Sun Yung Shin’s first book of poetry weaves the loss of her native country, culture and language and the unique perspective of her upbringing in a Polish-Irish-German Catholic family in Chicago into a labyrinthine collage of poetic longing. KoreAm caught up with Shin while she was in Korea to speak at the International Korean Adoptee Association’s annual gathering.

 

Can you explain the title of your book?

The title comes from one of the poems, and it refers to the image of black letters pouring into a woman’s skirt as she’s typing for work. I also thought it might evoke themes of gender, performance and sexuality.

Is there a theme to your poetry?

It represents my initial exploration of what it means for me to be a Korean woman living in the U.S. in this historical moment. It is also about my particular form of migration: post-Korean War inter-country adoption.

What was your inspiration for using Hangeul in the fifth chapter of your book?

I was inspired by the way Hangeul is supposed to mimic, in some cases, the human mouth during speech articulation. It was a kind of catharsis, to release myself momentarily from the shame of not being a native speaker of Korean — to approach the language as a kind of aesthetic system, something both erotic and elusive.

Was there a particular turning point when you began to think critically about transnational adoption?

A big turning point was my collaboration with Jane Jeong Trenka as we began to put together Outsiders Within: Writing on Transracial Adoption. But my adoptive mother has always been very specific about the difference between my nationality and ethnicity.

What do you hope to accomplish with this book? 

I tried to make some beautiful things out of a lot of grief.