A heart-wrenching collection of poetry that covers living through war, immigrating to a new country, and trauma (both past and present). A lot of emotions were explained through passages describing food, which I found to be incredibly effective. Everyone eats food and has their own unique traditions surrounding cooking and dining, so it's a universal experience. Even if your personal experiences with food are not exactly the same, it's an easy language to empathize with. Many of the themes also centered around being female during war/after immigrating, which added an extra layer to the collection. Overall, I found it very powerful and effective in portraying an important story.

Thank you to the publisher, University of Nebraska Press, for sending me a digital ARC of this book via NetGalley.

Although I very much appreciate the opportunity to have read Some Are Always Hungry, I unfortunately did not particularly enjoy the experience. I would have to say that it just “wasn’t my thing”.

Being someone who loves food (Korean food in particular), I found the idea of using food as an anchor in poems with themes ranging from immigration to womanhood to survival to be more than intriguing. However, I failed to connect with the majority of the poems featured here. There were very few that seized my attention or made me stop and think. I did not find myself re-reading anything to soak in the beauty of a line; the poems failed to evoke any emotion in me.

While the book of poetry is a short, quick read, it is unfortunately not one that I would find myself recommending. Again, it may be a 10/10 for someone else, but it was just not my cup of tea.

I really enjoyed these poems. Yun blends violence against women and colonization with discussions of food (and lack of), creating vivid and powerful imagery. She discusses immigration and trauma and explores them through recipes and names. My favorite poem was 'Menstruation Triptych', and I look forward to reading more from this author!

Powerful poems about war, refugees, immigration, and above all family. All around amazing structure, language, and emotional intensity. Will be returning to these poems again. Some of the forms were also creative, like 'War Soup':

Ingredients
*Pork Belly
*Anchovy Broth
*Instant noodles
*Onion
*Garlic
*Spam
*Hot pepper paste
*American Cheese
*Kimchi

1. In eight cups of boiling water, add dried kelp and anchovy, soaked shitake mushrooms and onion tops to make a broth. Grind four cloves of garlic together with hot pepper paste, soy and sugar for seasoning. Set the mixture aside for later.

2. Onion carpeted in pork fat and rice wine flared, very briefly, an ignited landscape. Then sun-dried pepper flakes staining the oil, a sundry of roots tossed in at rough dice, zucchini cut to half-moons, halved and quartered heads of kimchi. The stock should not disappoint, heavy with anchovy and odd bits. Set it all to boil, no witness, low heat.

3. We’ve not long been able to afford this: life giving flesh, singed wire hair that remembers outhouse and apple core. The fat ripples its own horizon, studded white over pink meat, cartilage wedged there where the muscle gathers. Cut the slabs into mince, light those dented pots.

4. Dear family I left behind
in the northern province of my birth,
do you live as I feed and am fed
have they given you to sea?

5. Then Spam, more tofu than animal, cut to cubes. Say, we made do with what we did. At the bases, the Americans gave cans of beans or meat. We weren’t picky, boiled it all with weeds and scraped carcass. We called it Johnson-tang, rejoiced like we’d never again need to eat, as if the miles were no real thing. Now chili, now green onion sprigs.

6. The northern village of my birth, a storm crushed window. The gaunt faces of my people parade the TV screen; dear lord, dear leader.

7. Let the noodles wilt
over broth just before serving.
At the table, over kerosene flame,
three generations tend to the pyre
that feeds and feeds.

What a blessing,
to have passed through hunger.
I will teach my daughters
to bare their palms.
I will teach them how to beg.

Some Are Always Hungry by Jihyun Yun

Yun's debut book of poetry uses food, hunger, and the rituals around them to tell a story about war, immigration, and second-generation unease with verve and novelty. The framing surprised me in how effectively it worked, how broad a range of metaphors she was able to deploy. From food as love to food as debasement, from the delight of a homecooked dish to the cruelty of slaughter, Yun's poems span so many facets of hunger and eating that I was astonished to keep discovering new ways to understand a familiar story.

