“Going Home” Review: What Does Home Really Look Like?
What does home really look like?
Jonathan Chan’s debut collection of poetry opens with a brief history of familial movement. Acting as a confessional apotheosis of his own ancestry, Chan traces the diverse journeys undertaken by his ancestors who have shaped and built his identity. With vivid emotional and cultural tapestry, readers are immersed in an experience that resonates long after the last verse, carrying readers through the wild and the familiar. Chan's poetic journey transcends a mere collection, seamlessly blending both global and Singaporean landscapes and experiences. At the same time, this collection tracks Jonathan’s personal movement from Seoul, KL, Houston, New York to Singapore– touching on themes of migration, diaspora, and perhaps most importantly the universal challenges towards truly belonging.
As the child of immigrant parents, this book was something that resonated deeply with me. From the very first poem “5 foundings”, “farewells” to “malaysian - american”, Chan writes with unabashed honesty about the difficulties of change– from one country to another, or from one culture to another.
In “5 foundings”, Chan articulates the 5 times that his extended family has established itself in a new country or city– his maternal ancestors establishing themselves in premodern Korea, his ancestors moving from Southern China to Malaya, his maternal grandfather moving his family from Seoul to Hong Kong, his paternal grandfather moving his family from Kuala Lumpur to Houston, and finally, his own parents moving to Singapore from New York City. He is able to bring to life the unique characteristics of each distinct environment, while bringing to light the stark contrasts between them. This is particularly evident in Kuala Lumpur | Houston, 1981, where he poignantly notes “These are burritos not popiah, skewers not satay, but at least our names can remain the same.”. Here, Chan beautifully captures the transformation of native Singaporean culinary delights like popiah and satay into their American counterparts—burritos and skewers. This contrast becomes a powerful metaphor for the profound changes experienced by Asians in a new country, where even the staples of food you have known all your life turn foreign.
Yet, amidst these shifts, the constancy of "our names" emphasises the unchanging essence of people, regardless of the cultural shifts around them. The poem, “yellowface” captures this perfectly, and is my favourite poem of the collection. Jonathan explores the unease of “not truly belonging” in Singapore. He “shared an accent with my best friend- flattened, quasi-American syllables”. This shared linguistic trait, however, reveals itself as a paradox of being both familiar and alien. The evocative phrase, "not yet local, not wholly foreign," serves as a reflection of the liminal space Chan occupies, one in which the illusion of assimilation is shattered. (“Where you learn chinese, the furrowed brows”). In the imagery of “the illusion of a yellow face”, the poet lays bare the challenges of navigating the societal expectations that come with the colour of one's skin, eloquently expressing the internal conflict that arises when faced with the perception of not fitting neatly into predetermined categories. It is with raw honesty that Jonathan writes that “it is one thing to be asked where you’re from in Britain and another, to be asked the same question, within weeks, in the place that will always, almost, feel like home.”
As we read on, the key themes of migration and immigration, coupled with feelings of diaspora and the unease of belonging pervades the underlying message. Yet, his faith journey in christianity remains woven between the pages. The poems “waiting”, “prayer (vi)”, “and “patience” come to my mind immediately. Across the 3 poems, Jonathan imagines his connection to God as a constant presence amidst the complexities of the human experience. In "Waiting," Jonathan employs vivid imagery and metaphorical language (the dull whirring of a restless mind… every clasp of hands drifts into abeyance) to convey a sense of anticipation and “holy discontent”, as if he is waiting for a sign from God. “prayer (vi)”, “and “patience” touch on him growing closer to God through prayer and worship.
Jonathan’s influences and inspirations shine brightly throughout his collection. In an interview I had with Chan, writers like Li-Young Lee, RS Thomas, Boey Kim Cheng and Min Jin Lee were heavy influences in his book’s creation, evident through his heavy focus on the immigrant struggle, of being foreign in a foreign land. For example, “to sing the body ecstatic” is closely entwined with Walt Whitman’s poem “I sing the Body Electric” while "another life” pays homage to Derek Walcott’s poem similarly titled “Another Life”. There are numerous other inspired poems, but would be too many to include here.
To me, going home’s beauty lies in its ability to encapsulate the styles and influences of numerous prolific writers and poets. This, among many reasons, is why I cherish it. Many poems follow a trend that pays homage to the rich tapestry of literary history with Chan’s own literary voice present. It's a delightful journey through various styles, making the collection a love letter to the diverse world of literature and poetry.
Jonathan hopes that those who read going home will be invited to ask themselves what belonging truly is to them. He hopes that it encourages readers to contemplate questions of truth, beauty, and justice. In this pursuit, he unequivocally succeeds. The collection not only resonates deeply with those who share similar immigrant experiences but acts as a universal narrative that touches the core of human existence. Chan's honest, almost autobiographical portrayal of the difficulties of change, coupled with his poetic muscle and literary prowess, creates a powerful and evocative reading experience.
Rating: 4.5/5
