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Note: This novel was WINNER of the Independent Foreign Fiction Award and the Nelly Sachs Prize in 2003, when it was published in Sweden.  In 2010, Per Olov Enquist was WINNER of the Swedish Academy Nordic Prize, the “little Nobel.”

“They see me as a father who must not be disturbed. They play at my feet and they hear the scratching of my pen, and they whisper.” –Dr. Johann Friederiche Struensee, commenting on the behavior of eighteen-year-old King Christian, his page, and his schnauzer dog, while the doctor works.

Palace intrigue of the highest order, conducted by courtiers and officials who will do anything to achieve their goals, makes this novel by Swedish author Per Olov Enquist both stimulating and thoroughly engrossing, and few who read it will fail to notice the similarities of the “normal” behavior one sees between these courtiers in their time and place and those “aides” or sycophants who surround other leaders of other countries in other times. The Danish court from 1768 – 1772 pulses with life as powerful personalities collide in their rush to fill the power vacuum resulting from the weakness of King Christian VII, a sensitive, half-mad 17-year-old boy, who married the innocent and unsuspecting Princess Caroline Mathilde, the 15-year-old sister of Britain’s King George III, just two years before the novel opens.

These are years of great intellectual ferment as the powerful new ideas of the Enlightenment, with their value on the individual and freedom, begin to threaten the feudal basis of the old, autocratic monarchies of Europe, and more frightening to the courtiers, their own power within their countries. The American Revolution against England is only a few years away, and the French Revolution by its own people will happen only a few years after that.  Enquist brilliantly recreates the psychology of the sickly king, a puppet who desperately wants to please the courtiers and officials and is tormented when he does not, a bright but “ravaged child,” who from his earliest years was regularly flogged, ridiculed, beaten for casual conversations, forcibly separated from everyone with whom he developed attachments, shamed, and driven mad by his own courtiers.

When the young king becomes interested in the enlightened ideas of Voltaire and Diderot and is celebrated by these philosophers on a trip around the continent, his nervous and threatened court decides he needs a physician to disabuse him of these “follies.”  What they never expect is that the physician they engage, Johann Friedrich Struensee from Germany, will quickly establish a strong and genuinely caring relationship with Christian, share his enlightened ideas, and eventually become the de facto king and lover of the young queen Caroline Mathilde.

Bursting with dramatic scenes of Machiavellian court intrigue and the courtiers’ well-justified fear of the Enlightenment, the novel also includes powerfully moving descriptions of the deliberate psychological abuse of Christian VII.  These scenes contrast with other instances of tenderness, passion, love, and genuine sadness, as the author turns the royal personages, courtiers, their allies, and Dr. Struensee into real people. Though the reader knows from the opening pages what the outcome of the court struggles will be, Enquist manages to endow this turmoil with an immediacy and tension which totally engage the reader, clearly illustrating the rage for power and the lengths some will go to gain and keep it.  Few who read this novel will fail to recognize the common traits shown by powerful but desperate people, regardless of country, era, or the nature of the issues they are facing.

By focusing on the court, rather than on the populace itself, for his point of view, the author brings the Enlightenment and the revolutions it inspires throughout Europe to new life from a new perspective, and in creating this novel based on history, he brings to life both the sad and abused child-king Christian, and Struensee, the enlightened but politically naïve mentor forced to pay the ultimate price.

Note: Readers who become interested in this story will find in Wikipedia a wealth of additional information bringing the story of Christian VII, and especially that of the now nearly unknown Caroline Mathilde to its dramatic conclusion a few years after this novel ends.

Photos, in orderThe author’s photo by Anders Roth/SR Bild is from http://sverigesradio.se

The portrait by Dr. Johann Struensee appears on http://www.skoletjenesten.dk/

Caroline Mathilde, the young Queen, is shown here: http://en.wikipedia.org

King Christian VII, with his crown resting on the table beside him, is seen on http://en.wikipedia.org

This book has been made into an opera, garnering rave reviews in Copenhagen and elsewhere.  Here is the trailer:

“I’m a little prairie flower,
Growing wilder by the hour – flower – hour-
Nobody cares to cultivate me – mee – mee – mee
So-o I’m as wild as wild can bee – bee- be,” Miss Peabody sings in the bath, after reading a new letter written to her by novelist Diana Hopewell.

