Scattered Vertebrae
Math Paper Press — 2013
About
Is love born from duty, misplaced ideas of nobility or the thirst for dependence? Jerrold Yam's second poetry collection confronts the very act of creation, wrestling it from family, religion and sexuality—a triptych of forces that bears as much a promise for redemption as a capacity for cruelty and hurt.
Reviews
The Straits Times - “The recurring motif is the dichotomy between wholeness and brokenness, and that of creation and destruction, which the title - Scattered Vertebrae - bears out beautifully.”
OFZOOS Literary Journal - “Yet, despite the visceral nature of its emotions, Yam’s writing somehow remains measured, observant, mythic, and compassionate. This is brave stuff. So often confessional poetry aspires to wear its heart on its sleeve, but Yam calmly removes his clothes and invites the reader to gaze at the nudity of his poetry.”
Marie France - “10 must-read Singaporean books.”
Sidekick Books - “To read Scattered Vertebrae is to join with Yam as he wrestles, like Jacob with the angel at Penuel, and to watch this poet overcome.”
Cleaver Magazine - “Scattered Vertebrae is, at its core, a book of loaded poetry, driven by psychological, emotional and physical desire.”
“I don’t pretend to know why we are here” is the first line of Jerrold Yam’s second collection, written in the comet tail of his first. Do not expect any answers; between adolescent uncertainty and the fine edge of adulthood, Yam asks the questions we can hardly ask, relates the experiences we would rather ignore and articulates the impressions we never clarify. Do we love our families as much as we say? Why should we feel happy at a wedding? What did those boyish games of childhood really mean? And why should we be ashamed of lust? There is a narrative young people are supposed to accept about growing up, but it involves shutting your eyes to contradictions and the contrary experiences of people around you; Yam’s are fully open, and his gaze is sympathetic. He is young, prolific and smart enough to see that however deeply felt, however lyrical and sad, our own experiences are not, and can never be, the only truth.
— Jay Bernard, recipient of the Ted Hughes Award