By Bernard Rowan
My column concerns the newly published volume of poems by Professor Choi Yearn-Hong, entitled "Snows of Kilimanjaro." I came to know Professor Choi through my senior, Professor Park Eung-kyuk, and of late we've collaborated on a few projects related to Korean history and culture, including the poetry of Yoon Dong-ju.
Choi's book of poems will appeal to Koreans, Americans, and many others. Its reflections mark a keen observer of our world and a humanitarian. The touching vignettes evoke more general meanings arising from episodes of his life. He and we learn from political events, creatures and scenes of nature, love and family, and events of daily living.
As I read these poems, I think of Professor Choi as representing Koreans of his generation. He is now a mature person, and he is aware of life's impermanence. Nonetheless, Choi tells us our world is one of unshakeable and positive value and beauty. Professor Choi is Korean, yet as an immigrant and now American citizen, as a Korean in America and a Korean American, he has lived international culture, politics, and society. Choi's poems show he cares both for his home country and his second home country.
I note that Choi shared the stage at the Library of Congress with the Poet Laureate of Illinois and the "Sin Saimdang" of my university, the late Gwendolyn Brooks. Choi's poem "Black Korean" shows us the universal face of humanity as one beyond color and ethnicity, but one that respects both in context.
I enjoyed poems such as "Splendor in the Mongolian Wilderness" and "Genghis Khan" that tell of his travels to other lands. It's moving to feel his spirit of humanity and love for others who are no longer other ― in simple moments, as through the giving of flowers. Many Koreans trace the origins of Korea to Mongolian people, and we know that Genghis Khan's progeny form much of the world's population.
Many poems mark the qualities of Korean civilization. These include reverence for elders, in particular his mother, memory of friendships with seniors and juniors, giving to one's children and family, and a life lived in pursuit of learning. "In the Library" and "Durano's Christmas Party" show the habits of a person of learning. We see Choi's gregariousness as well as poetic bent.
Choi's library extends to the world outside any library or building. He marvels in the presence of Nature and draws strength from its images, patterns, and fullness of color, texture, and life. I enjoyed the poems entitled "Winter Woods," "Firebug," "Canadian Geese" and "Wolf," for example. Choi finds affinity in nature. He supports human life through a harmony that overcomes dissonance, unhappiness, and feelings of futility or failure. "Sea Squirt" reveals the wonder that comes from good times spent sharing food and learning, which I have found to characterize friendships with Koreans and Korean life.
Choi's Korea remains with the horrible event that is the Korean War and its aftermath. Its impress came from flight during the war to safe havens, from life in Songdo. Honed through emigration to study in America, it became permanent on the heels of disillusionment with military dictators. Choi writes many poems for the downtrodden, dispossessed, the stranger, and the foreigner. He comments on American leaders and on the experiences of injustice under the law. He understands the value of democracy from within two countries.
As the volume progresses, Choi returns to images of his hometown in North Chungcheong Province ("Genealogy"). He shares moving scenes of caring for his mother ("Elegy I and II; Passing by the Oksoo Station"). He recalls his grandmother ("To You, My Precious Love, Moonlight Sonata"), his wife ("Honeymoon Haiku"), and other talismans of his life. In "Name," we learn Choi's father inspired his vocation as a poet.
Professor Choi's writing preserves humility in the presence of the universe through love of others and oneself. He tells us to learn about and to live life fully, not taking a moment for granted. He is a happy man sharing of his life's legacies with others. We aren't guaranteed an infinite amount of life on earth, but we have more than enough time if we care for life as we go. Choi's lamp of light reveals much for those who wish to live through learning for life.
Bernard Rowan (browan10@yahoo.com) is associate provost for contract administration and professor of political science at Chicago State University. He is a past fellow of the Korea Foundation and former visiting professor at Hanyang University.
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Choi's book of poems will appeal to Koreans, Americans, and many others. Its reflections mark a keen observer of our world and a humanitarian. The touching vignettes evoke more general meanings arising from episodes of his life. He and we learn from political events, creatures and scenes of nature, love and family, and events of daily living.
As I read these poems, I think of Professor Choi as representing Koreans of his generation. He is now a mature person, and he is aware of life's impermanence. Nonetheless, Choi tells us our world is one of unshakeable and positive value and beauty. Professor Choi is Korean, yet as an immigrant and now American citizen, as a Korean in America and a Korean American, he has lived international culture, politics, and society. Choi's poems show he cares both for his home country and his second home country.
I note that Choi shared the stage at the Library of Congress with the Poet Laureate of Illinois and the "Sin Saimdang" of my university, the late Gwendolyn Brooks. Choi's poem "Black Korean" shows us the universal face of humanity as one beyond color and ethnicity, but one that respects both in context.
I enjoyed poems such as "Splendor in the Mongolian Wilderness" and "Genghis Khan" that tell of his travels to other lands. It's moving to feel his spirit of humanity and love for others who are no longer other ― in simple moments, as through the giving of flowers. Many Koreans trace the origins of Korea to Mongolian people, and we know that Genghis Khan's progeny form much of the world's population.
Many poems mark the qualities of Korean civilization. These include reverence for elders, in particular his mother, memory of friendships with seniors and juniors, giving to one's children and family, and a life lived in pursuit of learning. "In the Library" and "Durano's Christmas Party" show the habits of a person of learning. We see Choi's gregariousness as well as poetic bent.
Choi's library extends to the world outside any library or building. He marvels in the presence of Nature and draws strength from its images, patterns, and fullness of color, texture, and life. I enjoyed the poems entitled "Winter Woods," "Firebug," "Canadian Geese" and "Wolf," for example. Choi finds affinity in nature. He supports human life through a harmony that overcomes dissonance, unhappiness, and feelings of futility or failure. "Sea Squirt" reveals the wonder that comes from good times spent sharing food and learning, which I have found to characterize friendships with Koreans and Korean life.
Choi's Korea remains with the horrible event that is the Korean War and its aftermath. Its impress came from flight during the war to safe havens, from life in Songdo. Honed through emigration to study in America, it became permanent on the heels of disillusionment with military dictators. Choi writes many poems for the downtrodden, dispossessed, the stranger, and the foreigner. He comments on American leaders and on the experiences of injustice under the law. He understands the value of democracy from within two countries.
As the volume progresses, Choi returns to images of his hometown in North Chungcheong Province ("Genealogy"). He shares moving scenes of caring for his mother ("Elegy I and II; Passing by the Oksoo Station"). He recalls his grandmother ("To You, My Precious Love, Moonlight Sonata"), his wife ("Honeymoon Haiku"), and other talismans of his life. In "Name," we learn Choi's father inspired his vocation as a poet.
Professor Choi's writing preserves humility in the presence of the universe through love of others and oneself. He tells us to learn about and to live life fully, not taking a moment for granted. He is a happy man sharing of his life's legacies with others. We aren't guaranteed an infinite amount of life on earth, but we have more than enough time if we care for life as we go. Choi's lamp of light reveals much for those who wish to live through learning for life.
Bernard Rowan (browan10@yahoo.com) is associate provost for contract administration and professor of political science at Chicago State University. He is a past fellow of the Korea Foundation and former visiting professor at Hanyang University.