Going Behind the Scenes: Focal Point by Jenny Qi
Confronting grief is something that is often avoided in thought and conversation. Writing about grief is another beast in itself. Jenny Qi tackles this issue with a ferocious grace in her new collection Focal Point. Through the use of various forms and moments that create intentional pause, this collection cascades the reader on a tumultuous vital journey through memory.
One of the initial highlights of this book is how the objective is made clear from the start. By employing matter of fact titles, the scenes are set in terms of geography and memory. The reader is led though the Bay Area fog to hospital bedsides and plunges nonlinearly through time which mirrors the grieving process. There is no single path set to follow and Qi is acutely aware of this. She provides a look into a version of grief with involved specificity that is presented through approximated dates and in the intimate process of writing letters to her mother after she died. A captivating moment of address to the past arrives in “Letters To My Mother” (9):
I never believed in anything
Now I believe in everything,
all the rituals of all the faiths. (27-29)
These three lines exemplify how death can change you in a myriad of ways. Whether it is in perspective or practice, Qi leaves this intentionally open-ended so the reader is never left outside of the equation.
With an increasing emphasis on the body throughout, Qi is able to dissect what seems to be the most complex elements seen in love and death. Sometimes this is displayed in comparisons of cells or in recalled radiation appointments. In either case, the poems invite research so the reader can zoom in on the intricacies that shape who we are as human beings. There are also intertwining elements of thought that help achieve this invitation to investigation. The reader can start with a spread on mythological figures then instantly dive into a biology lesson without feeling detached from the overall theme of reflection.
The ever-changing landscape of the book is mirrored in the numerous forms employed throughout. Beginning with couplets creates a concrete dual nature between the speaker and her mother that guides the reader throughout the collection. At times this means physically shifting the poems into a landscape view and other instances instead rely on the empty space to convey the intensity of each situation. Qi makes incredible use of the line creating high points of energy in what seem like small sections. One of the clearest examples of this is in the concluding couplets in “A Kind of Flattery” (42):
I was my thinnest
at my mother’s bedside.
Melting away was the last thing
we would do together. (15-18)
With these lines, Qi is able to demonstrate the physical toll of grief while probing thought beyond this fact. No one warns you that while you’re grieving that you have to continue existing in the world and each individual circumstance is different. These lines can echo a similar experience in the reader’s mind or it can serve as a sort of potential premonition. The power in these lines is insanely palpable and it is a feat that can only be achieved by a masterful poet.
Pace is maintained throughout by providing a sense of discovery for the reader even if they don’t identify with specific scenarios. There are multiple points of interest that probe rereading of the text and a reanalysis of your relationship to grief that transcends the limitation of a single elegy. It is made apparent that there was a blueprint in the poet’s mind for this collection that allowed a view that is unique in so many facets to flourish. The collection ends with a concrete storytelling base successfully established and in a sweeping motion that exemplifies the vastness around us. Focal Point provides a starting point to a journey that will never end but will inevitably change the trajectory of your life.