“After all that has happened, have you finally forgiven each other?”
Mary Jean Chan’s, Bright Fear, unforgivingly resurfaces imperishable wounds as she navigates the lingering generational trauma of being queer and Asian within a family and post-pandemic society who unflinchingly refuse to accept her authentic identity. Throughout the unforgettably intimate poetry collection, Chan confronts the microaggressions and marginalisation that weave into unexpecting everyday interactions, urging the reader to reconstruct society into an inclusive space for all to unapologetically be their true self. Nostalgia intertwines each poem, encompassed by a labyrinth of childhood memories, foreshadowing an impending doom that this relationship will never be as it once was.
I was profoundly moved by ‘After Twenty-One Days in Hotel Quarantine’, where Chan delves into her deeply rooted fear of death that manifests into all aspects of her life. Her refreshingly raw depiction will undoubtedly impact anyone who is similarly isolated with Anxiety, it devastatingly illustrates how it feels to grow into a life burdened with mourning for something that has not yet happened.
To navigate this collection is to be changed forevermore. Chan’s resilient healing journey bestows upon the reader the courage to confront the adversities of their own existence.
