Asylum

September 24, 2001
U.S. nuclear testing on Bikini Atoll, children born of Vietnamese women raped by American soldiers (and those born deformed by Agent Orange) and the effects of syphilis are matched by a willing vitriol, vengefulness and accusations in Barry's speakers. A University of Wisconsin assistant English professor and former Wallace Stegner Fellow, Barry sharpens these apostrophes with rich images deftly drawn in a cold, honed poetry: "Even here in this city of a white house, you dream of clouds/ sprouting like black lungs."

September 1, 2001
Composed in an oblique, postmodern style, the poems in Barry's first book reveal a dysfunctional global society where young women are still circumcised, a teenager is nearly bludgeoned to death in her own bed, African Americans are routinely brutalized, and Siamese twins somehow survive the horrible after-effects of Agent Orange. For Barry, too, is a survivor, as she confesses in her brilliant autobiographical poem, "Child of the Enemy," the centerpiece of this collection. The poet empathizes with all the abused and marginalized characters in the book because she is an Amerasian with "shame/ on the dark meat" of her face. Her remarkable poems are studded with allusions to the Bible, Bob Dylan, Osip Mandelstam, and Yukio Mishima. The titles are dazzling, running the gamut from mathematical equations to cartoon characters. Barry holds these disparate poems together with her strongly original voice, her carefully nuanced tone, and her surprising metaphors, like the "blue scripts" of rivers. Highly recommended for large public and academic libraries. Daniel L. Guillory, Millikin Univ., Decatur, IL

Copyright 2001 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.