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Reviews tagging 'Gun violence'
The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes on by Franny Choi
4 reviews
michaelion's review
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
tense
fast-paced
4.5
I've been feeling very hopeless / miserable lately and even just the first poem made me be like wow there really is hope for the future / humanity. I paid $28 for this book and it was worth it.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Murder, Racism, Rape, Sexual assault, Grief, Colonisation, Injury/Injury detail, Death, Violence, War, and Misogyny
Moderate: Death of parent, Gun violence, Police brutality, Hate crime, Pandemic/Epidemic, Injury/Injury detail, Physical abuse, Blood, Classism, and Genocide
Minor: Suicidal thoughts and Racial slurs
pabi's review
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
3.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Deportation, Racism, War, Colonisation, Death, Police brutality, Classism, Genocide, Grief, and Gun violence
Moderate: Suicide, Suicide attempt, and Suicidal thoughts
jayisreading's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.5
… and yet, the world keeps moving forward, despite its multiple endings. Choi pointedly reminds us that apocalypses have always been a part of our human history, but it happens to be that only certain populations are thrown into such catastrophe(s), while the rest of the world ignorantly (willful or not) continues on.
… and yet, despite the brokenness of this world, despite these ends, there is still something on the horizon to look forward to, a particular strength in surviving the end and living beyond it. So many of these poems are filled with grief and anger, but there lingers a burning hope for something more in Choi’s language. For those who have lived and/or are living through the apocalypse, their world continues on because there’s still so much to live for.
You are meant to grapple with the content of these poems, as well as sit with the emotions that come with these poems. This is a bit of a departure in tone and style from Choi’s previous works, but I think The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On reveals her incredible talent with form and language, as well as her ability to synthesize an array of ideas and concepts. There’s much to take away from this collection, especially living in the world we’re in today.
Some favorites: “The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On,” “Poem with an End in Sight,” “Science Fiction Poetry,” “Grief Is a Thing with Tense Issues,” “Unlove Poem,” “Dispatches from a Future Great-Great-Granddaughter,” and “Waste”
… and yet, despite the brokenness of this world, despite these ends, there is still something on the horizon to look forward to, a particular strength in surviving the end and living beyond it. So many of these poems are filled with grief and anger, but there lingers a burning hope for something more in Choi’s language. For those who have lived and/or are living through the apocalypse, their world continues on because there’s still so much to live for.
You are meant to grapple with the content of these poems, as well as sit with the emotions that come with these poems. This is a bit of a departure in tone and style from Choi’s previous works, but I think The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On reveals her incredible talent with form and language, as well as her ability to synthesize an array of ideas and concepts. There’s much to take away from this collection, especially living in the world we’re in today.
Some favorites: “The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On,” “Poem with an End in Sight,” “Science Fiction Poetry,” “Grief Is a Thing with Tense Issues,” “Unlove Poem,” “Dispatches from a Future Great-Great-Granddaughter,” and “Waste”
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racism, War, and Violence
Moderate: Death, Sexual violence, Colonisation, and Gun violence
Minor: Suicide and Police brutality
hilaryreadsbooks's review against another edition
4.0
[thank you Ecco Books for a gifted copy, out in November]
I read poetry like I chase feelings, eye them wearily because they shine an eerie copy of myself back at me like clouded-over mirrors. It is me, but not me. This grief is mine, but it is not mine. I live in a world like this, but it is only one among an infinite of worlds that have ended and continued on.
The world keeps ending, and the world (somehow) goes on. Franny Choi reminds us that even prior to this one, there have always been apocalypses. Colonialism. Imperialism. Enslavement and taking of bodies and lands. Individual grief and mourning. Some people have already been brought to the edge of catastrophe, thrust into a real dystopia that isn’t science fiction or even fiction. Some somehow continue to live in a world where their lives are not valued. Some did not survive. For these people, this type of ending world is not new. It is wearily familiar.
I feel in Franny’s poems anger, disbelief, grief. In: do you remember? In: do you even see us?
In: are you leaving us behind? Again? To return to your sheltered “normal”?
And yet somehow the world continues on for those who continue to sit at the tip of the end. I think of LOVE AFTER THE END, where Indigiqueer speculative fiction remind us that Indigenous people have always lived past the end. Somehow, “…we’re okay. Hurting but okay. We’re surviving, though it’s true, we don’t know what that means, exactly.” Fighting, protesting, loving. Somehow still dreaming.
I read poetry like I chase feelings, eye them wearily because they shine an eerie copy of myself back at me like clouded-over mirrors. It is me, but not me. This grief is mine, but it is not mine. I live in a world like this, but it is only one among an infinite of worlds that have ended and continued on.
The world keeps ending, and the world (somehow) goes on. Franny Choi reminds us that even prior to this one, there have always been apocalypses. Colonialism. Imperialism. Enslavement and taking of bodies and lands. Individual grief and mourning. Some people have already been brought to the edge of catastrophe, thrust into a real dystopia that isn’t science fiction or even fiction. Some somehow continue to live in a world where their lives are not valued. Some did not survive. For these people, this type of ending world is not new. It is wearily familiar.
I feel in Franny’s poems anger, disbelief, grief. In: do you remember? In: do you even see us?
In: are you leaving us behind? Again? To return to your sheltered “normal”?
And yet somehow the world continues on for those who continue to sit at the tip of the end. I think of LOVE AFTER THE END, where Indigiqueer speculative fiction remind us that Indigenous people have always lived past the end. Somehow, “…we’re okay. Hurting but okay. We’re surviving, though it’s true, we don’t know what that means, exactly.” Fighting, protesting, loving. Somehow still dreaming.
Content Warnings
Graphic: War and Violence
Moderate: Sexual violence and Gun violence
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