Auction: Poems

by Quan Barry

Poems about the Freedom That Arises When We Finally Let Go 



In Auction, her first poetry collection in eight years, the poet, novelist, and playwright Quan Barry travels the globe in her signature quest into the existential nature of experience. These poems explore the inner landscapes of both the human and animal realms, revealing them to be points along the same spectrum. At the heart of the book lies an extended study of toxic storytelling as an element of warcraft, but Barry also contemplates the death of a Buddhist master, the plight of migrants both at home and abroad, the ethics of travel and consumption, and the larger question of how and why we construct a self in order to navigate the world.  

Genres: Poetry

91 pages, Kindle Edition

Published September 26, 2023

About the author

Born in Saigon and raised on Boston’s north shore, Quan Barry is a professor of English at the University of Wisconsin–Madison and the author of four poetry books; her third book, Water Puppets, won the AWP Donald Hall Prize for Poetry and was a PEN/Open Book finalist. She has received NEA Fellowships in both fiction and poetry, and her work has appeared in such publications as Ms. and The New Yorker. Barry lives in Wisconsin.

Reviews

[Carolyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another entry in my Rumpus poetry subscription. I was really surprised when I got this book as I had previously read Barry's novel "We Ride Upon Sticks" for one of the Tournament of Books (maybe two years ago?) and wasn't aware she also wrote poetry. (Apparently also plays!).

I tried to read this collection when it first arrived and really struggled with it, but I took it as my bus ride read on the way to see Percival Everett (!!) last night and I found myself completely engaged. I will say that the longer poems that use ellipses between stanzas (OTHER THAN Auction which I did love) were my least favorite--they were harder to follow and it felt like it took them longer to figure out what they wanted to say.

The middle section (The "Foreword" and the propaganda guide to an occupied land) I found completely tremendous. They're so short but so sharp.

These poems have a serious root in spirituality of various traditions--what does it mean to believe? how does your belief show up in your choices, your personal practices, your caring for others?); in greek mythology; in how we make space for others, and in how we handle the spaces we inhabit ourselves.

My favorites were:
"The Man on the TV in the Border Town Says He Feels Nothing for Them" (part 1 and part 2)
"5 Times out of 10, Love Is Not Enough"
"Refuge"
"Black Pastoral"

and also these last lines "Poem" about learning to breath underwater.
I but can't stop thinking about how it ends:

"and so I remember that summer moment in the lake
the way I kept going for one full minute, breathing in
these two contradictory elements, water and air, desperate
for the tiny piece of paper that would certify
I can do this, what we all do, day in, day out, living on

through the terrible wonder of what should be unlivable."

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

From "The Man on the TV in the Border Town Says He Feels Nothing for Them (Part 2)"

[...] Anger is the picking up
of a burning coal with the intent of hurling it
at the one you hate, said the Awakened One (28)

From "Rough Air"

Perhaps there is still something to be said
for travel. If we only extended our meaning of the word family,
we would all be home by now

(76)

[The_J · Rating 3 out of 5]

Refuge a decent take with the wrap being

Neither the here nor the there
Just This

[Jen Compan (Doucette) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I went to a poetry reading Quan Barry gave and bought this collection there. I really loved it. (Tired teacher brain can’t say much more, but I loved it)

[Nell Fleming · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not my cup of tea but I hear it's well written.

[Isaac Lambert · Rating 4 out of 5]

quietly powerful.

some of this didn't speak to me, but others resonated -- in their simplicity

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

"It makes sense to me.
I forced myself to know you
and now I cannot not know-
a forty-foot wave hungering for something
to break on."