It is easy to dismiss poetry as being disconnected from the human, the everyday, the useful; to deride it for being uppity, dense, or purposefully confusing. What is difficult is encountering the kind of poetry that makes the world clear. Li-Young Lee is a poet of clarity, even if that clarity is admitting to multiplicity and to wonder at the simplest, most difficult facts of life.
Born in Jakarta after his parents fled China, Lee is a poet of witness to exile, loss, family, love, and stitched through it all: the intimacy of faith. Whether that bond appears in his poetry between a father and son, a god and a human, or a body and the air around, Lee dares each of us to open our eyes wider to the world. There is nothing as divine as this life. There is nothing flawed that is not deserving of a poem. Author of six beloved poetry collections, a memoir, and a translation of the Dao De Jing, Lee is a poet whose voice has shaped generations of writers.
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It is easy to dismiss poetry as being disconnected from the human, the everyday, the useful; to deride it for being uppity, dense, or purposefully confusing. What is difficult is encountering the kind of poetry that makes the world clear. Li-Young Lee is a poet of clarity, even if that clarity is admitting to multiplicity and to wonder at the simplest, most difficult facts of life.
Born in Jakarta after his parents fled China, Lee is a poet of witness to exile, loss, family, love, and stitched through it all: the intimacy of faith. Whether that bond appears in his poetry between a father and son, a god and a human, or a body and the air around, Lee dares each of us to open our eyes wider to the world. There is nothing as divine as this life. There is nothing flawed that is not deserving of a poem. Author of six beloved poetry collections, a memoir, and a translation of the Dao De Jing, Lee is a poet whose voice has shaped generations of writers.
In September 2019, Malcolm Gladwell stepped on stage at Benaroya Hall as part of SAL’s Literary Arts Series to discuss his book Talking to Strangers. That night, his talk brought us into the complicated layers that underlie our most fraught and violent interactions.
The Los Angeles Times called Talking to Strangers “a compelling, conversation-starting read.” It’s a thoughtful and nuanced meditation on how we see others, and how we see the world. Like all of Gladwell’s work, brilliant storytelling and razor sharp-observations carry us to understand the world in new ways.
SAL/on air
It is easy to dismiss poetry as being disconnected from the human, the everyday, the useful; to deride it for being uppity, dense, or purposefully confusing. What is difficult is encountering the kind of poetry that makes the world clear. Li-Young Lee is a poet of clarity, even if that clarity is admitting to multiplicity and to wonder at the simplest, most difficult facts of life.
Born in Jakarta after his parents fled China, Lee is a poet of witness to exile, loss, family, love, and stitched through it all: the intimacy of faith. Whether that bond appears in his poetry between a father and son, a god and a human, or a body and the air around, Lee dares each of us to open our eyes wider to the world. There is nothing as divine as this life. There is nothing flawed that is not deserving of a poem. Author of six beloved poetry collections, a memoir, and a translation of the Dao De Jing, Lee is a poet whose voice has shaped generations of writers.
