Return Flight

by Jennifer Huang

Selected by Jos Charles as the winner of the 2021 Ballard Spahr Prize for Poetry, Return Flight is a lush reckoning: with inheritance, with body, with trauma, with desire―and with the many tendons in between.

When Return Flight asks “what name / do you crown yourself,” Huang answers with many. Textured with mountains―a folkloric goddess-prison, Yushan, mother, men, self―and peppered with shapeshifting creatures, spirits, and gods, the landscape of Jennifer Huang’s poems is at once mystical and fleshy, a “myth a mess of myself.” Sensuously, Huang depicts each of these not as things to claim but as topographies to behold and hold.

Here, too, is another kind of mythology. Set to the music of “beating hearts / through objects passed down,” the poems travel through generations―among Taiwan, China, and America―cataloging familial wounds and beloved stories. A grandfather’s smile shining through rain, baby bok choy in a child’s bowl, a slap felt decades later―the result is a map of a present-day life, reflected through the past.

Return Flight is a thrumming debut that teaches us how history harrows and heals, often with the same hand; how touch can mean “purple” and “blue” as much as it means intimacy; and how one might find a path toward joy not by leaving the past in the past, but by “[keeping a] hand on these memories, / to feel them to their ends.”

Genres: Poetry, Queer, LGBT, Womens, Asian American

96 pages, Paperback

First published January 18, 2022

Reviews

[Amy Imogene Reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

I stumbled across this volume randomly in a local independent bookshop—a precious gift, the role of indie shops in a reader’s ability for raw discovery—and was taken aback by this collection.

Contextualizing a Taiwanese-American upbringing, questions of family and generational baggage, and sense of self, return flight both resonated deeply with me and went over my head. I greatly appreciated the notes at the end—they explained some histories and cultural concepts that helped me appreciate some of the poems more deeply.

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[Alan (on December semi-hiatus) Teder · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poetry in Flight
Review of the Milkweed Editions paperback (January 2022)

How to Love a Rock

Notice the maroon cirrus clouds against
the gray of her landscape, then each white spot—
stars that propel you into space. Express
what you see in her, how you love the way

she smells like grass and salt. Ask about her
properties, history, how she was picked
from the glacial waters of Lake Crescent
and brought across the land to be placed

in your palms. Ask to feel her smooth. Caress
till your thumb can find a home in her brook.
Be with her and share your day, how you jumped
into a river, came out ice. How you

worry now, let it go. Give her space to
say not words; then, when she’s ready, many.

There was much joy in life, nature, food and family to love in this first collection by American poet Jennifer Huang who is on Taiwanese heritage. Several of the poems relate to her travels to Taiwan to understand her roots and these had the greatest resonance for me due to my own 'child of immigrants' background. But the nature poems about walks, rocks, creeks and those of the appreciation of food and taste such as Notes on Orange and song of chou doufu all had unique perspectives which sang with their own beauty.

There is a generous 5 page series of Notes on the poems giving the background on the Taiwanese and/or Chinese cultural references. Return Flight was the 10th winner of the Ballard Spahr Prize for Poetry, previously the Lindquist and Vennum Prize for Poetry, established in 2011.


Staff Pick blurb for 'Return Flight' from Shakespeare and Company, Paris. Image sourced from Twitter.

I read Return Flight through its inclusion in the 2022 Year of Reading subscription from the English language bookstore Shakespeare and Company in Paris, France.

[Annesha · Rating 5 out of 5]

We are so lucky to have this author with us. These poems are luminous, giving respect and time to the small aches and large pains and infinite beauties in life, connecting the history of Taiwan with the history of having a body, capturing moments no one else could articulate.

[Tina · Rating 5 out of 5]

RETURN FLIGHT by Jennifer Huang is an astounding poetry book! I loved these poems! I loved the raw vulnerability within the topics of their Taiwanese heritage, Chinese folk religion, the body and family. I really enjoyed the structure of this collection as we go on a journey with multiple departures and even a layover. My fave poems are Fantasy Self-Erasure, From the Taiwan Cypress in Alishan and Zuihitsu for Yushan. I appreciated the notes at the end of this book that gives more context for some of the poems. I know I will be returning to Return Flight! Loved it!
.
Congrats to Jennifer for winning the 2021 Ballard Spahr Prize for Poetry! And I love the cover art by Maria Medem!
.
Thank you to Milkweed Editions for my uncorrected proof!

[disco · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pleasure Practice

I am aligning myself with pleasure. This means daily I pray for theirs—my neighbors who fuck loud.
They fight the same. I learn the sound is better than the silence after.

[naviya]

- some favorite poems: customs, fantasy self-erasure, notes on orange, tanka, song of choufu dofu, zuihitsu for yushan
- also the cover is really pretty!!

