At its heart, Rosanna Young Oh’s debut collection of poems, The Corrected Version, is an immigrant narrative that ponders what it means to be an American. Who or what do we leave behind when we move to a new country? Who or what do we take with us? Traveling through Korean folklore, paintings, Long Island, a family grocery store, and Buddhism, the book meditates on the process of making meaning out of the lives we create for ourselves—a task that has the speaker relentlessly questioning, investigating, erasing, and rewriting the stories she ultimately chooses to inherit as her own. A book about survival, it is also a journey made gentle by moments of love and compassion.
I had the humbling honor of taking a poetry writing seminar with Rosanna Oh when I was in college. I have been eagerly awaiting the release of her first collection for 15 years now. It’s even more exquisite than anticipated.
My friends, if you have ever even passingly thought of yourself as someone who likes poems, you simply MUST read this book.
Rosanna Oh's "The Corrected Version" is a masterful debut collection that leaves an indelible impression in the edges of one's mind long after they have turned the last page. Oh is particularly skilled at crafting co-existing realities that seem at odds with each other at first, but she deftly weaves them into a richly-layered, modern narrative that challenges the reader to understand the complexity (and beauty) of having to inhabit and navigate these worlds daily.
I very much enjoyed the richness of Oh's worlds -- they are expansive and boundless, yet achingly intimate. We are drawn into folktales of mythic proportions (both Eastern and Western) against snow-capped hills in one instant, and are seamlessly and concretely brought down to earth with bruised fruit on a countertop in the next.
As a third culture individual and Asian immigrant, I found Oh's collection comforting and a joy to read. Her voice is unflinching, true and clear -- I highly recommend this brilliant collection and look forward to her future works.
Insightful poems on life as the daughter of a Korean grocer. The hard-scrabble physicality of making money and aging relatives shot thru with traditional Korean and Buddhist beliefs and rituals. The pleasure is in the story telling and character details; the author does not work miracles with language.
these all seem to be prose poems even if arranged in stanzas.
If I were to be uncharitable I could say that this is yet another work of the ‘identity’ genre that academia prioritizes so highly now. But the author is speaking of her life and of what she knows and doesn’t seem inauthentic, though some pieces are clearly labored over and intentional.
An exciting exploration of how family, myth, and art align with and oppose each other in the formation of one poet's personal identity. There are many strong moments across the collection, but the closing poem is particularly superb.
DISCLOSURE: the author is my friend. DISCLOSURE DISCLOSURE: the author is still talented anyway.
While there were some really beautiful meditations and insights I thought the author did a great job expressing in this collection, as a whole I thought it could have been more cohesive. Or less cohesive, in a way that felt wholly intentional. I found some sections felt a bit disconnected. But when it did connect, I could clearly see the talent and vulnerability the author brought to this book.
This is a powerful collection of poems! Rosanna writes with such emotion. I love that we get a glimpse into her upbringing - she so freely tells her story of growing up as a grocer's daughter, and how that's shaped who she is today.