Yun's poems describing the deprivation experienced by her grandparents during the Korean war and the everyday humiliations and challenges experienced by her mother as a new immigration are particularly effective; they are rich with detail and wise with perspective.

I found Yun's use of visceral imagery, almost savage in their precision and sparing no one, particularly affecting, as are her vivid and loving descriptions of the ingredients used in Korean cooking. The poems set up as recipes (or reverse recipes) are clever in their form, but what will stay with me are the indelible images: a broth of leftovers boiled white, a pig's dismembered head, a table laden with foods that are inedible to mainstream America but are still only comfort, only nourishment, only the things you crave.

<b>A raw and stunning poetry collection, which has won the Prairie Schooner Book Prize in Poetry. Powerful poems which I'll be thinking about for a long time.</b>

This collection by Jihyun Yun is inter-generational, with most poems focussed on grandmother, mother or daughter, and weaved in with Korean folklore. Some of the poems are set during the Korean War, others are on life in America as an immigrant. Hunger in some poems relates to food (or lack of), while others speak of love or longing for Korean traditions. In many of the poems, the line between food and the female body is blurred to reflect misogyny, consuming of females, or dangers of womanhood. The first poem, <i>All Female</i> is a perfect start to what is at times a harrowing collection, and sets the major themes of food, culture, and womanhood perfectly--why it is usually the female of a species who is cooked and eaten? The language of this poem is visceral, and matches the rhythms of women pulling apart female sea creatures while preparing food. It is clear from this poem just how good this collection will be, and the rest of the book does not disappoint.

<i>Some Are Always Hungry</i> doesn’t tell a linear story as such, but there is a cohesiveness which ties the poems together. Spanning about seventy years--from life before and within a war-torn Korea, through to life as a Korean-American--different forms of hunger, suffering, and cultural identity are explored, often through the lens of food. It is more of a sweeping story which touches on moments from each generation, until the final poem rounds the collection off in a way which is both haunting and satisfying. I read the book in one sitting, but it could equally be enjoyed in smaller chunks. Each poem is powerful enough to stands on its own.

My favourite poems are All Female; For Now, Nothing Burns; Field Notes from My Grandparents; Homonyms; The Daughter Transmorphic; Saga of the Nymph and the Woodcutter; The Tale of Janghwa and Hongryeon; Menstruation Triptych; Savaging; Revisitations; The Leaving Season; and Reversal.

The poems are often heavy in theme, and brutal in their depictions. They cut right to the meat of issues, and there are some difficult subjects: violence, abuse, death, starvation, powerlessness. I cried several times reading this. These subjects are handled well--powerful, blunt yet lyrical. Suffering is balanced by family love, belonging, and heritage, and these shifts are all the more beautiful in context of the darkness.

Aside from the raw lyricism of the collection as a whole, of note are the couple of poems which are in the form of a recipe. These poems in particular speak of respect for elders and heritage, as well as a feeling of loss and displacement in a country not particularly open to other cultures.

Overall, this poetry collection is a great choice for a viewpoint on war and immigration, womanhood, and the importance of food (both culturally and in order to survive). Five stars, but be warned that it is a harrowing read at times, with poems which don't shy away from violence or suffering.

<i>"At the end of this story,
I walk into the sea
and it chooses
not to drown me."</i>

Thank you to University of Nebraska Press and NetGalley for providing an Advance Review Copy, which I have reviewed voluntarily and based on my own opinion.

This poetry collection is about the realities of war, immigration, assimilation, and being a woman through it all. There were a few poems that really stuck out to me (I can't remember the titles): one about menstrual cycles, the pressure immigrants have to assimilate then get mocked for it, and one listing all the food that is seen as "gross" by western society but is craved. This is definitely a situation of it's not you, it's me. I did enjoy this collection but it took me until about halfway through to really get into it. A lot of the earlier poems went right over my head. I'm not sure if it was the ebook I got or it's just the way the formatting was but it was hard to tell where one poem was started and ending. This is a collection I want to revisit and really go through slowly.