Dorothy Peabody, a spinster who has been working at a dead-end office job for thirty-five years, spends her life “smiling brightly all day at the office and being endlessly patient with her [bed-ridden] mother every evening.” Her mother, constantly complaining, seems to have some sort of mystical ability to know what is happening downstairs at night when Dorothy returns from work, asking from upstairs whether Dotty has dusted the mantelpiece, whether the tinned soup is in the right order, or if, heaven forbid, Dorothy has to get up in the night, whether she has remembered to switch off the light. Occasionally, after a difficult day, Dorothy relaxes at night by allowing herself two teaspoonfuls of brandy stirred into her warm milk.

The timid Dorothy’s life changes dramatically when she takes the unusual step of writing to Diana Hopewell, an Australian author whose book Angels on Horseback was “so moving and sad that [Dorothy] was unable to read the ending for a long time.” She comments further that “the loneliness and the harshness of the Australian countryside fitted exactly with [her] own feelings.” When the author writes back, asking her some questions about her life, Dorothy Peabody’s responses lead her to experience a new secret life, a life she guards jealously and which she shares with no one, especially her mother.

Author Elizabeth Jolley, whose portraits of elderly characters are unparalleled in their sensitivity and in the sly amusement she brings to their creation, gives life to Dorothy Peabody – or as much life as this quiet, fearful, and unimaginative woman can be said to possess, until that moment in which her life suddenly takes wing through her ongoing correspondence with author Diana Hopewell. Jolley also creates additional, vibrant and often surprising characters, also middle-aged single women, who are the protagonists of the new novel-in-progress which Diana Hopewell shares in her correspondence with Miss Peabody. As the point of view moves back and forth between Miss Peabody’s life in Weybridge, outside of London, and Hopewell’s novel-in-progress, which takes place in a polite boarding school in western Australia, Elizabeth Jolley keeps the humor and surprise at a high level, while also commenting on the nature of writing and the role of the novelist.

Dr. Arabella Thorne, a “person” whom Dorothy Peabody comes to know well though the correspondence, has been the headmistress of Pine Heights, a school for young ladies, for many years. Miss Thorne shares her apartment with Miss Edgely, a typist who “now inclines to make silly little mistakes. Not so long ago she put a C where a P should have been and left out an L and an E” for a paper going to a journal of higher education, leaving the article to read “the copulation in the pubic schools is increasing at an alarming rat.” Miss Thorne’s friend Miss Snowdon, the matron of Queens Hospital, is also a frequent visitor, and she, Miss Thorne, and Miss Edgeley, enjoy traveling together. When Miss Thorne, feeling sad for a student who will be left behind during a long vacation, invites this student to accompany the threesome on a trip through Europe, the full nature of the women’s relationship and its complications become clear.

The story of Miss Thorne’s trip through Europe is, for Miss Peabody, both shocking and revelatory, frightening and very enticing. Her own eyes are opening to a world she has never suspected, and new feelings are being aroused through fiction, not through anything in her real life. It is not long before she begins to make some dramatic changes in her own life, experimenting with alcohol, paying less attention to her mother, and essentially, becoming part of the life of Pine Heights run by her by now “good friend,” Dr. Thorne, and her other “friends” in Australia. Fate conspires, as it does in most novels, to change Miss Peabody’s “real” life in dramatic ways, as she becomes more and more dependent upon Diana Hopewell, the author. The conclusion has twists guaranteed to bring a satisfied smile to all readers.

