Jennifer Chang

Author: Jennifer Chang

Bio:

Jennifer Chang is the author of The History of Anonymity, which was a finalist for the Glasgow/Shenandoah Prize for Emerging Writers and listed by Hyphen Magazine as a Top Five Book of Poetry for 2008. Her poems have appeared in American Poetry Review, Best American Poetry 2012, The Nation, Poetry, A Public Space, and elsewhere. She is an assistant professor of English and Creative Writing at George Washington University and lives in Washington, DC with her family.

Books by Jennifer Chang:

Blurbs by Jennifer Chang:

Lupe Gómez, Camouflage (2019)

In Camouflage, Lupe Gómez writes of a mother who, even in death, is not hidden but integral to their rural home. In this, the poet spotlights the ecological import of “camouflage,” meaning not only to disguise but also to blend into the environment. “With my love I make you a forest,” Gómez promises, and so she reimagines death as both creation myth and “political project,” energizing a history and place that her language refuses to forsake. A feminist pastoral epic for the 21st century, Camouflage makes the powerful claim that time is incantatory and that poetry may very well restore our dreams for the future. For new readers, Erín Moure’s translation and afterword, with generous erudition, vividly uphold Gómez’s radiant vision.

Blurbs for Jennifer Chang

Blurbs for Some Say the Lark (2017):

Some Say the Lark is a piercing meditation, rooted in loss and longing, and manifest in dazzling leaps of the imagination—the familiar world rendered strange.

Natasha Trethewey

Blurbs for The History of Anonymity: Poems (2008):

These poems seem to exist inside the natural world, as if sea and tree were garments that the poet wears as a first skin. The open form therefore allows for ample movement and air, while she tries to shuck off primary human relationships in favor of this first one. The poems are open, easy to read and pleasurable to feel as expressions.

Fanny Howe

In this remarkable first collection, Jennifer Chang writes, 'You don't see the black line of yourself, the vanishing you slowly come to.' Spare yet sinuous; haunted, visionary; these poems continually enact encounters between what vanishes and what burns in the body and mind.

Arthur Sze

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