Cathy Song’s fourth collection of poetry unveils glimpses of the elusive but ever-present power of wisdom and compassion. Recognizing that we have the ability to create our own misery as well as our own bliss, she finds the unexpected in broken lives, despair, and even seemingly joyous occasions. Song’s poems are often, like a handful of water, "cold and impossibly / clear, unlike anything / you’ve ever held before." A Hawaiian native and daughter of a Chinese orphan, Song writes culturally fascinating work that at its best displays a superb mastery of craft. In her fourth collection (her first, Picture Bride, won the Yale Younger Poets Award in 1983), she magnificently intertwines the harsh reality of her aging parents (including a mother frequently hospitalized for depression) with memories of her grandparents. Past and present converge along with the belief in an afterlife that is Song's ancestral heritage: "Dying is what we do, and do/ so well we weep and drink and let/ things fall into cracks." But despite containing some of the finest long poems this reviewer has read in recent memory, this volume is uneven. When Song strays too far from autobiography, as in "White Ashes" or "The Sister," the speaker is lost to us, and the poems become shrouded in mystery. Set within this weighty context, some of the shorter pieces seem trivial. But despite these flaws, the entire second section of this work is strong enough to highly recommend it for all libraries. Rochelle Ratner, formerly with "Soho Weekly News," NY Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc. In Cathy Song's poetry I keep recognizing my own various approaches to and avoidances of the writing job: the just claims which keep me from it, my need to hide my meaning at the same time as I reveal it, the need to go, 'deeper into the darkest room,' trying to reach 'the core of something permanent,' and what always accompanies that need—'distraction itself . . . obstacles to keep her from entering the last room,' wanting and not wanting to arrive there. . . . Houses and the imagery of houses—doors, curtains, kitchens, windows, rooms—are important in Song's work. I am tempted to think this is a natural outcome of a female take on experience, though maybe it's only my own desire for security and shelter. ― Phyllis Hoge To read poems as true on the tongue and the eye as these is a deep, transcendent sweetness. I feel transported, restored to gravity-ground, melodious mind. ― Naomi Shihab Nye To follow Cathy Song's collection of poems over the years is to reach, in this season, 'The Expense of Mildew'; from daughter, to wife and mother, to the daughter of aging parents, Song has arrived full spiral. This is bliss. ― Kimiko Hahn Song writes culturally fascinating work that at its best displays a superb mastery of craft...she magnificently intertwines the harsh reality of her aging parents (including a mother frequently hospitalized for depression) with memories of her grandparents. ― Library Journal In a collection displaying mastery of language and imagery, Cathy Song's 'The Land of Bliss' explores with often painful clarity the yin and yang of living our humanity. ― Honolulu Star Bulletin Cathy Song ... is rapidly becoming a major poet. Her new poems have a genuine hard edge as she explores the multicultural voices of Hawaii. ― Isthmus In its entirety, 'The Land of Bliss' actively reformulates received notions of culture (dominant and 'minority') as well as of language. . . .Song's powers of description, as well as her range of poetic rhythms . . . enable her to fully integrate the autobiographical, the social, and the spiritual enlightenment in the form of compassion. ― American Book Review The fourth collection from an award-winning poet that examines our ability to create our own misery and our own happiness. Cathy Song is the author of four previous books of poetry: Picture Bride, winner of the Yale Younger Poets prize; Frameless Windows, Squares of Light; School Figures; and The Land of Bliss. The Land of Bliss By Cathy Song University of Pittsburgh Press Copyright © 2001 Cathy Song. All rights reserved. ISBN: 0-8229-5770-1 Chapter One Pokanini Girl Pokanini girl, she so skinny! Pokanini girl, wear size two bikini. When she lie down, she flat like one penny. No can tell da front from da back. Where stay her okole? Pokanini girl, she so frail! No can do nutting, no can even pound one nail. She so white! Her skin so pale! When she take one bath, her tan wash off jes l'dat! Hard fo hit when we play dodgeball. Pokanini girl, her shadow so small! Always in da corner, stay daydream. She one loser. We no like her on our team. She so weak! No can shout. Ho da pipsqueak! Her mouth try open but nutting come out. Her madda stay worry. Her fadda stay broke. No mo vitality, everyting stay choke. Pokanini girl! Come on, no be l'dat. No be scared, Pokanini girl Nobody going hurt you