Winner of the 2018 Yale Series of Younger Poets prize
“Weaves together descriptions of experiences of immigration as a Chinese-American and of racism, mental wellness, and gender from a queer and trans perspective.”— Publishers Weekly
How can a search for self‑knowledge reveal art as a site of community? Yanyi’s arresting and straightforward poems weave experiences of immigration as a Chinese American, of racism, of mental wellness, and of gender from a queer and trans perspective. Between the contrast of high lyric and direct prose poems, Yanyi invites the reader to consider how to speak with multiple identities through trauma, transition, and ordinary life.
These poems constitute an artifact of a groundbreaking and original author whose work reflects a long journey self‑guided through tarot, therapy, and the arts. Foregrounding the power of friendship, Yanyi’s poems converse with friends as much as with artists both living and dead, from Agnes Martin to Maggie Nelson to Robin Coste Lewis. This instructive collection gives voice to the multifaceted humanity within all of us and inspires attention, clarity, and hope through art-making and community.
Yanyi is the author of Dream of the Divided Field (One World) and The Year of Blue Water (Yale University Press 2019), winner of the 2018 Yale Series of Younger Poets Prize. His work has been featured in or at NPR’s All Things Considered, New York Public Library, Granta, and New England Review, and he is the recipient of fellowships from Asian American Writers’ Workshop and Poets House. He holds an MFA in Poetry from New York University and was most recently poetry editor at Foundry. Currently, he teaches creative writing at large and gives writing advice at The Reading.
Sometimes when I'm reading something that is really good I have to stop and rub my hands together to release energy or excitement. I found myself doing that often while reading Yanyi's work. I find myself feeling protective over this book, because I like that it's all prose. My thoughts are scattered but 1. The book feels cozy, it would be really nice to read on a cold day with some tea. 2. The way Yanyi thinks about relationships, love, friendship, even gender seems really similar to the way I do. This collection of poems reminds me that I'm not alone. So many lines took my breath away.
"The revolution is that I care about my own safety, and I believe my life is valuable and worth pursuing."
"I am proud to trust you, despite the pain of trusting that lives in me every day. In every way, I was raised to kill this: the impulse to build and protect a place where you and I can live as ourselves."
"you were raised to be connected to someone else on this earth."
the year of blue water mulls over a lot of beautiful and heartbreaking ideas about art, gender, desire, etc.—this rating is largely a matter of personal taste. i found very little to latch onto in the way of language/form and that's probably due to the fact that this is almost entirely prose poetry in bite-size diary entry form. if that's your thing, give this a try!
i'm not really sure how to review this, because my understanding of poetry is limited to "does it make me feel insane?" and a lot of these felt more like diary entries than poems. that said. they did make me go insane yeah.
What I also mean to say is that I recognize the focus. The impulse to know someone else before you reveal yourself. The impulse to know someone else because otherwise, you do not know yourself. The impulse to know someone else because you are self-conscious of your whole self, the one that fills up too many rooms, so much space. The impulse to hide how much space you need. The impulse to hide what you need.
reread this for a class project and i am never in my LIFE going to get over "my mother tells me something. has she been lonely? there was so much i couldn't see as a child. and then it was too much to try and save her, to help her feel better and feel a little less lonely. i felt like i failed at loving her. i felt like i failed at saving her from loneliness. as a kid, you can't know that this isn't your job. as a kid, you can't know that people you love can live and die for completely other reasons." gmfu
If you are looking for reading serene and moving prose poetry, grab this book. While I expected much more of this book, it lives up to much and stands out against the so called modern poetry I despise - the kind that consists of instapoets. Yanyi uses words economically, and this is a writing style I have not seen often - which makes me love it even more.
Its a very genuine attempt. I appreciate the different approach to explaining a dream in a poetic yet prose form. But when one says poetry, I expect haiku, Limerick, ode etc. This was a good prose written with a poetic touch. Hence I am disappointed.
There are places I can’t go, like outside my body.
absolutely appalled that no one has thought to make me read this before now. read once, then read the introduction and read a second time; this was the correct way to do it i think.
Title: The Year of Blue Water Genre: Poetry Rating: Five stars
I don't really like poetry - I have made that extremely clear during my time here on earth. But I loved this collection. It was just such a human book. It was relatable, even though I couldn't relate to certain topics, and so extremely honest. My book is covered with highlights. I think it's an important book to read and it's a comforting book to read. It's about friendship and self-identity and coming to terms with who you are. It's about love. I think everyone should read this at some point in their life, and I think everyone is going to need this book at some point. And it's prose poetry, so it's pretty straightforward and easy to understand, but still so profound. Highly recommend, even if you don't like poetry.
