I Can Almost See the Clouds of Dust

by Yu Xiang

These spare, yet sensuous poems, selfless, but beating with an inimitable voice and heart, remind me that no matter what the language, no matter what the culture, there is only one the poetry of the bone marrow. May this haunting, truth-insistent book circumnavigate the whole planet! ¡XThomas Lux Yu Xiang comfortably inhabits the negative space betwee

Genres: Poetry

168 pages, Paperback

First published May 14, 2013

Reviews

[pearl]

Yu Xiang's voice is somehow magnetic, funny, pointed, and vulnerable, as much as it is mundane. This is not to say that her poetry is boring (au contraire!), but after sinking into Bei Dao's ultra esoteric The August Sleepwalker, I have to say this is bland-core. And I dig it. What is it about blandness--with a touch of weird melancholy and gentle resignation--that I like so much? Yu Xiang's lines are bland, yes, and also discerning; her lens is so dry, at times, focused on just an object, a movement, it can be clinical. But I gain a sense of scale in her poems--that is, they feel spacious in the way that a small room with very little furniture and an open window imparts everything with significance, making the emptiness, and silences, feel bigger, tender, and honest.

Street

Talk about the street, at vendor stalls
we drink beer, peel edamame
Peel open the summer tagging behind
Like luscious fruit, it ripens overnight
and rots. In summer

peel open the past tagging behind
and those dark readings
A simple love
We dress simply, love simply
so simply that we fall in love
once we meet

Love someone
anyone, bring
their sorrows to the street

[Renaissancecat22]

Honestly, I'm probably not the best person to review this as I don't tend to "get" poetry. I was left questioning how many of these poems I didn't understand and how many were just translated a bit too abstractly. It was worse for me towards the end of the collection but I don't know if I was just running of patience with it. I do think it would have been helpful to have more context or at least footnotes for some of the later poems which reference very specific things (like natural disasters) and don't feel as resonant without any context. With the better poems, I did feel a sense of cadence and flow even if it was free verse and there were a few lovely phrases or evocative images but also a lot of pretentious word choices. It was like looking for meaning in the universe by deciphering shapes in clouds. I didn't loathe the experience (for the most part) but I don't think I derived much meaning from it.

[Caitlyn Chung]

I gave it four stars simply because I admit to not knowing any poetry, and that I if I were able to read the original Chinese, it may have been more expansive (that being said, the translation was fantastic and did a wonderful job of conveying every word and meaning thoughtfully).

From personal to wordly, the poems are highly introspective; as the forward says that Xiang Yu finds words in mundane, and every day life is detailed to a greater thought or concept. Overall, they're lovely poems and worth the read.

[Meg]

There's nothing like an immersive poetry collection to get me back into the habit of reading. Xiang's style fits well into the niche of poetry I like the best, this sort of surreal or dark abstract approach to large reoccurring themes. I'm also a huge fan of collections that include the original text as well as the translated pieces. Carson's Sappho collection also comes to mind when thinking about this layout choice. All in all, a great quick read for modern poetry fans.

[Toreisii]

A great deal of this book encapsulated a quiet, hardened despair but the later poems were more diverse and thought-provoking.