Barter: Poems by Monica Youn

by Monica Youn

“Barter exchanges history for myth, direct speech for epistles, activity for observation . . . breathtaking.” —Claudia RankineFelix the Rat’s hind feetcould be Barbie hands— same pink, same injection-molded seaming.—from “Electronica”The poems in Barter, Monica Youn’s exciting first collection, negotiate transactions between scarcity and excess, pornography and abstraction, the thing and the thing seen. Rendered with a dazzling array of structures and allusions, these poems describe—and become—a strange gallery of paintings and portraits. She offers a Polaroid left on a windshield, step-by-step instructions for “Drawing for Absolute Beginners,” a stereoscope with a box of slides. Both an homage to and a warning against nonexistent things, Barter introduces a vibrant new voice and a new way of seeing.

Genres: Poetry

Paperback

First published January 1, 2003

Reviews

[Kate]

the good kind of uncomfortable

[Kelly]

I'm just not smart enough for Monica Youn, or perhaps I lack the patience. I did appreciate her notes as they helped me in my ignorance with some poems I found quite impenetrable. I'm kind of a simple gal when it comes to poetry though, and this was all a little abstract for me. There were a few poems I quite liked: "Derivation, or The Unexamined Life," "After Franz Kline," and "Labor Day." I would probably like/appreciate this collection more if I could talk to someone about it.... But I want my poetry to evoke an emotional response and most of these did not.

[Shira]

oddly underwhelmed bc i like her other work so much and this one just missed the mark for me

[Juli Anna]

Not as good as Ignatz, but there are still some gems. Youn is a very generous and fair poet--she uses every device in the book, tries on every poetic hat, and gets away with nearly all of them. Poems are incredibly varied in form and content. This definitely feels like a first book, but it's still a damn good one.

[Charlotte]

I really love this. I particuarly light the two Night Ferry to Naxos poems, and also this one:

Labor Day

A glass of tap water that tasted like bruise;
her bronze-stockinged feet overflowed her white shoes.

[Dawn]

eh and a double eh when I heard it live