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Aerial Concave Without Cloud
A collection of poems about starlight, survival, resilience, and acceptance after experiences of profound grief.
Steeped in the bluest apocalypse light of solar collapse and the pale, ghostly light of personal devastation and grief, Aerial Concave Without Cloud rests in the light of human mortality. Through a combination of academic research and the salp’uri dance form, Sueyeun Juliette Lee channels and interprets the language of starlight through her body and into poetic form. In doing so, Lee discovers that resilience is not an attitude or posture, but a way of listening. Through deep conversation with this primary element, Lee finds the human fundamental inside herself.
Steeped in the bluest apocalypse light of solar collapse and the pale, ghostly light of personal devastation and grief, Aerial Concave Without Cloud rests in the light of human mortality. Through a combination of academic research and the salp’uri dance form, Sueyeun Juliette Lee channels and interprets the language of starlight through her body and into poetic form. In doing so, Lee discovers that resilience is not an attitude or posture, but a way of listening. Through deep conversation with this primary element, Lee finds the human fundamental inside herself.
- GenresPoetryAsian American
104 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2015
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
June 30, 2023
As the title of the book might signal, the book relies heavily on a symbolic language. In particular, it builds a language around light. Like light as it could be symbolically related to life, and light with a problematic concreteness. Is light concrete? Is it a phenomenon? I don't know. And what I like about Lee's book is it decides light will serve in a symbolic capacity, while also leaving a perforated line around its confidence. Because it willingly admits light isn't concrete, and yet, as the poems would recognize, the language used for light only aggravates the seeming concreteness of something that eludes concreteness.
The result, for me, is a more careful consideration of light and how it symbolically operates in the book. And I like books that make me carefully consider. Because if the book is going to explore a question like "What is life?" why not use an unstable language for the description? Like another of the symbolic gestures in the book arises in the poem "a tree," where she challenges the reader to "create the emotional equivalent // now in one dimension" of a tree inside the body. Look at the world and feel the tree in you. Absorb the light and imagine the tree in you, what it does with that light. This is how Lee uses the symbolic. It's complicated and sounds precise notes within an ambiguous cloud of sense.
And when she applies this language to what appears to be her adoption, specifically to understanding who her "originating mother" might have been, it gains even more traction for me. I would like to think this was an overarching concern for the book. But I'm not sure. The book takes such great care in this language around light, and its potential for symbolic explanation. And the significance of light is further highlighted by the poet's travels to Norway and Iceland. I find the glimpses into issues around the poet's mother resonant; it is evident the mother is an active concern, just in the way symbolic language is applied. All of which emphasizes the complexity of symbols in Lee's book. And the various ways they're applied in the last third of the book.
The result, for me, is a more careful consideration of light and how it symbolically operates in the book. And I like books that make me carefully consider. Because if the book is going to explore a question like "What is life?" why not use an unstable language for the description? Like another of the symbolic gestures in the book arises in the poem "a tree," where she challenges the reader to "create the emotional equivalent // now in one dimension" of a tree inside the body. Look at the world and feel the tree in you. Absorb the light and imagine the tree in you, what it does with that light. This is how Lee uses the symbolic. It's complicated and sounds precise notes within an ambiguous cloud of sense.
And when she applies this language to what appears to be her adoption, specifically to understanding who her "originating mother" might have been, it gains even more traction for me. I would like to think this was an overarching concern for the book. But I'm not sure. The book takes such great care in this language around light, and its potential for symbolic explanation. And the significance of light is further highlighted by the poet's travels to Norway and Iceland. I find the glimpses into issues around the poet's mother resonant; it is evident the mother is an active concern, just in the way symbolic language is applied. All of which emphasizes the complexity of symbols in Lee's book. And the various ways they're applied in the last third of the book.
June 24, 2023
This is my first time reading Lee, and all I have to say is this: what an experience of light. Can't recommend this collection highly enough.
April 2, 2024
some especially strong moments, much about light... some delightful turns.
good to whisper out loud to urself
good to whisper out loud to urself
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews