Phone Bells Keep Ringing for Me by Choi Seungja

Phone Bells Keep Ringing for Me Reviews

• 
  John Darnielle

  This is life-changing poetry; so raw, and yet so precise. Not a wasted word. It’s hard going — the author foregrounds her struggles and doesn’t blink. But the reward is insight of a very rare nature.
• 
  Théo d'Or

  Dontcha you just hate it when your phone rings, and on the other end a sexy voice meows " hi there ! everything's ok ? How are you feeling today ,bla,bla bla " - and you try your best to remember which of your ex-girlfriends she is ,and using the little diplomacy you have, you take the discussion to the hights of pleasure, talking about quantum physics from Boccaccio's Decameron you just read, and , at the end, to be asked if you're actually interested in a new, irresistibly offer at Bouygues Telecom ?
• 
  Caitlin

  "Every woman has a grave inside
  where death and birth sweat it out.
  All humans struggle to flee
  from this eternally blind port.
  Women lie down like a rigid dead sea,
  like the Altamira Cave or a ruined great shrine.
  They provide a home for birds.
  Inside the women, where sandwind blows,
  broken shells birds have pecked their way out of
  and death's debris
  are piled high like empty casings.
  Everything has to pass through the ruined shrine
  and rigid dead sea
  in order to be born again
  and to die again."
  
  -- On Woman
• 
  Aaron

  A new glossary of pain—wave after wave of punishing sadness and a splash of vitriol. Unsentimental and unsparing, at times caustic, openly miserable or worse, these are short poems that read like introspective stab wounds. But a faint light bleeds through even the darkest pages; hope, nearly smothered, lives to limp another day.
  
  For context, this is a translated selection of Choi Seungja’s poetry dating from 1981 to 2010. Individual poems aren’t dated, and it’s not clear how they’re arranged, but there’s a persistent thematic through-line that lends a sense of cohesion.
  
  Another stellar collection from Action Books.
• 
  Taylor Napolsky

  Heartrending, aching work that feels so timely and important. Every line strikes in the gut, relatable in its despair mixed with longing. The verse is sonorous and the metonyms interesting. Burrow into it and explore.
• 
  Christine

  the feral nature of these poems shook me to my core.
• 
  Rebecca Valley

  This book makes me want to write. Seungja has rapidly become a favorite poet of mine. I haven’t loved a book of poems this much in a long time.
• 
  Julie

  Good poetry forces you to slow down, forces you to take your time with it. I found myself reading poems out of this book, then reading them again. This poetry isn't soft. It sits with you for awhile.
• 
  Helen | readwithneleh

  I read this book back in 2020 and I never reviewed it. How foolish of me. I reread this one over the weekend and it was more powerful than what I remembered, which wasn’t much.
  
  Having a little more background on the history of feminism in Korea and the rise of feminist poets like Choi Seungja enhanced my understanding and appreciation of this collection the second time around. Defying and breaking boundaries, Choi’s words are raw, sharp, feral, grating—completely opposite of the traditionally gentle and pretty poetry of female poets in Korea. Not afraid of being vulgar and loud, her imagery is full of blood that is “jelly”, “a maggot-covered corpse”, and becoming “a carpet made of the skin of a dog beaten to death”. Each line hits hard, each word intentional, and all aimed at the patriarchy, capitalism, and political oppression in South Korea.
  
  The works in this collection were selected and translated from Choi’s published works from 1981 - 2010. While there aren’t any dates on when and where the individual poems were published, I didn’t notice or feel any disconnections between each poem or sections. And since I’m obviously not well-versed enough in poetry to understand the intention of the order, I did wish for a small explanation of it. I did very much appreciate the preface written by Cathy Park Hong (“Minor Feelings”), one of the translators.
  
  This was a bold, frightening, and moving collection from one of the most influential feminist poets of South Korea. I can’t wait to read my favorites in its original form (Korean) and see what else comes up for me.
  
  Thank you to the publisher for this review copy. All opinions are my own.