[Rose Stanley · Rating 2 out of 5]

Shakespeare and Company Year of Reading, October pick.

I wanted to like this more than I did - especially given the author is both Taiwanese-American and non-binary - but for the most part this collection just didn't land for me. Dommage.

[Jesse · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sometimes a book doesn’t land on the reader. I’m sure this will impact many, I just so happen to not be one of them.

[julie | eggmama]

Favorites:
- Departure (I)
- Individualism
- A Visit from Brother Ghost on the Harvest Moon
- Pleasure Practice

I like the poems where they talk about their family and father best!

[Ashley · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I want to feel all of me / realize what is, what is; / my body, in existence; enough."

Recommended poems: "Individualism," "The Creek," and "Layover"

[eris · Rating 4 out of 5]

stunning stunning stunning! so many thoughts about identity, bodies, and how we choose to name love! 4.7

full review here: https://cuinthemargins.wixsite.com/my...

[Courtney LeBlanc · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collection of poems about family, inheritance, identity, trauma, and desire.

from Customs: "Funny, how I can forgive my brother, / not my father for teaching him. And no, I can't praise my father / for never hitting me—his threats, a metronome keeping my life / in rhythm. If I try hard enough, I can forget but / a part of me wishes to keep y hand on these memories, / to feed them to their ends."

from Manifest: "another boy / who showed me the Pac-Man / arcade in his parents' basement, // his arms muscular, his hands / maneuvering the mouth / around the maze, and I / the ghost following."

from Departure: "My mind is always faster / than my body. Mother sees the scrapes on my knees / and tries to beat me with a wire hanger. It never reaches / flesh. Still I can never walk past a sharp corner / without bruising myself."

[Jenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

Several extremely good poems in here, highly relatable. Reading this made me wonder what it is about being obsessed with finding a comfortable space to inhabit, the discomfort of owing our parents so much even when the parenting has been less than stellar. Is this strictly an immigrant narrative? A universal one? I read on.

[Leonard · Rating 4 out of 5]

Emily Jungmin Yoon writes that "Jennifer Huang's Return Flight feels like a conversation and journey at once. It is a charismatic debut collection..." I agree. These poems are steady and strong, but not overbearing. The poet writes as if talking to the reader in a personal way. Positive and recommended.

[jen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am just that: a human that wants to be closer to God
so you could love me as you've // always imagined

v sweet library find and got to read it outside on a bench today :) documenting that soft glow joy

i was not so taken by the language // it felt fairly rounded and direct but many good moments and a v gorgeous cover. gratitude :)))))))))))

[Melissa Helton · Rating 4 out of 5]

I needed to flip back and forth to the notes, which isn't a problem, but it wasn't as easy on e-book form. Beautiful poems. The forms were varied and interesting. As a child of immigration, I felt connected to the speaker, even though we span different cultures.

[Varun · Rating 5 out of 5]

Deft, daring, and brilliantly original. Jennifer Huang’s voice is strong, yet Carrie’s within it all the complexities and tenderness of love, the scars of the past but with a glint of optimism. I loved this journey that Huang took me on. A must read for poetry lovers.

[Amie Whittemore · Rating 4 out of 5]

Huang's book is quite beautiful, exploring identity and desire and the haunting feeling of home-seeking. Furthermore, it is formally astute, trying out different structural moves as it roves over layovers and departures, as it seeks to make sense of the repetition of life. A truly wonderful debut.

[Sophie · Rating 5 out of 5]

💕💕💕

[Jess · Rating 4 out of 5]

some poems hit really hard for me, others less so. shoutout to stinky tofu (that shit is good)

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really liked the poem "Customs". And I enjoyed all the mythology in this collection.

[Hannah]

Lots that’s good but I absolutely loved How to Love a Rock and also the acknowledgements

[Sara Shocks · Rating 4 out of 5]

Favorites: "Disaster," "Notes on Orange," "Procedure," "228," "From the Taiwan Cypress in Alishan," "Among a s'ea of clouds," "On Days I Stay With My Father"

[Jimi Evans Remick]

favorites:

turbulence
song of chou doufu
manifest

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

my favorite is ‘on days I stay with my father’. love the chou dofu poem too

[Cheryl · Rating 3 out of 5]

The poem becomes the prayers,
and the prayers become my body.
The body, I notice, plays a symphony…

I am delighted by my face: a map
I apparently can’t hide.

I am mountain, storm, water-dust.
Those who come rarely know

when to leave. Go ahead—

call me naïve, then see:
these winds, turning, carry justice.

