Asian American and Pacific Islander Resources

Ocean Vuong's first full-length collection aims straight for the perennial “big”—and very human—subjects of romance, family, memory, grief, war, and melancholia. None of these he allows to overwhelm his spirit or his poems, which demonstrate, through breath and cadence and unrepentant enthrallment, that a gentle palm on a chest can calm the fiercest hungers.

Hoa Nguyen's latest collection is a poetic meditation on historical, personal, and cultural pressures pre- and post-"Fall-of-Saigon" and comprises a verse biography on her mother, Diep Anh Nguyen, a stunt motorcyclist in an all-woman Vietnamese circus troupe. Multilayered, plaintive, and provocative, the poems in A Thousand Times You Lose Your Treasure are alive with archive and inhabit histories. In turns lyrical and unsettling, her poetry sings of language and loss; dialogues with time, myth and place; and communes with past and future ghosts.

Before her untimely death in 2010, Ai, known for her searing dramatic monologues, was hailed as "one of the most singular voices of her generation" (New York Times Book Review). Now for the first time, all eight books by this essential and uniquely American poet have been gathered in one volume. from "The Cockfighter's Daughter" I found my father, face down, in his homemade chili and had to hit the bowl with a hammer to get it off, then scrape the pinto beans and chunks of ground beef off his face with a knife.

In this ferocious and tender debut, Chen Chen investigates inherited forms of love and family--the strained relationship between a mother and son, the cost of necessary goodbyes--all from Asian American, immigrant, and queer perspectives. Holding all accountable, this collection fully embraces the loss, grief, and abundant joy that come with charting one's own path in identity, life, and love.

After her mother died, poet Victoria Chang refused to write elegies. Rather, she distilled her grief during a feverish two weeks by writing scores of poetic obituaries for all she lost in the world. In Obit, Chang writes of "the way memory gets up after someone has died and starts walking." These poems reinvent the form of newspaper obituary to both name what has died ("civility," "language," "the future," "Mother's blue dress") and the cultural impact of death on the living.

This landmark anthology provide the first historical survey of Asian American poetry. The poems were selected to reflect both the high quality and wide range of Asian American poetic discourse. The anthology begins with writings from the 1890s by Sadakichi Harmann and Yone Noguchi and includes poems by Jun Fujita (1923), Bunishi Kagawa (1930), Hisaye Yamamoto (1940), Diana Change 91946) , and others. Earlly work by well-known writers Joy Kogawa, Jessica Hagedorn, and Lawson Inada are also represented. Essays by Fay Chiang, Eric Chock, Alan Chong Lau, Kimiko Hahn, and Gerry Shikatani give an overview of regional Asian American poetry scenes from the 1970s through the 1990s, and the editor provides a complete bibliography of published volumes of Asian American poetry. An important source book, Quiet Fire makes a significant contribution to the remapping of American poetry and Asian American literature.

I have almost finished my longbook, Maxine Hong Kingston declares. "Let my life as Poet begin...I won't be a workhorse anymore; I'll be a skylark." To Be the Poet is Kingston's manifesto, the avowal and declaration of a writer who has devoted a good part of her sixty years to writing prose, and who, over the course of this spirited and inspiring book, works out what the rest of her life will be, in poetry.

Dictee is the best-known work of the versatile and important artist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha (1951-1982). A classic work of autobiography that transcends the self, Dictee is the story of several women: the Korean revolutionary Yu Guan Soon, Joan of Arc, Demeter and Persephone, Cha's mother Hyung Soon Huo (a Korean born in Manchuria to first-generation Korean exiles), and Cha herself. The element that unites these women is suffering and the transcendence of suffering. The book is divided into nine parts structured around the Greek Muses. Cha deploys a variety of texts, documents, images, and forms of address and inquiry to explore issues of dislocation and the fragmentation of memory. The result is a work of power, complexity, and enduring beauty.