Considered a representative figure of the post-1970s Chinese poets, Yu Xiang is part of a new generation of contemporary Chinese poets following in the footsteps of the "Obscure" (otherwise known as "Misty") poets and the post-"Obscure" writers. If identification is indeed a shadow act of figuration, Yu Xiang does not care for any post-age or post-modern label. Her response toward specific social or political realities in China during these recent years differ from her predecessors' during their respective epochs, in the sense that she does not necessarily depict them from an oblique stance. She does not merely dwell in ambiguities, contradictions and ambivalence. Nor does she present her work as a purely journalistic understanding of the impoverished villagers, traumatized mothers who lost children during the collapse of "tofu-skin" schools during the 2008 Sichuan earthquake. Instead, she depicts characters with a comparative eye—not just as a witness—but also from the starting point of having "felt a feeling," an epiphany. Unafraid of going near politically radioactive realities and histories, Yu Xiang is least interested in scoring ideological points, or telling "her" side of a narrative, be it as an artist or a social critic. At first read, each of Yu Xiang's poems comes across as an intimate address with a personal touch. Through poetry, she seeks a specific reader and listener, while being a reader and listener herself. She is interested in peeling silence with verses. Fiona Sze-Lorrain writes and translates in French, English, and Chinese. Her recent translation work includes Wind Says (Zephyr Press)—collected poems of Bai Hua. "Yu Xiang’s poems are the poetic equivalent of shoegazer rock. She takes the mundane—a whiff of cigarette smoke, a falling leaf, a housefly—and stares at it so intently that it splits open to reveal something unexpected." — Naomi Long Eagleson, wordswithoutborders.org
Yu Xiang's voice is somehow magnetic, funny, pointed, and vulnerable, as much as it is mundane. This is not to say that her poetry is boring (au contraire!), but after sinking into Bei Dao's ultra esoteric The August Sleepwalker, I have to say this is bland-core. And I dig it. What is it about blandness--with a touch of weird melancholy and gentle resignation--that I like so much? Yu Xiang's lines are bland, yes, and also discerning; her lens is so dry, at times, focused on just an object, a movement, it can be clinical. But I gain a sense of scale in her poems--that is, they feel spacious in the way that a small room with very little furniture and an open window imparts everything with significance, making the emptiness, and silences, feel bigger, tender, and honest.
Street
Talk about the street, at vendor stalls we drink beer, peel edamame Peel open the summer tagging behind Like luscious fruit, it ripens overnight and rots. In summer
peel open the past tagging behind and those dark readings A simple love We dress simply, love simply so simply that we fall in love once we meet
Love someone anyone, bring their sorrows to the street
Honestly, I'm probably not the best person to review this as I don't tend to "get" poetry. I was left questioning how many of these poems I didn't understand and how many were just translated a bit too abstractly. It was worse for me towards the end of the collection but I don't know if I was just running of patience with it. I do think it would have been helpful to have more context or at least footnotes for some of the later poems which reference very specific things (like natural disasters) and don't feel as resonant without any context. With the better poems, I did feel a sense of cadence and flow even if it was free verse and there were a few lovely phrases or evocative images but also a lot of pretentious word choices. It was like looking for meaning in the universe by deciphering shapes in clouds. I didn't loathe the experience (for the most part) but I don't think I derived much meaning from it.
I gave it four stars simply because I admit to not knowing any poetry, and that I if I were able to read the original Chinese, it may have been more expansive (that being said, the translation was fantastic and did a wonderful job of conveying every word and meaning thoughtfully).
From personal to wordly, the poems are highly introspective; as the forward says that Xiang Yu finds words in mundane, and every day life is detailed to a greater thought or concept. Overall, they're lovely poems and worth the read.
There's nothing like an immersive poetry collection to get me back into the habit of reading. Xiang's style fits well into the niche of poetry I like the best, this sort of surreal or dark abstract approach to large reoccurring themes. I'm also a huge fan of collections that include the original text as well as the translated pieces. Carson's Sappho collection also comes to mind when thinking about this layout choice. All in all, a great quick read for modern poetry fans.