Although all the poems in Oculus are beautiful and evocative, some of the most moving of these poems (and my personal favorites) feature the imagined narratives of famous Asian-American women. Sally Wen Mao takes advantage of poetry’s ability to suspend disbelief to create a wonderful series of poems that transcends time and space. For instance, she places Ana May Wong--the first Chinese-American female movie star--on the set of Breakfast at Tiffany’s or conversing with Bruce Lee, creating innovative poetry and exacting racial injustices by lending Wong a voice.
What I love about Murakami’s running book is that he does not pretend that all life’s problems can be solved by running a faster marathon. Murakami is frank not only about the human limitations of running but about his very own, openly acknowledging that he cannot run a faster marathon anymore. To him, running is not a means to a qualifying race time--and no, it’s not a “way of life,” either: it’s an exercise for the mind and the body. You should only run if it makes you happy, and I was happy to learn that I’m not alone in this sentiment.
The trial at the heart of Bringing Down the Colonel offers a glimpse into life during the Gilded Age and, more importantly, how women can bring about important social change. Madeleine Pollard, the woman at the center of the trial, truly puts the whole system on trial when she sues Colonel Breckinridge for “breach of promise,” demanding that he be held to the same standards as she is. Many women—before, alongside, and after Madeleine Pollard—also helped bring down this system, making this book about more than one woman’s quest for justice: it is inspiration for when the fight seems futile.