You tell me that the old you is dead. I am also not who I used to be. The revolution is emotional. I found a reason to not fear death. I found more reasons to live, reasons to change what is living inside me and around me. The revolution is that I care about my own safety, that I believe my life is valuable and worth pursuing. As in, I am worth the work of transformations. As in, I do not fear how I will emerge from myself, or how many times.
-i share so many thoughts with the author it scares me and excites me and gives me closure abt a lot of personal things that i have thought but never told anyone -im gonna buy this book so i can keep it close to me!!
edit: - i finally bought this book! and it is still relatable - i like how clear and still the writing is - there are lots of great one liners but im not sure if it's as beautiful as i thought it was (4 STARS)
If Goodreads allowed half stars, "The Year of Blue Water" would be a 3.5. Because the collection contains multitudes - multitudes so great, they demand fervor. Yet Yanyi opts instead, in most of the prose-like poems, for plainness. Plainness that frustrates, plainness that leaves you wanting, especially when you encounter the standout moments, the moments where "the tongue splits for what it wants" and a sharpness takes hold that engrosses every part of you. For instance here:
"In the dream, you are helpless yet powerful. You will stay because you want to stay: among magnolias dipped with the weight of themselves, the weight of their buds. Among slushed ice roads you can walk on without help. You can love but don't need to love. it is night but a bright orange candle lights the world.
At the end of the dream, you will reach this person. They will have been waiting for you and you will not be hungry, you will have eaten the magnolias, the candlelight, the roads (...) They tell you and their eyes are gleaming in the orange candle, seeming filled with tears with no need to shed them."
These moments of delicate intimacy, of soft desire, of candlelight and magnolias, are moments written with such beautiful imagery they at once make you feel safe and take your breath away. They are moments that make you want more - but the remaing diary-like entries cannot satisfy, and so you are left wanting.
On a personal note, to all those who struggle with gender identity like I myself have and do, there is an entry about pronouns and womanhood in "The Year of Blue Water" that on it's own already justifies buying it. Know this: You are worth being seen, you are worth being known.
“When did I become repulsive? Repulsion is a feeling that you can direct to your own body. But someone has to teach you first.”
I was saving this book for a night when I needed it, and I am so grateful that I waited. Yanyi’s work left me breathless, speechless, and contemplative. There’s a fragility under his writing that encompasses the tumultuous nature of having a body, one that is frustrating but that we can learn to honor. He writes with such sharp clarity about how to learn to name who we are by practicing a process of un-knowing the selves that we have constructed.
What I adhered to most in Yanyi's collection is this notion that repulsion and otherness is taught: "I was never unique; I was just made to feel that way." This recognition of taught patterns complicates the speaker's hurt. Instead of blaming his mother or childhood encounters, the speaker is empathetic knowing hate isn't purely inherent. That's strength. That's mighty painful too.
I wonder then how the name dropping of poets, writers, and artists functions in the speaker's learning/unlearning. Perhaps I longed for more explicit renderings of this unlearning in ways that didn't feel like unmined name dropping. I know I'm not in a place to demand more from the poet, but I wanted more. Being explicitly told the emotion in some anecdotes drew me out of the poetry. While the cinematic pieces brought me intimately close in an effective way. Regardless, my copy has a wave of dogearred pages marking resonance here and there. I think the book as a whole succeeds in capturing the healing love of chosen family and endless questioning of the poetic artform. "Invitation, invocation, request."
I am not a poetry person. I enjoy poetry, but I am not good at analyzing, nor do I usually like to. I've had to read this book for class twice now, and each time, I appreciate the writing and what Yanyi has to say, but more than that, I have little else to say. But some of the poems, especially the ones on anxiety, really got me. 3.5/5 stars.
i finished this in one sitting but getting through the foreword took me so long. i appreciate what yanyi does here. within this project there are some real good gems. some resonate, some don’t. but i think that’s to be expected in a poetry collection. glad i read this
*I received an ARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thanks for the free book.*
Yanyi is a young trans*-poet at New York University. This very short mix of poetry and prose is his first book. It deals with sexuality, mental health, identity struggles, family and coming out / living with oneself as a trans*-person.
I personally enjoyed parts of it a lot, other parts were a bit too enigmatic for me. But as I am not a trans*-person, I may lack knowledge. It was very well written, a beautiful use of language. Some poems were very sad, others were more hopeful.