With her wry, often poignant descriptions, and the ability to reveal her characters’ deepest yearnings through subtle and beautifully developed scenes and dialogue, Elizabeth Jolley is a writer of formidable talents and remarkable insights. Her characters are often lonely people trapped by circumstances in lives in which they seem to have little chance of improvement, but Jolley shows their desires for change and allows them the space to pursue change, despite the messes they sometimes create of their lives in the process. Ironies pervade the novel, from the song with which I open this review, sung by the repressed Miss Peabody about being “as wild as wild can bee – bee – bee” to sudden shifts in the narrative line which result from the characters’ misperceptions of the “truth” as they have witnessed it. Always there is a gentle humor within the ironies and the surprises, not at the expense of the characters so much as it is a recognition of the craziness of life itself. As the author herself says through Diana Hopewell, “Perhaps it is in writing that the writer remakes himself and his world.”

Winner of many prizes and much recognition in Australia, Elizabeth Jolley deserves to become far better known here, and few who have ever read her work have managed to stop at just one book – they are that seductive. This is my own second book by Jolley, after the unforgettable Mr. Scobie’s Riddle (on my list of Favorites for the year), but I know I will read all of them, now that Persea Books has made all of them available here in fine paperback editions, and I will parcel them out so that they always feel fresh. Both Mr. Scobie’s Riddle (1983) and Miss Peabody’s Inheritance (1983) were released by Persea in October, and both quickly became New York Times Notable Books. Three other novels, one of which is a trilogy, are already in print. This is a novelist whose books are to be savored, and the fact that both of these books were written thirty years ago and are still fresh, new, and exciting, speaks volumes for Elizabeth Jolley’s talent and her ability to speak to a large audience, even half a world away.

ALSO by Jolley:  MR. SCOBIE’S RIDDLE and     FOXYBABY

Photos, in order: The photo of the author http://ootawriters.blogspot.com

The photo of the Australian school girls appears on http://www-faculty.edfac.usyd.edu.au

The irony of Miss Thorpe going on a “relaxing” three-day vacation trip through the wheat belt in SW Australia, is seen in the commentary from this blog: “A solitary tree grows in a field of wheat in WA. Fields like this stretched for as far as our eyes could see for days and days of cycling through the wheat belt.” http://worldcyclingtour.org

The pension where Miss Thorne and her friends stayed in Vienna was in the shadow of Stephansdom, shown here:
http://www.travelgrotto.com

ARC: Persea Books

“While we are on the subject of the shamrock, what’s with the four leaves?…The Celts are polytheistic, they have many gods, Saint Patrick wants them to worship one god so he employs the shamrock to represent the Trinity; God the Father, the son, and the holy Ghost. The Trinity. Three leaves. A four-leaf shamrock isn’t a shamrock. It’s a four-leaf clover.”—Killian, annoyed, in an Irish bar in New York, on St. Patrick’s Day.

Originally from Belfast, forty-year-old Killian has tried to remake his life, having emigrated to New York City after spending his first twenty-three years in The Life in Belfast. A tinker, or Pavee, sometimes even referred to as a gypsy, Killian was involved in crimes of many varieties, including drugs, extortion, and even murder there, but he managed to get out of that life, learn to read, go to college, study history and the arts, and live a more “normal” life.  Or what he sees as normal. He still adheres to his aboriginal values:

“We [Pavee] live two lives. A life here on Earth in what we call the real world and a life in The Dreaming which is really the real world, where everything has a purpose, where we are more than thinking reeds, are part of some great scheme of things.”

Author Adrian McKinty, who grew up in Carrickfergus, Northern Ireland, before emigrating to New York City, where he lived for over five years, endows both New York and Ireland with life as he creates a sometimes likeable, though often violent main character, a man unable to abide by the rules set by governments for society, a man who, instead, lives by his own inner code and a more vengeful sense of honor and justice. Having not learned to read until he was an adult, he had no opportunity to study or explore the philosophical or academic origins of society’s laws, but

“the tinker code did not rely on paper. Your word was everything…Duty was more important than right. You fulfilled your obligations above all else. Even unto death…” Though he admits that he has read “thousands of books” since learning to read as an adult, he still believes that “You are where you came from. There are no disembodied selves…In the Pavee code of honour a life is given meaning by the narrative each narrator imposes on himself within the story.”