This book was a delight to read. It was lush, gorgeous, and bound by love. I wanted to read more poems Yun. I want to read everything she's ever written and everything she's going to write. This collection, aside from its beauty and it capsule-like quality, is also a lesson in witnessing and in capturing.

First of all, it must be said that I am incredibly hard to please with poetry. All too often I find poetry contrived and hard to empathise with. Thankfully, I did not have that problem with Some Are Always Hungry.

In the very first page, Yun’s words grab you by the jugular and refuse to let go.

The imagery throughout is striking, relentless and raw, and often uncomfortable. Food, or the lack thereof, is the central imagery of this anthology (about immigration, cultural assimilation and trauma, and the impact of heritage); and Yun does not leave the reader hungry. The words come crawling through the page, scuttling into your mind and refusing to be contained in physical form only. Many of these poems lingered on in my memory even after finishing the collection.

The poems have an erratic order which I actually appreciated as it reflected the unstable nature and mindsets the characters find themselves in. Ancestors impact the present-day protagonists in the poems, so it makes complete sense for their own poems to constantly take hold. Also, many of the poems are set in the past but feel timeless. The human fight for survival and sustenance is a constant. This anthology will likely never age.

I therefore recommend Some Are Always Hungry but be warned: it is not an easy or happy read, but it is worth it.

Review: Some Are Always Hungry by Jihyun Yun.
Winner of the Prairie Schooner Book Prize in Poetry, Some Are Always Hungry chronicles a family’s wartime survival, immigration, and heirloom trauma through the lens of food, or the lack thereof.

This collection is certainly unforgettable, in how it uses language and metaphor to deliver imagery that is second to none. 'The Leaving Season' is a great example of how the author uses food and imagery as a way of portraying human emotion as she uses the example of a pig, and though somewhat uncomfortable I was, the use of the imagery was incredible and made you able to understand what the writer was trying to deliver, it leaves you with food for thought.

There there are the moments in this collection that are powerful and leave an impact. Lines in these poems that just leave you left with the story that is being told. In particular, 'Grandmother, Praying' in particular comes to mind, with 'The Leaving season'. It is lines such as “Sun, in this life, I will be your daughter And you will teach me how to run” that just pack a punch and leave you provoked for a long time after you have read it.

An excellent collection of poetry that is clever and thought-provoking, I'm glad I got the opportunity to read it.

(I received an ARC from Netgalley for honest review).

Thank you to University of Nebraska Press for providing me with an E-ARC through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review!

I really did not have any expectations going into "Some Are Always Hungry" by Jihyun Yun. However, I knew that it was poetry, and I sometimes struggle with poetry, so I was weary. Understandably so, because I truly did not understand what I had just read when I finished it.

After reading some reviews, I understood that "Some Are Always Hungry" is a super short poetry collection that tells the story of immigration, food, culture, abuse, womanhood, racism, among other topics. However, I was not able to notice and understand what the author was trying to say about these topics in her poems, and honestly, that's probably my fault. Understanding and analyzing poetry has never been my strong suit. Because of my confusion, and therefore lack of enjoyment while reading this, I have to give it a 2/5-star rating. Nevertheless, that rating is entirely subjective and due to my dumb brain. I definitely realize I am in the minority, as a lot of people have seemed really love this book.

If you are an avid poetry reader and lover, I would definitely recommend picking this up. It covers important topics, and I can recognize that the writing is beautiful. Yet if you are easily confused by poetry like me, I might suggest you steer clear of this one, which is absolutely no fault of the author.

Jihyun Yun is a Korean American poet. Her poetry is not straightforward, yet it has an immediacy and rawness that demands your attention.

The imagery is stark at times, metaphors can be brutal. It pulls no punches and doesn't avoid difficult subjects. Women likened to meat. Violation. The onset of puberty. War and its aftermath. Hunger not just about food. Desperation. Family relationships. Separation and new beginnings.

There is a lot of analogy with food preparation and some poems even give recipes. Some things had to be looked up as I am not familiar with Korean cuisine.

