Tribal Fare
Nov. 8th, 2024 10:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
davidkmMary E. Choo, 2004, Dream Tribes, gnometree west books. There is no contact information whatsoever for the publisher, which suggests that this book is self published.
The book is divided into categories: Asian poems, Pelican poems, Martian poems¸ and Dream Tribes. I find this an idiosyncratic mix. I mean, Asia is very big and general; it contains a plateau that controls the weather for half the world, but pelicans are just one kind of peculiar chordate; a few species in a narrow niche and not long for this world, not as Asia measures time anyway. It looks as though Mary shuffled through the pile of poems she had available for this book and asked herself "do these fall into any categories at all?" Then again, the incongruity may have been intentional. But none of this is important. The taste test is what counts and this book passes.
"I really have a grandmother, you see;
all these years
I've kept her in a trunk upstairs"
"I snatched at his wings
while he peeled cool as marble
his neck snapping off
like an ivory stem"
"scattering like butterflies
they place the food on blades
of grass as wide as bamboo leaves"
Think of those as hors d'oeuvres. They are of course really parts of longer works, but that is the genius of Mary Choo's writing. She assembles tasty bits that are perfect already to make something better, something that makes sense, and we see that the bits are actually only ingredients in a truly praiseworthy dish. No, the book doesn't include a culinary theme. But it just seemed to me that it was worthy of being devoured.
I have read a number of chapbooks over the years that did not include any means of ordering them. This is the one that gives me the greatest regret. I looked for Mary's contact information on the web and didn't find it, but I am sure it will come my way or Marge's way after this is published. It can be put into a future issue of this magazine. That's how much I like this book.
All of the poems in this book appear to have been published before, but many of the venues are obscure. I suspect even a widely read reader will find some brand-new food for thought in this kitchen.
The book is divided into categories: Asian poems, Pelican poems, Martian poems¸ and Dream Tribes. I find this an idiosyncratic mix. I mean, Asia is very big and general; it contains a plateau that controls the weather for half the world, but pelicans are just one kind of peculiar chordate; a few species in a narrow niche and not long for this world, not as Asia measures time anyway. It looks as though Mary shuffled through the pile of poems she had available for this book and asked herself "do these fall into any categories at all?" Then again, the incongruity may have been intentional. But none of this is important. The taste test is what counts and this book passes.
"I really have a grandmother, you see;
all these years
I've kept her in a trunk upstairs"
"I snatched at his wings
while he peeled cool as marble
his neck snapping off
like an ivory stem"
"scattering like butterflies
they place the food on blades
of grass as wide as bamboo leaves"
Think of those as hors d'oeuvres. They are of course really parts of longer works, but that is the genius of Mary Choo's writing. She assembles tasty bits that are perfect already to make something better, something that makes sense, and we see that the bits are actually only ingredients in a truly praiseworthy dish. No, the book doesn't include a culinary theme. But it just seemed to me that it was worthy of being devoured.
I have read a number of chapbooks over the years that did not include any means of ordering them. This is the one that gives me the greatest regret. I looked for Mary's contact information on the web and didn't find it, but I am sure it will come my way or Marge's way after this is published. It can be put into a future issue of this magazine. That's how much I like this book.
All of the poems in this book appear to have been published before, but many of the venues are obscure. I suspect even a widely read reader will find some brand-new food for thought in this kitchen.