Pearl River, Kowloon

Unfortunately for Killian, his own story involves a real estate investment he made in Belfast which has gone bad with the economic downturn, and he is now seriously in debt. When he is contacted in New York by an old “mate” from Belfast, now relocated to Boston, to collect a debt from someone in New Hampshire, he sees this as a chance to get out of his own debt. He has no choice but to accept. In an unusual twist, he “refinances” the man’s debt and solves his own problems at the same time. Soon he is off to Kowloon to meet with Richard Coulter, an extremely wealthy and influential Irishman who wants to hire him to find his ex-wife Rachel and daughters, ages five and seven, missing or hiding somewhere in Northern Ireland. He offers an enormous sum if Killian is successful. Soon the “retired” tinker is back in Belfast and back in The Life.

For Coulter, “Everything is at stake,” as he faces a crisis so important that he has divided it into two parts. Killian’s job will end as soon as he succeeds in finding Rachel Coulter and the girls; someone else will be hired for the mysterious “real job” after that. The reader quickly discovers that Coulter’s need to find Rachel is greatly in excess of what one would normally expect in an ordinary custody dispute, though the author draws out the suspense for almost half the book, hinting early about a laptop but not revealing why this is so important – and not just to Coulter. The plot, however, remains squarely focused on Killian’s job and the search for Rachel and the girls, who are hiding in a caravan park and eventually on a remote, virtually uninhabited island in Lough Erne.

Lough Erne

As Killian searches, he is often tailed by a man from Volvograd named Markov, also called Starshyna, a violent man responsible for eight or nine gruesome murders of Mexicans, along the US/Mexico border. These nauseating murders are included, I suppose, to give a sense of just how debased and pathologically vicious Markov is, but they were so unsettling and seemingly so gratuitous that I came very close to giving up on this book. Markov has been hired for the “real job,” once Killian finds Rachel and the girls, and he is willing to do anything to Killian to ensure that he can finish the job by finding the mysterious laptop which Killian knows nothing about. And if Markov finds Rachel before Killian does, he is even better off – he will collect for both parts of the job. When the two men finally square off, Markov, having immobilized Killian, tells him, “They call me Starshyna. It means sergeant. I am what you can never be. I kill you, but you are very old man. I take pity on you. I let you live…You retire now. You are Jay Leno. I am Conan O’Brien.”

Slemish Mountain, where St. Patrick had been a slave. Near where Rachel's parents live.

Needless to say, Killian continues to try to help Rachel and her little girls, and the battle of wits between him (often violent) and Markov (even more violent and also sadistic) keeps the action moving quickly. As points of view change among Killian, Rachel, and Markov, the author also provides information about post cease-fire Ireland as Killian knows it – “drugs, new houses, and McDonald’s” – and further describes the social conditions: “In Ulster there are at least two- to three hundred convicted murderers walking the streets these days…paramilitaries who have been released under the Good Friday Agreement.” As for the tinkers and Pavees, so many of them have taken advantage of government housing that only two thousand to three thousand of them are still wanderers, though they still have their own code and culture. The social information sometimes feels a bit artificial and grafted onto the novel, but Killian’s personal illustration of the Pavee way of life makes these statements less intrusive than they might otherwise have been.

Ultimately, McKinty writes a dramatic and often shockingly dark thriller which casts new light on Northern Ireland in the aftermath of the years-long war against their counterparts to the south. The author’s inclusion of an Epilogue brings all the loose ends together and provides insights into the universal themes which the author sees in the narrative, a narrative of the real world as seen in The Dreaming.

Photos, in order: The author’s photo may be found here: http://www.irishecho.com.au

Pearl River, Kowloon, is from  http://everspringtravel.com

The Lough Erne photo of its many islands, some with few, if any inhabitants, appears on http://www.todaysgolfer.co.uk

Slemish Mountain, near Broughshane, where Rachel’s parents live.  This mountain, where St. Patrick was a slave for seven years, is considered a haunted and unlucky place. See: http://www.virtualvisit-northernireland.com

ARC:  M. Zegarek PR

Note: Mo Yan was WINNER of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2012.

