From beginning to end, humorous irreverence abounds in Michael Chang’s latest collection of poetry, Toy Soldiers (2024). So, too, do figures from popular culture. So, too, do SMS language, startling lines, and images that linger long after the last page is turned. Beyond the content, though, the titles themselves intrigue and invite. More often than not, they lure. Titles like “Drone Opting Out of Hive,” “Shake That Bottled Lightning,” “Grow Up and Blow Away,” “This Hell is Better with You,” and “Meet Me Halfway, At Least.” Though Chang’s Toy Soldiers is anything but a quiet book, there are moments of introspection that stand out precisely because of the lively (though no less poetic) scenery within the rest of the poem.
In “New York City Cops,” for example, a piece in which the reader is abruptly dropped into a dizzying, almost stream-of consciousness, array of common adages and pop culture references (such as Powerpuff Girls and Walmart), the reader struggles to keep up with the pace in which the poem proceeds, only to be broadsided by the concluding line (much like the speaker is by the addressee’s reminder of the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Riots): “last time I checked tanks cannot travel across / water” (Chang 18). A stark contrast to the previous instances of irreverence (such as “‘we’re both too cute to pay for our own drinks’ leaving us stranded at the Townhouse’ irritable but for our tabs being picked up by Ashbery or Vidal (who can ever tell)),” the final line succeeds precisely because of the abrupt change in tone (ibid.). To be sure, “New York City Cops” is a playful poem. However, the piece is also quite serious. As with the other poems in Toy Soldiers, it is anything but insincere.
Likewise, in “Glorious Game,” a multi-page prose poem (or, put another way, a poetic critique of the United States Supreme Court and America’s legal system in general), irreverence also occurs (though perhaps to a lesser degree), offering much needed moments of respite from troubling political realities. Contrasting with the matter-of-fact (almost legalistic) opening line of the piece (“There are many problems with the Supreme Court today”), the tongue-in-cheek aside in the sentence a line away provides such relief: “Nonplussed about the private lives of politicians (how very French of us), our tolerance for the most ridiculous, illegal, immoral acts has increased” (italics mine) (ibid. 97). In interrupting the otherwise formal language that surrounds it, the line within the parentheses not only draws attention to itself because of the shift in linguistic register but mimics the speaker’s poetic intention: to rouse an otherwise indifferent readership from political apathy. In doing so, Chang shows themselves as skillful in the art of rhetoric (no doubt owing to their education and training as a lawyer) as they are in the art of poetry. Another example of such tonal hybridity occurs in the following paragraph:
From Clarence Thomas’s well-publicized gifts scandal to his wife’s nefarious comingling of private and public business (not to mention her insidious involvement in the January 6 coup attempt), the public has lost its appetite for Supreme Court scandal. And that’s only one justice !!! Like hearing your parents have sex, we endeavor to know as little as possible and to forget it even sooner. (emphasis mine) (ibid. 97)
Here, the linguistic register switches from Standard American English (“the public has lost its appetite ...”) to General American English (“And that’s only one justice!”), then back again (“we endeavor to know …”) (ibid.). More than that, though, such tonal hybridity both reflects and questions the unseemly entanglement of ethical/legal responsibilities and personal affairs (as in the case of Clarence Thomas’s violation of federal financial disclosure laws). Not only that but by using a sexual simile with which to critique Justice Thomas’s commingling of professional matters with private ones, Chang deliberately evokes the Anita Hill hearings (ones in which Thomas was accused of sexually harassing his then-assistant at the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission). Ever much the ethical writer, however, Chang is careful to conjure an image that avoids titillation/eroticism as fully and equally as coercion/violation (Either could turn the figure of speech inappropriate, given the allusion to Hill’s claims of sexual harassment against Thomas). Even so, Chang’s simile is ultimately and purposefully humorous. After all, what more fitting a metaphoric tenor is there to subvert the august image of a black-robed justice with as much legal authority as questionable morality than one’s unwelcome image of their parents having sex?
Ever the attorney by habit (if poet at heart), Chang includes excerpts from various legal rulings from the Supreme Court, such as Justice Elena Kagan’s dissent to the majority ruling in Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith, a 2023 case in which photographer Lynn Goldsmith claimed that artist Andy Warhol infringed on her copyright when he produced a series of colored silkscreens based on her 1981 picture of the musician Prince (7-2, the Court ruled in her favor). Narrating the landmark case, Chang offers refreshingly frank (if playful) commentary throughout: “... also a little tit-for-tat Justices Sotomayor and Kagan (incidentally both unmarried New Yorkers, as the tabloids often remind us) had going in dueling opinions,” “Kagan quickly disses Sotomayor (well, technically the majority opinion) ...” and “Dear reader, do you need first aid, because that’s a burn !!!” (ibid.) As with Chang’s other irreverent asides, their commentary not only critiques but subverts. Though admittedly playful (even concluding on a lyric from Taylor Swift’s 2022 song, “Anti-Hero”), Chang is nonetheless quite serious in their critique and subversion of America’s most widely respected legal institution (and perhaps, by extension, the United States system of law). Case in point, Chang’s penultimate verse paragraph: “So where do we stand on this—do we hurrah Warhol’s obvious artistic magnificence and impact or do we in fact pay the artist (in this case photographer) ??? The law makes things so difficult !!!” (ibid. 100) Here, the arguably excessive punctuation does indeed contrast with the grammatical expectations of legal writing (generally no exclamation points permitted except when part of quoted material and no questions marks or exclamation points in multiple succession except in reproductions of the original text). However, the excessive punctuation also reflects the political excesses of the Supreme Court (maybe American courts in general?). Additionally, the excessive punctuation reflects Chang’s refreshingly unapologetic attitudes toward the Court’s recent reactionary tilt. Finally, as grammatical overkill, the excessive punctuation attempts to rouse the reader out of their apathy. As should be clear, Chang knows what they’re doing and what they’re doing.
If you’re looking for a quick or light read, then skip Toy Soldiers (Though Michael Chang’s latest collection of poetry may not take long for you to get through, it will take a while to digest and appreciate). If, on the other hand, you’re seeking a collection of poetry that enlightens yet also startles, invites yet also implicates, affirms yet also questions, then pick up Toy Soldiers. Treat yourself to a blaze of legalese, pop culture references, social commentary, excerpts from legal rulings, song lyrics, and slices of life from someone as imaginative as they are skillful, as playful as they are precise. Just try to come away from Chang’s latest poetry collection uninformed, unimpressed, and unchanged. I dare you.