R.I.P. to The Beast

A eulogy for Jim "The Beast" Marquez

Jim being his usual ham-self at Mi Vida in Highland Park for a reading of Lowriting

I just wanted to give some recognition to a Chicano writer who passed away recently; his name was Jim Marquez and he was from Los Angeles, California. His nickname was “the beast.” I knew Jim, albeit briefly, in real life and I also published some of his work in both Lowriting and ¡Ban This!, so if you’ve read either of those then you know Jim as well.

It’s kind of trippy to have just celebrated Lowriting’s 8th anniversary and then to hear of this news. But life is like that sometimes, bittersweet.

According to his obituary, Jim passed away on November 30th, 2021. I only found out because another friend let me know through the grapevine. From what I gather from his Facebook posts, Jim moved to Paris in 2019. In November 2021 he became seriously ill and did not recover.

I did not know Jim very well; it would be insulting to say that I did. I had a bunch of conversations with him through e-mail about his writing and I met him once in person, when I visited L.A., to promote ¡Ban This!.

Jim was, well, every bit like his nickname, a beast. From what little I knew of him, he was a wild dude. He wrote about wild times in Los and he lived every bit of it. He committed all of that experience to the page and got off doing so. I dug his work because it was gritty, raw, vulgar and real - we had that in common. Jim wrote about what he knew and what he experienced and to read it was to experience it with him, warts and all; visceral and exposed and if it made you uncomfortable, all the better.

He never pulled any punches and always spoke his mind, even when it rubbed people the wrong way. Especially when it rubbed people the wrong way. That’s the other thing I liked about Jim; he didn’t give a fuck what people thought about him and he reveled in rubbing people the wrong way with his writing. He was pleased as punch to be in ¡Ban This! and Lowriting, especially when we received some press attention. He was like a big kid.

The Beast being interviewed by 89.3 KPCC for the ¡Ban This! event at Cypress Park Library

So why write this? Especially if I hardy knew him? Well, for one because I know no one else will. That’s the cold, hard truth.

That’s the thing with us Chicano creative types who have not and will not “break through” to the mainstream. No one is going to remember us, certainly not anyone outside of our circles.

Jim is not going to get a write up in the L.A. Times etc. about being a prolific Chicano writer from Los. Most people outside of his circle have probably never heard of him, despite him writing for 30 years of his life. This is the travesty of being an independent and no holds barred Chicano writer.

We are unsung, and so it is up to us to honor and remember our own. As I wrote about in my other post, Lowriting and ¡Ban This! were special books. The writers within them had a special bond with each other. We took on the world with both books and made our mark. Jim was part of both of those books and for that he deserves some recognition. If not me, who?

I can only hope that when I pass, that someone remembers me, my work. My words. That’s really all we as writers want: immortality. That’s not too much to ask is it?

I know for a fact that Jim would dig people remembering his name and his work - he was prolific. I also know he’d be surprised it’s me eulogizing hm. We have to do better as a community to memorialize our own, even if we don’t always get along. It’s important, especially for future generations.

The Beast at Cypress Park Library for Ban This!

The one time I met Jim in person was after a reading for ¡Ban This! at Cypress Park Library in L.A. He stayed after the show and we bullshitted for a while about life and being a Chicano writer, and also about being a fuck-up, we had that in common too. And then he hit me up for a ride.

I’d rented a car, as I normally do when I travel, and said sure. He wanted me to take him to some seedy dive bar, because of course he did. He invited me to go with him but I declined because I never drink when I travel. I dropped him off and that was the last time I saw him. I go back and forth on if I should have joined him or not.

Jim was true to his form in that he was constantly chasing the dream: to live the fabled life of a writer on the edge, traveling, chasing women, booze, good times/bad times and the next meal…and constantly racking up crazy experiences to write about. I lived that life for a while and it’s extremely taxing on your body and your mind. Jim knew this.

I believe we had a falling out a few years back though I can’t remember what it was about, but it was probably over something stupid. I had a falling out with several people from both book projects over the years - hey, it happens. Mainly because many people believed that I could bring them to the “next level” and in that regard I failed most. For others it was just that the “high” of being published wears off after a while and then you start looking at each other like real people again…and we don’t always get along. Es la vida.

The Beast reading his story from Lowriting at Mi Vida in Highland Park.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I talked to Jim. He was a strange guy, a nice guy, but an odd guy nonetheless. I can’t say that I was surprised to see he’d uprooted himself and moved to Paris. All Jim ever wanted was literary acceptance and recognition; it’s what all of us want and so few achieve. A writer’s life is mostly hard times.

Like Jim, I uprooted myself from everything I knew and sought acceptance elsewhere, as a stranger in a strange land; so I know his journey well and relate to it as a Chicano and as a struggling writer.

I have one of his books on my shelf. It’s good - vulgar and raw - just like the beast. He gave me a shoutout in the acknowledgements and for that I am grateful. And I have Jim in both of my anthologies, where he is immortalized. His chili dog story about Original Tommy’s in Rampart in Lowriting is one of my favorites - check it out if you haven’t.

Jim liked to compare himself to Bukowski but he always reminded me more of Oscar Zeta Acosta; wild, unrefined and totally fucking unique. Jim lived for the ride. He died way too young and it sucks that when Chicano writers pass, most don’t notice.

Let’s do better and be better stewards of our community and our legacy. If we don’t do it, no one will. Here’s to The Beast. Rest in Piece, Jim.

• S/C

You can visit Jim’s Lulu store here and buy his books.