“Not a single thing in this world is eternal. Take this famous garden, for instance. Two hundred years ago, when the Qing emperor built it, no one could have imagined that in the short space of two centuries it would be reduced to ruins…The marble stones in the vast halls on which the emperor and his ladies took their pleasure [back then]…may now be the rocks on which commoners have built a pigsty.”—Speaker in “Shen Garden,” referring to the Yuanming Gardens in Beijing.

This strange and sometimes eerie collection of short stories by Nobel Prize winner Mo Yan is guaranteed to stick in the minds of its readers, not just because it is wonderfully written by a man whose country is not as open to foreigners as this book is, but because its reality is so far removed from what any of us have experienced or even imagined. Seven short stories and one novella create a sometimes mystical or mysterious mood, oftentimes more akin to horror than to fantasy, a mood that is guaranteed to make readers sit up and take notice, even as they may be lulled by the “folky” and confidential attitude of several speakers as they reflect on their lives. Whether one should interpret some of the events described in this collection as dark humor, shocking dramatic irony, or simply as the reality of the various Chinese speakers and, one presumes, the author, is a question which readers will have to explore on their own. Though author Amy Tan, in a blurb on the book’s cover, suggests that “Mo Yan’s voice will find its way into the heart of the American reader, just as Kundera and Garcia Marquez have,” I suspect that many readers will react as I did – my heart was, in fact, aching, often shocked, and sometimes appalled at what passes for normal life in rural China. The residual feeling of this collection, at least for me, is not that of folk tales or fantasy, in which one can smile, amused, at the flights of imagination, but of the sometimes terrible realities which underlie these stories.

Using Northeast Gaomi Township as his setting (the fictionalized name for Dalan Township where the author lives), Mo Yan creates fast-paced narratives, describing events so specifically that even a foreigner will understand both the action and the behavior of the main characters. Nature often plays a strong part in the descriptions, suggesting that what happens to the characters is equivalent to what happens in a nature that is represented primarily by “tooth and claw.” In almost every story, the main character, no matter how honorable, is foiled by outside forces, and sometimes by nature – always a victim with little or no control over his life and destiny.

The stories begin with a seemingly light-hearted novella, “Shifu, You’ll Do Anything for a Laugh,” and become progressively more intense for the non-Chinese reader until the final story, “Abandoned Child,” explodes with its revelations of continuing horror. In the former, a good worker who has done everything right for his entire working life and has received many commendations, is suddenly terminated, along with almost everyone else at the factory where he works, and he must find a new source of income. The worker’s life is irrelevant: he is nameless and faceless. Looking for a way to earn money, he finds an abandoned school bus in the woods near the reservoir, rehabilitating it as a place for couples to have trysts, and painting it in camouflage paint. He rents it by the hour, with discounts for repeat visitors. When one tryst appears to go terribly wrong, he fears retribution and decides to confess to the authorities, with surprising and darkly comic results.

“Abandoned Child,” by contrast, is a shocking story told by a writer (of what appears to be purple prose, judging from his introduction to this story) who finds a note on a tree in the rural countryside, urging the finder to look immediately to the fields to save a human life. In a field of bright sunflowers, the writer finds an abandoned baby only a few hours old. The baby, of course, is a girl. What follows is the initial effect on the writer’s family, which has honored the One Child law, though they have longed for a son. When the writer takes the baby to authorities, the full horror of what life has in store for this abandoned baby is revealed, along with the long-term effects on this writer and his family and ultimately the country.

In between these two stories are six others which reveal much about Chinese life. In “Man and Beast,” a Chinese soldier is captured and conscripted by the invading Japanese, sent to work in Hokkaido during the early days of World War II. The conscript has witnessed atrocities committed by the Japanese against his daughter, has seen his troops slaughtered, and has watched the homes in his village burn. In a daring escape, he finds the cave of a fox in the mountains, where he lives, alone, for the next ten years. Told by the man’s grandson, the story describes someone who has become half man and half beast, and when, in a grand battle, the grandfather and a fox face off, the battle takes on symbolic overtones. “Soaring” tells of a woman who flies into a tree to escape her new husband, and the retribution taken against her by the police. “The Cure” shows that even when a man and his son, out of love for the man’s elderly mother, take terrible chances in order to find a cure for her approaching blindness, that their love can never be enough.

