From Publishers Weekly
I will always be fascinated, Chang writes, by details from my grandmother's childhood. The verse and fragmentary prose of this debut describe her family's life in prerevolutionary mainland China and in Hong Kong. Many short poems react to heirlooms, to oral traditions, and photographs; in a concluding sequence set in the present day, the poet shadows her mother and grandmother returning/ to China... ravenous, as if poised/ on a threshold, each street stall a Kodachrome/ from childhood. Chang explores her heritage, and she reimagines lives with devotion and loyalty. One immigrant woman, presumably her grandmother, plays countless games of solitaire... since your husband's death. Chang also draws on international literary sources: the title poem takes its list form from the Japanese memoirist and courtesan Sei Shonagon, and one especially vivid page derives its form from Eugenio Montale. An allegorical sequence entitled Serindia (i.e., roughly, northwestern China) reaches for a spare elegance that reclaims for Asian-Americans the cadence of Ezra Pound's famous Cathay: Having left my father's court,/ I live in the nomads' camp. I wear fur and felt.
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Review
Chang explores her heritage, and she reimagines lives with devotion and loyalty.
Leslie Chang's several images of trapped light remind me that if you open a kaleidoscope and shake the contents onto your palm, you will discover an assortment of, say, charms and sequins. In this first book, she has collected ordinary things to dazzle the reader--battered planet, aerogramme, jackdaw in azalea, the requisite jade bracelet--then mixes them into the poetry of family history and personal habit. Things That No Longer Delight Me is sure to delight the reader.-Kimiko Hahn
These poems move with poise and a painterly precision through the realms of history, elegy inheritance and loss. They are a map you can trust--if what you seek is an eternity,to cross the narrow portal between seasonsand be led back out in amazement.I am arrested again and again by the beauty and devotion coursing through these lines. -Tracy K. Smith