Against the backdrop of the war on drugs and the 1992 Los Angeles Riots, a Korean girl comes of age in her parents' bodega in the Queensbridge projects, offering a singular perspective on our nation of immigrants and the tensions pulsing in the margins where they live and work.
In Su Hwang's rich lyrical and narrative poetics, the bodega and its surrounding neighborhoods are cast not as mere setting, but as an ecosystem of human interactions where a dollar passed from one stranger to another is an act of peaceful revolution, and desperate acts of violence are "the price / of doing business in the projects where we / were trapped inside human cages--binding us / in a strange circus where atoms of haves / and have-nots always forcefully collide." These poems also reveal stark contrasts in the domestic lives of immigrants, as the speaker's own family must navigate the many personal, cultural, and generational chasms that arise from having to assume a hyphenated identity--lending a voice to the traumatic toll invisibility, assimilation, and sacrifice take on so many pursuing the American Dream.
"We each suffer alone in / tandem," Hwang declares, but in Bodega, she has written an antidote to this solitary hurt--an incisive poetic debut that acknowledges and gives shape to anguish as much as it cherishes human life, suggesting frameworks for how we might collectively move forward with awareness and compassion.
This collection follows the poet as she comes of age in the 1980s and 1990s as a Korean immigrant in New York City. Arguably centered around her family's bodega and its evolution as the poet evolved as well I found this collection to be interesting at providing slice of life poetry while also diving deeper into systemic issues. I really liked the poetic structure of these poems and found the language to be really engaging. I also feel like I learned a lot while reading these poems, not just on Su Hwang's experiences in life and personal connections with others but also the vocabulary used in these poems. I'm not ashamed to admit there were a lot of words and things mentioned that I needed to look up to get a better understanding of. Yet, I didn't feel like this detracted from the reading experience, but rather reminded me of the joy of learning new things outside the bubble of my own knowledge!
An excellent and sublimely written narrative in exquisitely moving style of quality and passion professing a need to join in the chanting in the name of sufferer's liberty to break the carapace of its existence and tell his or her tale lyrically moving like a song.
Un recit merveilleux et ecrit de facon sublime dans un style de qualite exquisement touchant et de passion qui nous fait joindre au besoin aux chants de ceux qui souffrent au nom de leur liberte afin de briser la carapace de leur existence et dire leur histoire. Lyriquement emouvant comme un poeme
the last poem in the collection brought me to the brink of tears, every other poem culminating to that moment. Hwang writes with sincerity and depth on the pivotal moments of her personal life, the mundane, and the complex shared experiences of Asian immigrant communities.
i also like how much Hwang played with structure in her free verse writing — such variety! she’s exploratory, contemplative, and intentionally patient with every page to guide readers through a truly beautiful collection.
also i love milkweed publishing and paying homage to local writers.
I very much enjoyed Bodega by Su Hwang. This delightful and vivid collection of poems was fun and interesting to read, while serving as an authentic perspective into the immigrant experience.
What Hwang excels at most, in my opinion, is the beautiful and descriptive voice she uses to immerse you into an environment. In poems like Corner Store Still Life, Projects NYC, 1989, and the titular poem Bodega, Hwang paints such a visceral and tangible picture that I felt as if I could close my eyes and hear the noises she described around me.
In poems like Hopscotch and Latchkeys, Hwang delivers another form of transportation in that I felt transported back in time to my own childhood. Running to look responsible when your parents come home, playing outside and dreaming of fairy dust and towers, I felt my youth in these poems, colorful, vibrant, and beautiful.
Occasionally some lines would feel wordy or I wouldn’t grasp the meaning of a few sentences, but overall Bodega was an excellent, creative debut. I would recommend Bodega to any of my friends who enjoy poetry.
Received this DRC in exchange for an honest review.
This was a brilliant collection that explored identity in the immigrant experience, but also just in trying to understand humanity in the context of legacy, mundane reality, and the ways in which we try to find ourselves in the middle of a host of complexities. Su Hwang is an amazing artist and I can't wait to read the next collection.
I found the poems about her life experiences interesting and enjoyed the imagery in many of the poems. There were others where the meaning wasn’t as clear to me but the sound of the words and their cadence were like music.
I had mixed feelings about this collection. There were many poems that I simply couldn't connect to, style- or content-wise, but there were others that had lines so perfect they stopped me in my tracks. I think the poems about family were the strongest ones for me. Here's the ending of "Cancer" for an example:
"They had just taken out his kidney: the half. Life of / failure. Suddenly he opened his eyes, looked straight into me, // and said, I know you. You have a frontier spirit. Where did he even / get that word: frontier. We nodded in agreement, then ate in // silence like we always do, losing our nerve. All I've ever wanted / him to say is: Tell me something. Tell me--everything."
Wonderful.
A few other standout poems: "Eomma," "Conjure: Daughter," "The Price of Rice"
Su Hwang's book Bodega, highlights immigrant life in New York. The text mainly focuses through the lens of her family, a Korean immigrant family. She uses different stanza forms to concisely create a vivid scene, enhance flow, bring harmony, and enhance subject matter.
One example is in her poem, “Sestina of Koreatown Burning: LA Riots, 1992; after Patricia Smith”. In this poem, we are given a scene during the L.A. riots. Because of this sestina, Hwang is able to show us, “weepy palm trees set aflame against / raging stenciled ghosts. Mutinies filmed live / from helicopters soaring above shattered / bodies hurled to the ground” (52). A sestina paints a story and ends it with a final tercet bringing the whole poem to a close. “[Black neighbors stood against / our store entrance to prevent glass /] from breaking. A chain of fists to shatter: / not all Black and Korean lives were against / each other—grounded amid webbed glass” (53). With Hwang using a sestina, her ending tercet redirects the narrative that our white society has portrayed in media, the Asian community versus the Black community during the riots.