“Iron Child” is the strange and even terrifying story of a child forced to live in a “nursery” while his parents are conscripted to work building a nearby railroad. When the job is complete, no one comes to claim him. He connects with a fantastic “Iron Child,” one who eats iron because there is no food, another image with symbolic significance. The child’s fate, as in other stories, shows again that the individual has little or no importance. “Love Story” suggests that there is only sex, not love. And “Shen Garden,” which is told as a love story set in Beijing, illustrates the idea that “not a single thing in this world is eternal.”

The stories are fascinating to read, and though the overall impression they leave is one of sadness at the emotional and psychological horrors which rural Chinese have had to endure and adapt to, one discovers that even in Beijing there is no guarantee of happiness. In fact, happiness does not even seem to be a goal among the characters here. The writing is clear and unequivocal, and western readers cannot help but sit up and take notice of the contrasts between our cultures, and of these characters’ power of sheer endurance in the face of hardship. Highly recommended.

Also by Mo Yan: BIG BREASTS AND WIDE HIPS and    FROG

Photos, in order: The author’s photo appears on http://www.bbc.co.uk

The camouflaged bus, similar to what the speaker created, in “Shifu, You’d Do Anything for a Laugh,” is from
http://attractions.uptake.com

A fox’s cave on a cold mountain may be found here: http://arkansasstateparks.wordpress.com

The Yuanming Gardens of the Old Imperial Palace, destroyed by the British during the Second Opium War in 1860, are still visited in Beijing, though they are not restored.   http://www.kinabaloo.com

SHIFU, YOU'LL DO ANYTHING FOR A LAUGH
REVIEW. China. Book Club Suggestions, Literary, Short Stories, Social and Political Issues
Written by: Mo Yan
Published by: Arcade Publishing
ISBN: 978-1611457353
Available in: Ebook Paperback Hardcover

Kim Thuy–RU

This novel was WINNER of Canada’s Governor General’s Award for French Language Fiction in 2010.

“My parents often remind my brothers and me that they won’t have any money for us to inherit, but I think they’ve already passed on to us the wealth of their memories allowing us to grasp the beauty of a flowering wisteria, the delicacy of a word, the power of wonder. Even more, they’ve given us feet for walking to our dreams, to infinity. Which may be enough baggage to continue our journey on our own.”

Timeless in its themes and completely of the moment in its narrative voice, Kim Thuy’s Ru brings to life the innermost thoughts of one of Vietnam’s “boat people.” The author, whose family emigrated from Vietnam to Canada when she was ten, has created a vibrant novel that feels much more like a memoir than fiction, with a main character whose life so closely parallels that of the author that her publisher’s biography for her is virtually identical in its details to the factual material in the novel. Few, if any, readers will doubt that the author actually lived these events – her voice is so clear and so honest that there is no sense of artifice at all.

A series of vignettes, presented in the “random” order in which the main character, Nguyen An Tinh, appears to have remembered them, allows the author to move around through time and memory, while also allowing the reader to participate, for short moments, in events that would otherwise feel alien in time and place. The action, often dramatic, just as often reflects the quiet, loving experiences of a family’s life; descriptions of hardship and deplorable, even repulsive, conditions are balanced by the author’s ability to see beauty in small, even delicate, moments. The shocking contrasts between Nguyen’s privileged life in Saigon and her subsistence level existence upon her first arrival in Canada are presented with complete honesty and so broad a perspective that Nguyen is able to face her new life without rancor, resentment, or any sign of self-pity, and that becomes this novel’s biggest strength.

