It's difficult to ever feel entirely comfortable in one's own skin. Following on from the excellent debut “Flèche”, Chan's new collection of poetry continues to describe the tension between self expression and belonging. Some poems deal with the struggle to find acceptance within the family and the bravery required to present oneself authentically. Sage advice is offered in the line “refuse to be a bomb shelter for your mother's fears.” But the book also suggests the surprising love and approval that can be found when there is honesty. Other poems reference the recent pandemic and startling moments of bigotry that are experienced. Not only do belittling words and actions create fresh lacerations but they're a reminder of all the different levels of abuse one has experienced throughout life and “How the body endures the toll of another's glance.” Over the course of three sections, this collection presents a life in constant flux and how we search for moments of solace and potential connection within our shared language.

One of the standout poems for me is titled 'Hindsight' which follows a path of logic considering one's position of privilege in relation to the suffering of past generations. Then the lines of the poem are reversed to give a whole new meaning and perspective on this issue. There's a natural guilt which accompanies living with a knowledge about the struggles our ancestors contended with and knowing that we wouldn't exist if they hadn't persisted through them. But that doesn't mean we should minimise the perils we face in our present times alongside the opportunities that have been provided. This poem poignantly expressed this through its structure and helped clarify my understanding after grappling with this issue for a long time.

Just as the author meaningfully articulates the challenges of navigating the world, there's also a deep consideration for the difficulty of finding which form this writing should take. This is addressed playfully at one point where it's noted “The poet opened a clean Word document, titled it POETRY, then saved it in a folder titled NONFICTION, then saved it in a folder titled FICTION.” Chan admits a preference for the poetic mode because “I want my reader to understand my protagonist and their feelings without my having to describe them in detail”. Poetry also comes across as the best refuge when confronted with the judgement of others: “I left home for the poem: inscrutable house, constructed space, blue room, how the poets have named a heaven in which lonely meanings sit companionably beside lonely children.” Many beautiful moments of connection can be found through the poems in this excellent book.

“Flèche”, the title of Mary Jean Chan’s poetry collection, means an aggressive offensive fencing technique and the author refers to her experience participating in the sport throughout several pieces. This central metaphor describes her process of literally arming herself in combat, but also poignantly suggests how she must battle against her identity being suppressed especially in white and non-queer spaces. The preface of this book points out that “We are defined against something, by what we are not and will never be.” The way in which the author must assert herself in opposition to this persistent and pernicious act of being characterized as what she is not is dynamically explored throughout these poems.

The collection seems to roughly follow a chronological progression from her childhood where she recounts tales and fables relayed about her ancestry to moving to the West and the awakening of same-sex desire to revisiting her family to introduce them to her partner. All the while, there’s an ongoing dialogue (both internal and verbal) with her mother where the past is ceaselessly pulled into the present. Some poems take on point of view of the mother, others recount scenes with her and one ‘Conversation with Fantasy Mother’ imagines a perfect coming out scenario where “You sieved my tears, added an egg, then baked a beautiful cake.” I found the progression of this complex relationship and the challenge of arriving at an amicable connection to be incredibly emotional. It’s beautiful how Chan pulls at different threads to convey the many ways she is indelibly tied to her mother.

The final point of the preface asserts that “This is a book of love poems.” The overwhelming feeling I was left with from reading this book is just that, a love for family and romantic partners which has been forged out of long-term strife and where all the need for defending oneself has finally been released.