Mirror Nation

Blending journalism, memoir, and manifesto with photographs, maps, letters, and drawings, DMZ Colony comprises an imaginative and highly multimedia mode of accessing a space where human perspective is forbidden. In reality a restricted, literally marginal entity, the DMZ, in Choi’s hands, is like an accordion, expansive and multidimensional, even planetary in scale. —Jed Munson for Chicago Review of Books

Choi’s poetry is not bilingual but multilingual and increasingly multimedia, built of photography, film, drawings, handwritten letters, collage, and typographic play. The work is openly political, though Choi is modest about how honestly she came to her politics. —E. Tammy Kim for Poetry Foundation

DMZ wrestles with being a witness to oppression while not experiencing it directly, with creating art while borrowing the art of others. There is a hopefulness to her poetry, one that includes the possibility of transcendence and flight, but it is grounded in a deeply macabre reality. —Kion You for the Los Angeles Review

Choi’s hybrid structure allows her, in some sense, to have it both ways—to look at her subjects while simultaneously, and paradoxically, showing that some subjects are just too big to see in full: war, your parents’ life before and without you, your government and its decisions. —Kathleen Rooney, The New York Times Sunday Book Review

Formally, Don Mee Choi is an inheritor of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, whose seminal Dictee (1982) has had a major impact on contemporary innovative American poetry. Yet Choi innovates on Cha’s decades-old example. Choi’s work releases new-media energy; it moves at fiber optic speed as it struggles to find term  for our 21st century experience of globalized media, especially as such media affects our sense of history, commodity, violence, politics, terror, and freedom. —Joyelle McSweeney, Montevidayo

Don Mee Choi writes about violence and injustice in modalities that are neither sentimental, obvious, or pornographic. —Forrest Gander 

Her writing has showed me that discomfort is neither cruel nor condemnation, but a passageway towards freedom, or towards becoming feral, or freely frayed. —Christine Shan Shan Hou, Lit Hub