The novel opens with Nguyen An Tinh’s birth, like that of the author, in the Year of the Monkey, during the Tet (New Year) Offensive in 1968, in Saigon, “when the long chains of firecrackers draped in front of houses exploded polyphonically, along with the sound of machine guns…The skies [were] adorned with fireworks [and] decorated with garlands of light, shot through with rockets and missiles.” Ten years later, when her family finally decides to escape their war-torn country, they find themselves in the hold of a boat with two hundred other people and so little room they are essentially paralyzed. Though there is no sanitation and many sick people, they still feel grateful that they are able to escape at all, though terrified that the boat might be attacked by communists or pirates, either of which would probably kill them. After days on this boat, they arrive in Malaysia, and within fifteen minutes of their arrival, their now-empty boat sinks without warning.

Mirabel Airport, Montreal

After some weeks in a refugee camp, the family eventually arrives at Montreal’s Mirabel Airport in the winter, and Nguyen is astonished to see an ice sculpture greeting them. “After such a long time in places without light, a landscape so white, so virginal could only dazzle us, blind us, intoxicate us.” Presented with a welcoming table filled with canapés and colorful hors d’oeuvre, all of these tidbits completely unknown to her, she still realizes that “this was a place of delights, an idyllic land.” This was not all pleasure, at first, however. “I was neither deaf nor mute [but] I now had no points of reference, no tools to allow me to dream, to project myself into the future, to be able to experience the present, in the present.” With astonishing support from her teachers and the parents of the other children in her school, who invite each of the newcomers home for lunch, Nguyen recognizes their kindness and warmth, even though she has no idea how to use a fork and can not recognize any of the foods she is being served. The town’s volunteers take the family to a flea market to find mattresses and household equipment, and even help negotiate prices (though the flea market mattresses turn out to have real fleas), revealing their big hearts and desire to help, though they have no real understanding of the Vietnamese people or their culture.

Granby, where Nguyen lived, in winter

Time skips back and forth between Nguyen’s early life, her arrival in Canada, and her adulthood, as she remembers events in which people she knows experience life-changing events. A doctor wanted by the communists in Saigon buys places for each of his five children on separate boats out of Vietnam, assigning each of them to the care of a Canadian priest, hoping that some of them will survive. In their Saigon house, her father introduces the young communist soldiers who occupy it to piano music, which they have never heard before, having been conscripted as twelve-year-olds and denied any opportunity to experience the arts. In a wonderful episode which explains sympathetically how naive these young soldiers are when they must record the family’s possessions for eventual sale by the communists:  A collection of brassieres owned by the women in the family mystifies them, and they conclude that these must be coffee filters used when the women want to make two cups of coffee to share with a friend.

Traditional ao dai of Vietnam, which Nguyen rediscovers on her return to Vietnam

Dozens of other enlightening episodes are recorded here, with moments of great poignancy and sadness contrasting with lovely and loving stories that reveal character and a sense of adventure as the novel weaves back and forth in time. It is Nguyen’s sense of adventure which explains why she, in adulthood, eventually returns to Vietnam to work for three years before returning to Canada. Now, as the mother of two sons, and a professional with advanced degrees, Nguyen is determined to preserve her immigrant history for her sons – she knows that specific events like the ones she records here will never be recorded in history books. In sharing her story, the consummate story of the immigrant experience, Nguyen benefits her readers, as well. As her mother once said: “Life is a struggle in which sorrow leads to defeat.” Despite the hardships her family and other immigrants have faced, Nguyen (and one presumes, the author) looks only to the present and the future. There is no sorrow here – or self-pity. Only joy.

Photos, in order: The author’s photo is from http://www.lapresse.ca

Mirabel Airport is depicted here: http://digital-possibilities.com

Granby in the winter may be found on: http://www.northstartravel.ca

The traditional ao dai dress from Vietnam may be seen here:  http://visaforvietnam.org

ARC: Bloomsbury

RU
Review. Canada. Vietnam, Book Club Suggestions, Literary, Social and Political Issues
Written by: Kim Thuy
Published by: Bloomsbury
ISBN: 978-1608198986
Available in: Ebook Paperback Hardcover

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