I wish the young author and winner of the 2018 Yale Series of Younger Poets prize all the best.
"For a long time, I was attached to she/her as my pronouns, even when I was nonbinary. They didn't seem as sharp as I wanted it to be. And I like precision. Diana tells me that to be trans or nonbinary is not be a woman but to be of women. That seems a more useful gesture. I never want to disappear unequivocally into masculinity. Womanhood is the country I come from, a home I reach back for to reproduce, recreate, replenish."
I received a Netgalley uncorrected proof of this book. I'm going to read it again in print after it releases, which may result in me bumping it up another star. From what I could tell, the book is made up mostly of prose poems, but because of the way it was formatted, it was hard to tell where one began and ended. There were only a couple of titled poems. The language was lovely and the themes being explored (transness, queerness, mental health, race, friendship, family, poetry) were important and written compellingly, but I was shocked at how quickly I read through the text, and I found myself wanting more. Again, this could be a formatting issue, as there was no white space in this edition. It read as one long (paragraphed) text block. It reminded me somewhat of Maggie Nelson's Bluets and The Argonauts in the best ways, and Yanyi references both texts. I'm looking forward to rereading this when it is out in print.
"then, what is so unnatural to me: to believe that what i can't control will be kind to me. when you walk away from me, i hear you saying that you will always be with me. when i wake up. i hear you telling me it's okay. things eventually happen. it's not always true that when someone disappears, they never come back, even if that has been my experience."
this book was very eye opening, heart opening, to the life and struggles of someone who is transgender. but also of the greatness their life can be even amidst it all once they find that comfort and ability to show themselves, sometimes losses will exist, but it will also show you who cares about you for you, who accepts you as you are and not what they choose to view you as just because it may be what they had previously known. everyone has a right to present as they know they're meant to and not uphold others expectations that will only damage them.
i never remember to leave reviews on books that i read for classes, which is bad because that’s most of the books i read nowadays.
reading the year of blue water is like having some guy look into your brain, make some humming noises, and then explain your own lived experiences back to you better than you ever could.
it’s also a very specific, very personal journey—yanyi relates his own experiences with family, gender, art, and The Immigrant Experience. the way he wrestles with issues and ultimately finds—if not answers, then rest—is both unique to him and deeply familiar to anyone who looks to art to guide them through their own lives. and throughout, yanyi emphasizes that art is inherently collaborative and that family is something we choose. it’s a very… heartening book.
i would recommend this to anyone who likes books that are good.
Written in a form of poetry, that I don't find very interested in: Prose form. If I knew it earlier, I would have stopped myself from requesting for this one. I also read about this one winning 2018 Yale Series of Younger Poets prize, which is another mystery for me.
This book is mostly written from the author's point of view, and felt like reading a memoir with touching social and hot topics like discussing mental illness, LGBTQ+ I could see that the author had some very sad and some topics touched me, but it wasn't a POETRY which for me is mostly about rhyming and putting across something lyrically which was missing in this one.
Thanks to Netgalley and publishers for providing the ecopy, in return of an honest review.
Thank you Yale University Press and Netgalley for this ARC.
I am new to reading this genre and was hoping this would be the book that turned me into a lover of poetry.
I found the book difficult to follow, with a seemingly short poem flowing straight into what felt like a short story. I’m not sure if it was the formatting on kindle or the style of the author but I found it confused and this really took me away from the content.
I’ll just copy what I wrote in my update because I’m at a loss of words and I just love, love, LOVE this work. and I’m gonna reread this again and again and take notes and ahhhhh
"...I really need a physical copy and take notes in it because oh my god. I kinda wanna cry but some pages hit TOO close to home. Like. The poetry shocks my tears out of existence? Srsly, what the-“
Note: (I only looked over the Foreword and it didn’t seem worth it because it just feels ... *off*)
“You tell me that the old you is dead. I am also not who I used to be. The revolution is emotional. I found a reason to not fear death. I found more reasons to live, reasons to change what is living inside me and around me. The revolution is that I care about my own safety, that I believe my life is valuable and worth pursuing. As in, I am worth the work of transformations. As in, I do not fear how I will emerge from myself, or how many times.”
This poetry book has a spin on it, different then most poetry books but I still enjoy it. I like the writing style and the messages that’s within these pages. It’s very personal, close to the writers heart. These words filled with heardness that made me feel sad, but also powerful by story writing in these prose and poetry.