Poetry forms are helpful in creating vivid scenes for readers and helping guide the story along. Hwang does that and more. Her collection is filled with sestinas, tercets and couplets, and many other poetry forms. With this in her collection, she gives readers vivid images of her life, her expectations, and very prominent events in history, all through the lens of an immigrant family.
In Su Hwang’s debut, Bodega, a young speaker comes of age among inscrutable adults by watching them navigate language, race, culture, and class. The bodega serves as backdrop; it also serves as a metaphor for the collection: a single site packed with necessities; a site where humans of all stripes intersect, revealing in their intersections both awful and affirming aspects of humanity.
We learn early on that the speaker’s family of Korean immigrants works in a bodega in Queensbridge projects in the late 1980s, but the book opens with “Instant Scratch Off,” a poem set in a bodega run by a Puerto Rican cashier. The “transistor radio / with foil-tipped antennae sputters the Yankee / doubleheader” and the patter of the announcer (“swwwwwwwing and miss!”) sets the pace for the comfortable action in the store, where Nigerian and Pakistani customers select cat food and scratch cards for purchase. Men from three nations, none of them Korea, come together, and this sets the stage for Hwang’s project.
Not only is Hwang interested in the Korea-to-America experience, but she wishes to investigate clashes and commonalities among immigrants....complete review here: https://rhinopoetry.org/reviews/bodeg...
Hwang transports you to various locations (such as the bodega) and memories (such as from childhood) in many of these poems, with vivid and lyrical writing that works the imagination and will tug at your heartstrings. I resonated deeply with quite a few of these poems, and the way she word-painted impressions of these day-to-day moments (from the mundane to the racially charged events) felt very reminiscent of my own life. I particularly loved the poems that reflected on her immigrant parents and the impact of being the child of immigrants.
Each section had a life of its own that, to some extent, read as though they could be standalone collections. However, the overarching themes kept the flow going. I found the first two sections to be the strongest while the third was a little harder to get into, but there were some standouts.
And somewhat of an aside, but the letter written in Korean to her parents at the start was incredibly moving. It really set the tone for this collection, at least for me.
Some favorites: “Instant Scratch Off,” “Latchkeys,” “Eomma,” “Show Me Where It Hurts,” “Fresh Off the Boat | Five Sonnets,” “Bodega,” “The Price of Rice,” “Cancer,” and “Saranghaeyo” Read for the Sealey Challenge.
When my mother cries, Hey Zeus! it cues him to resume sweeping. I giggle picturing the Greek god of marble, muscle & thunder. His eyes remain lowered when I ask where he was born, where he calls home, as my legs swing below the counter—the store totally free of customers. He bridles, suddenly in my crosshairs: visible. Mere sliver of a man.
Tells me in broken English that he walked a long way, across many borders (I’m just a child, couldn’t possibly fathom). He misses his mother—smuggled in clutching her picture. It’s been a dozen years but knows she is still alive from signed trails of Western Union receipts. He sends her everything, works two other menial jobs, lives with several migrant men in Harlem.
Watching him sweep, I peer over at my mother whose shoulders are hunched stocking shelf after shelf—wasting away within a five-foot radius, but our distance seems to span an ocean. I never ask any real questions, she never tells me more than I need to know—having built impenetrable barriers. Inadvertently locked in a vow of silence, there is no arguing,
An extremely engaging collection which centers on longing/loss, invisibility, trauma and other experiences of urban & suburban immigrants in the U.S., especially (but not limited to) the poet's Korean kin. I loved poems following certain forms (like the stealth Abecedarian of "Graveyard Shift") as much as I loved others like "Cancer"--an aching lament for what gets lost between generations. The book bears rereading, as it is rich and full of phrases one can linger with, e.g. "opal bone fields where/ spring's bounty bursts unshut..." or "how could I have known language is lost when left to rot like a pest".
This is a beautiful collection of poems by Su Hwang. I immediately sensed a playfulness about this collection, despite the often heavy subject matter in the poems. Su Hwang experiments in form and plays with words in such a wonderful way. It's delightful. I had the pleasure of speaking to Su Hwang and hearing her process of writing this collection- she wrote these poems as a student, so the playfulness and experimentation of the form makes a lot of sense. I think this collection would be absolutely fantastic as a primer in a poetry class.
I was picking up some holds from the library and decided to go to the poetry section and grab a random book, whatever jumped out at me. I picked this one up. I guess I liked the way the title looked on the cover.
Coincidentally, Su is a local writer. The poems here are great. A wide variety of scenes- immigrant family experience, shop owner, New York city. I don't enough about poetry to explain the nuance of the more abstract poems I just now I liked them.
This book had brilliant imagery and tackled issues I don’t really ever think about. Talking about a korean woman’s childhood growing up with her parents owning a bodega. Really solidified the idea of how dire it is for immigrants to want to assimilate into a white washed world and how unattainable that is. Really enjoyed this one, gave it a 4 because I think some poems fell flat and the movement through the page always feels a bit gimmicky. Other than that I loved this book!
I loved this collection of poems. Through vivid imagery, it captures life as a young immigrant woman along with all of the unspoken silences and traumas lived by her parents and the marginalized communities in which they make their home and set up shop.
To read Bodega is to be reminded of the complexities of human experience. It is a reminder to open your eyes to the magic of memory and existence, and above all, to read Bodega is a reminder that “We make / our own/ ends.”
Poems about growing up as a poor immigrant in the USA, a Korean-American child of Korean parents who ran a convenience store in the Bay Area. Lovely, chewy, sad, beautiful.
Fantastic poetry from a fantastic individual (and dog sitter!) Lyrical, heart-breaking and inspiring a words that came to mind while reading this. Can see why this won a Minnesota Book Award!