [. . .] nunca lanza al aire piezas que no sabrá recuperar” (20). In what follows, the reader quickly realizes that Ruisánchez and Zavala are master jugglers, as the disparate voices compiled in Materias dispuestas all somehow come together and fit, creating a cogent epistemology for the meandering reader, much like that which is found in the fragmented and mutant city that is depicted in Villoro’s most commented novel that is cleverly included in the title of the anthology. Caveats from the first section of the edition place Villoro amongst his peers. Juan Antonio Masoliver Ródenas, for example, underlines the processes of creation in Villoro, forewarning the reader that at the poetic core lies “esta sensación de recorrer incesamente un texto para encontrarnos siempre en un espacio infinito” (61). More praise comes by means of Bolaño (who applauds the Mexican’s short stories), Marías, Alejandra Rossi (who calls Villoro a “escritor de raza” [83]), Fuentes, and Fabio Morabito. Des opens the second section with admiration of the author’s essays, commenting that...