"The Sum of Breathing," by Brenda Kwon (Bamboo Ridge Press, $18)
By Alex Alba
Special to the Star-Advertiser
In "The Sum of Breathing," her new collection of poetry, short stories and memoir, Brenda Kwon takes the reader on the journey of a modern Korean-American woman who’s seeking the precise words and beats to express and define her being. Conveying a sense of urgency and immediacy, she draws a road map of the memories, expectations, relationships, dreams and experiences that came to shape her as a person.
The capricious bonds of mother-daughter relationships define the early portion of the book, with a focus on language that includes silence and an immigrant mother’s disaffection for her adoptive tongue.
In the poem "Inheritance" a daughter contemplates her mother’s solitude while chewing her tongue: "I want it to taste to me of words she has never said, secrets she has kept too well, words for which I listen carefully in the sound of my own breath." In "Flight" a mother’s grace in procuring an avocado triggers a flood of memory in her daughter of her mother’s dreams of becoming a dancer. These dreams are then transferred to a daughter who only "flew in sound, letters, and words." She recalls that "beneath my lyrics I would always hear her earthbound rhythm, that supporting beat," seeking the precise words and beats to express and define her being.
The struggles and strength of communal femininity are pronounced in works such as "Angry Women," where Kwon declares: "You can’t take away a woman’s fists / then punish her for using the things she’s got left / like her words / her feelings / and her power of eternal memory." In the poem "Flying Blonde," Kwon uses the stereotype of blondness as the basis for subverting expectations based strictly on appearance, whether it’s of gender or ethnicity, or purely cosmetic.
Another poem, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road: An Ode to the High Heel," has Kwon addressing her heels as if she were breaking up with an old flame, positing, "I wonder if secretly, maybe that’s where you really wanted me / on the sidelines / looking good / like that’s the only thing I was good for."
In "Where the Women At?" Kwon laments a rude woman’s attitude at a concert as regressive to women’s liberation, stating that "until you see me as your sister in arms, shaking booty’s as far as your freedom will go." The writing here is inspirational, confident and delightfully humorous, providing a refreshing sojourn in the midst of more contemplative meditations.
Kwon excels at line breaks and beats, and in shaping stanzas so that her writing resonates with the syncopated rhythms of her singular voice. In "Mother Tongue" a Korean mother thinks, "My daughter will say all the things I never could." "The Sum of Breathing" fulfills this prophecy, transcending the limitations of language, gender, race and culture. These songs are powerful and worth hearing.