Be with her and share your day, how you jumped
into a river, came out ice. How you

worry now, let it go. Give her space to
say not words; then, when she’s ready, many (found poem)

Poetry Unbound did one of her poems, one of the three named Departure in this book, but I had already had this on hold at the library so was happy to get a glimpse, and then a submergence in the book. I read recently of a poet who attended chemistry lectures to find new metaphors, and I love that image, love the way that poets think and write their metaphors, and sometimes they speak to all of us. A poet to watch!

DEPARTURE

The things I don’t know have stayed

In this home. I look out to a nothing sky.
I am learning to fly before I speak.

Learned to fly before I could speak.
Before I could speak, I was left behind.

What I couldn’t express, was left behind.
I leave behind the things that don’t belong

To me. The red life vest floating out to sea.

poem for giving birth (excerpt)
my mother in another mother’s body and me,
my own mother. i build a moat,
oar to meet a mountain i mine.

LAYOVER
Taiwan is written all over
your face, the 7-Eleven clerk says
at check-out. His name, that of a gem:
Topaz, who’s been
to Kaohsiung, Guangdong, Fujian,
Shanghai, Beijing— I have never been. Your places,
he says and I bristle at the mixing,
though delighted by my face: a map
I apparently can’t hide. The shame,
then, at my delight:
I just want to be close.

Back in a house, this map devours
softness: a spoonful
of coffee-flavored san-yi
melting on the tongue
and into me. Then, a memory:

tsua-bing
and ai-yu
to cool the
climate—
everywhere,
bodies sweating into one.
Do I do,
to Taiwan,
as the man does to me.
…
Taiwan is a feather;
first and third
quarter moon;
an angled leaf;
peace lily;
papaya;
mango pit,
chewed and slick;
pinky nail; profile
of Ah-jie’s nose
before he turns
to me; cracked
seashell; lobster
claw; getting lost
in green brush
then seeing
the sea.
…
I am mountain, storm, water-dust.
Those who come rarely know

when to leave. Go ahead—

call me naïve, then see:
these winds, turning, carry justice.

AFTER THE STORM

And I know I am evergreen.
I am leaving me. Yes,

again, I lost my body and found it under
the mattress.

The yoga instructor says to feel the ground
hold you up. I fear the world most

in these moments. I make like a kite, let
the wind hold me up. The sun cracks
my skin till I tatter. There was a time
when all I could think of was
getting back to sleep…

HOW TO LOVE A ROCK
Notice the maroon cirrus clouds against
the gray of her landscape, then each white spot—
stars that propel you into space. Tell her
what you see, how you love the way

she smells like grass and salt. Ask about her
properties, history, how she was picked
from the glacial waters of Lake Crescent
and brought across the land to be placed

in your palms. Ask to feel her smooth. Caress
till your thumb can find a home in her brook.
Be with her and share your day, how you jumped
into a river, came out ice. How you

worry now, let it go. Give her space to
say not words; then, when she’s ready, many

DRIFT
this poem wants to be about dad’s beet face when he has exactly one drink; how, outside of a Paris café, glasses of wine in hand, brother and I glow like that one Van Gogh painting. It wants to be about mom wafting prayers as she stirs ribs and radishes and cauliflower in a pot for hours. The poem becomes the prayers,
and the prayers become my body. The body, I notice, plays a symphony…
DEPARTURE
My father used to pick baby bok choy sprouts and place them in my
bowl. I don’t remember exactly when he stopped, but I miss those
dinners when grown-ups would fight to pay—sometimes pretending
to go to the bathroom but really grabbing the check. We would
choke down our food to get seconds though there was always plenty.
Slurping and clanking took place of conversation until the table
was left a wreck. My father and I would share what we called the
best parts of the fish—the cheeks and neck—and suck the meat from
the bones. He would cut a spoonful, place sweet-brothed ginger and
scallions atop, and tell me, Chew slowly and feel what you are eating.
Once, I realized a bone was stuck in my throat. The skeleton clawed
my speech—why didn’t I listen? My brother fed me vinegar-doused
rice. I took it, swallowed every bite and bit through acid nausea,
and gradually, from my throat it dissolved further, within, without
evidence.

[Sravanireddy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is another fantastic book of my 2023 reading journey, she wrote everything very real,the way she adopted poems from her life is ethereal, reading this poetry collection is like a gift from mountains, yeah it’s very positively great poetry book.

[dayi novas · Rating 3 out of 5]

silky smooth mournful poetry - "Ode to Orange," "From the Taiwan Cypress in Alishan," and "Poem for Giving Birth" were my favorites.

[frog · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5/5

[Connie · Rating 5 out of 5]

from "How to Love a Rock": "Tell her / what you see, how you love the way // she smells like grass and salt."