‘Synthetic Jungle’ Review: An Experiment Gone Awry

Michael Chang activates readers’ imaginations with “Synthetic Jungle,” a collection of poetry that defies convention. Ambitious in its genre-bending forms, their poems span topics from queer sexuality to contemporary politics, with a voice that jumps between sardonic and playful tones. These dynamic shifts are entertaining and witty. Unfortunately, the collection often exhibits an exaggerated and parodic style, veering into a performative hyperbole that can feel inauthentic.

While “Synthetic Jungle” is sometimes overwrought, the collection must be praised for its experimental quality. The inventive uses of typography allude to modernist free form poets such as E.E. Cummings to create moments that push the boundaries of poetry. Chang liberally incorporates this unique formatting: Dotted lines separate each line of “Caducity,” while poems like “Polar Bears in Little Italy” and “Muscles” are formatted as footnotes. The poem “Equal or Lesser Value” takes the form of an album tracklist, with each stanza formatted as the title of a song. These bold choices give the poems and the overall collection a refreshing, novel quality.

These typographic choices are complemented by equally daring language. In a mocking commentary of internet speech in the current era of incessant online communication, Chang’s poems make use of short forms like “u”, “coz” and “w/o” in a way that makes the poems read less seriously. Even the authority of the traditional lyric “I” is downplayed using the uncapitalized, colloquial “i” familiar to avid text messengers. As referenced in the collection’s oxymoronic title “Synthetic Jungle,” Chang’s collection reflects on the non-traditional, current-day communication.

Ultimately, these casual language choices make the collection’s discussions of serious matters such as queer self-love and cultural celebration feel interactive and engaging.

“guys always want u to take their load but have they ever stopped to consider (!!!)/ what a heavy burden it is to carry,” Chang writes.

These lines simultaneously touch on queer hypersexualization and its negative impacts on self-worth while preserving humor. Chang uses the collection to continue to defy traditional poetry by using chinese phrases such as “想念你的每个角度'' that are included without translation. Chang places the onus on non-chinese-speaking readers to derive their own translations — a radical act that decenters the anglophile gaze.

However, the collection falters in its overreaching commitment to this experimental quality. While the formatting of the poems presents an interesting departure from traditional forms, some of these choices feel driven by novelty rather than literary consideration.

In “Homeschool Prom King,” Chang underlines almost every word. This typography comes across as a gimmick rather than a substantial, meaningful choice.

The language itself also takes on this gimmicky quality, with multiple instances of diction that rely on grating shock value. Lines like “make me really feel it like JFK” or “i hate linen it’s so wobbly & indecisive & lacking in substance like zayn’s foreskin” are so jarringly gratuitous that they take attention away from the rest of the poem. It may be difficult for readers to read on after encountering such a distasteful line.

Even when not blatantly shocking, the poems often rely on cliche and figurative language that lack emotional impact. The poem “My Forever Person” features only three lines. Chang writes, “VOICE KINDA STRANGLED / I GUESS U HAD TO BE THERE / FOR SELFISH REASONS”.

The reader may feel confused by what feels to be more similar to an angsty diary entry than a piece of poetry. Lines such as “i take care of u pasta salad / the stumbling block i look forward to” from Chang’s poem entitled “Teacher’s Pet” exhibit a similar lack of context that results in confusion.

Ultimately the language choices in “Synthetic Jungle” fail to push this poetry beyond a repeating series of parodies. Moments of beauty like “i eat busily between ur legs / all-encompassing, so vantablack” and “strange what you remember / the lillies / a clap of thunder” are overshadowed by the collection’s relentless dedication to shock-factor. The collection feels overbearingly avant-garde, as the poems seem to be vessels for experimentation rather than an attempt to express emotion to the reader.

—Staff writer Sean Wang Zi-Ming can be reached at sean.wangzi-ming@thecrimson.com.