A selection of imagery from the poems:

'a fevered petal hung on the hurt of daybreak'

‘bellies swelled like winter melons split too soon from a vine’

‘Our tongues boiled down to language, broth skimmed of birth fat.’

‘Back then, we weren’t made for tenderness, though swathed in summer we fooled ourselves.’

‘Azalea and baby’s breath drop petals on the nightstand like fly’s eggs.’

‘the slow arc of a dust-bloodied moon illuminating garbage’

Some poems struck me more immediately than others, but all are worth reading. There are many layers and much to consider. As with all poetry, you impose your own interpretation, which may or may not concur with the poet's.

I will be interested to see what direction Jihyun Yun's poetry takes next.

I was sent an advance review copy of this book by the University of Nebraska Press, in return for an honest appraisal.

There is no better way to get to know someone than by sharing food. In the poetry collection “Some are Always Hungry” Jihyun Yun captures this intimacy brilliantly through her poetry. Yun tells of her experience as a Korean-American through recipes and flashbacks of eating, preparing and even struggling without food. Not only does Yun discuss her specific experiences, she also explores the generational exposition of her family and their experience with immigration, war and survival. She effortlessly ties all these different conflicts to the theme of food, showing it’s ability to transcend beyond other aspects of culture, like language and text. The writing is so detailed in imagery (I can practically taste it.) My favorite piece “Fish Head Soup” showcases Yun’s meticulous skills and the valuable outcome of wordplay. Definitely recommend giving this collection a read, especially if you have a craving for reading about Asian American resilience.

Today I am #reading: Some Are Always Hungry by Jihyun Yun (@jihyun.o.yun). This left me hungry for more. Filled with family, history, discovery and masterful storytelling. Beautiful use of language with hard-hitting truths and stunning imagery.

The cover of this book is beautiful and the premise seems interesting. However, when I started reading it, my experience was different altogether. It's strange and eerie and made me uncomfortable. I don't know if I'd recommend it to anyone. It's full of details that are raw and gory that might make one feel sad and cringe at times. The parallels drawn between women and different things are truly worthy of appreciation.

Some Are Always Hungry gives insight into Korean history and food. It also brings up issues that are relevant in other parts of the world: “The skin curls beneath the paring knife’s persuasion, as I think of colonization via inheritance of memory. These words I’ve no reason to know but do.”
Within this poetry collection, you’ll find many beautiful poems that both read like a description of historical events – scenes from someone’s life – and recipes. They show human nature, though mostly the worst of it. Even in these short poems, Jihyun Yun can make the unnamed characters come to life. You feel for them, but you also sympathize with the food. The speaker is the recipient of harm from those who have more societal power, yet she also inflicts harm on powerless creatures. She wrestles with the consumption of her body, as well as the ethics of her own consumption and hunger. This nuanced portrayal of morality gives rise to a second key question: How do people live in the messy aftermath of survival? The poems in this book answer this question with accounts of both submission and cruelty. Some Are Always Hungry resists offering a clean-cut path or reconciliation, but instead realistically hovers in the unsettling space between anguish and peace.

The author uses food and recipes to talk about issues like survival and womanhood during the Korean War. This is a bold idea that the poet executes beautifully in this heartbreaking, honest collection of poems.

This is an extremely beautiful and visceral exploration of womanhood, food, violence, and immigration and I really enjoyed it. I don't often read a lot of poetry, but Jihyun Yun's words are powerful and dense (in a good way) and it's one I'll definitely read more than once. A very talented poet.

Thank you to University of Nebraska Press and Netgalley for the ARC.

Thank you very much for the ARC.

A very beautifully written poetry collection that packs so much in such a short read. A poignant look on immigration, poverty, hope, self-expression and food.

Thank you to #NetGalley for providing a copy of this poetry collection. Looking at the Korean experience through war, occupation, immigration and integration, this multigenerational vision uses food and hunger to bring everything together. The visceral imagery was compelling and I was left hoping that the author might consider, one day, writing a full memoir of their family experience over the last 100 years. Combining poetry and prose poetry, this collection is hard hitting, creative, beautiful, sad, sickening and also, on occasions, made me hungry.