Blog Week Five

I have chosen to blog on various poems by Mitsuye Yamada to give my take on the concept I believe the writings are attempting to portray.  Poetry has always been difficult for me in different aspects like what is the writer trying to convey, what is the point of the piece and sometimes I have even read a piece and sat there clueless altogether.  I guess what I am attempting to do here is attack a weakness I have in my own reading comprehension.  These are my reasons to blog on the poetry of Mitsuye Yamada.

Camp Notes and Other Writings

By Mitsuye Yamada

Curfew:  “In our area was a block head who told us what’s what in a warden’s helmet” (P 16).  The picture I paint by these words is a military clad personnel member scolding a child who would like to spend some of his/ her night reading.  I am led to believe that the night time has not even fallen completely “the barracks boards in the hot sun had shrunk slyly telling bars of light” (P 16).  I remember growing up and when my mom or dad would put me to bed shortly after night fall how upset I would be.  I believe the character in this piece is upset as well.

Desert Storm:  The first sentence of this poem lets me know how unsanitary the living situation was for the interned Japanese.  The narrator has expressed how the mess hall is situated right along the latrines, “Near the mess hall along the latrines…” (P 20).  The setup of the compound tells me that the interned were neglected and abused.

Inside News:  “We are we the enemy the enemy is the we” (P 21).  At the beginning of the passage the narrator is speaking about a small group huddled around a contraband radio listening to the progress of war efforts.  The announcer on the radio apparently expresses that “we” are losing the war and when the narrator internalizes this information reaches the conclusion that he/ she is American, but interned and finally concludes that “We are the we the enemy is the we.”  Another point that gets me is the radio is pointed out as contraband, maybe because it is used as a source of communication.  I believe that the radio being contraband helped the narrator determine that we are the enemy.

Cincinnati:  This poem saddens me to no end.  The amount of loneliness the relocated must have felt is beyond my comprehension.  The only person the narrator knows of is “…one hissing voice that said dirty jap warm spittle on my right cheek.” (P 32)  I am well aware of walking through

Government Square

in Cincinnati as a native to the area and it still makes me uncomfortable.  To be this person would have been horrendous in that he/ she is truly alone in the area without friends or family and it is designed to become home for this individual.

I have given my best effort in understanding the writings of Mitsuye Yamada.  Below I have attached a photograph of her.

Mitsuye Yamada