The Landlady in Bangkok (National Poetry Series) [Paperback]

Karen Swenson (Author)

Book Description

Publication Date: June 1, 1994

These disturbing travel poems, by the author of An Attic of Ideals, seek the essential human character beneath the surface of politics and philosophy in Southeast Asia. Original.

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

So many poets have made the requisite sojourn abroad-and written of it-that the travel genre can seem a matter of convention, and often of pretention. Partly for that reason, it's exhilarating to come upon Swenson's (A Sense of Direction) third book, a 1993 National Poetry Series competition selection, which collects her poems about Southeast Asia. These aren't the romantic escapist imaginings of a Westerner fulfilling one stage of a personal or a professional itinerary. Rather, Swenson shows how a writer can be enriched, honestly, by what is "alien." The poetry, organized in sections by country, is at times lushly descriptive, but more frequently fastens on the real than on what a visitor had envisioned: "I wake/ and shake a roach, size of a half-smoked stogie,/ from my bag back to the jungle," is one jauntily brisk example. Swenson writes of her own experiences but also, in numerous persona poems, puts herself in the shoes of others-assessing with empathy yet no excess of mercy the lot of various "real" tourists and their illusions. Her imagery is vivacious, yet not too deferential to site or susceptible to the seductions of exotica. Swenson writes with a respectful curiosity that is not self-forgetful, neither vain nor too humble.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal

What's best about this collection-one of five 1993 National Poetry Series winners-is its subject matter: it's a feminist travelog of Southeast Asia, giving a portrait not only of foreign places but of the modern woman, traveling: "I'm a prurient curiosity/in my unorthodox sex, to the local men." Swenson, a journalist as well as a poet, traveled through Burma, Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam. In "Sulawesi: Balconies of the Dead," she describes an Indonesian village that celebrates death; in "Stalking Lemurs" she writes of going animal-tracking in the middle of the night. These poems pulse with a spirit of adventure and with a keen sense of observation, but often the language is too mundane, not sensual enough to capture this strange foreign world. "Exotic is our mutual word in the village" Swenson writes, yet we don't get enough of the everyday sensual detail that makes Southeast Asia such an exotic place. Still, Swenson does escort us in these poems to other lands, to "islands of trees hummock up in green/paddies shading lean-tos grey and mud/crusted buffalo." Recommended for larger collections.
Doris Lynch, Bloomington P.L., Ind.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.

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Product Details

• Paperback: 96 pages
• Publisher: Copper Canyon Press; First Edition edition (June 1, 1994)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1556590679
• ISBN-13: 978-1556590672
• Product Dimensions: 9 x 6.1 x 0.4 inches
• Shipping Weight: 6.2 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 5.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (2 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #3,864,981 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Swenson's poems are mesmerizing., August 2, 1998

By A Customer

This review is from: The Landlady in Bangkok (National Poetry Series) (Paperback)

I am still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of a glass tower in Camboda, filled with skulls "facing" outward in four directions, overlooking a picnic ground. Swenson takes us places we had not perhaps originally considered traveling as women alone, and we are richer for it.

5.0 out of 5 stars Swenson's poems are mesmerizing., August 7, 1998

By A Customer

This review is from: The Landlady in Bangkok (National Poetry Series) (Paperback)

I am still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of a glass tower in Cambodia filled with skulls overlooking a picnic ground. The poems consist of other such exquisite oxymorons. As a woman, I would hesitate to visit the countries about which Swenson writes; I am enriched by her travels.