The
Refugees by Viet Thanh Nguyen
Grove
Press, 2017
What
does it mean to be a refugee? You are a stranger in the country that
has, willingly or not, taken you in. You’re a stranger to the place
you’ve come from as well, where time and history continue to unfold
without your witness or participation. If you’ve left family or
friends behind, their paths will diverge from yours until they’re
as distant and unfamiliar as the people who surround you in your
adopted home.
Though
you may have memories, you can’t be sure they’re true. They might
be pure fiction, manufactured from the stories you’ve heard from
your relatives, or from the individuals who had pity on you and took
you in. You may get news from home (or what used to be home), but
that’s just likely to be falsehoods generated by pride or by fear.
You cannot necessarily trust your view of the world around you. It
might well be a facade, an illusion, or simply a misunderstanding due
to cultural differences.
To be a
refugee is to be insecure, in a fundamental way that those of us who
have always belonged to a country may find difficult to comprehend.
The Refugees by Viet Thanh Nguyen explores and lays bare that
insecurity and its consequences.
This
book of eight stories plus two moving personal essays should be
assigned reading for those segments of society who rabidly oppose
immigration. With eloquence, delicacy and beauty, the author captures
the uncertainty and the irony of a refugee life.
All but
two of the stories (“The American” and “Fatherland”) are set
in the United States and revolve around characters who escaped from
Vietnam around the end of the Vietnam war. Many of the protagonists
are young people, working to adapt to their new home, sometimes
mystified by the beliefs and behavior of the older generation.
In
contrast, the central character in “The Americans” (which was one
of my favorite tales) is an aging ex-soldier who fought in the war,
whose daughter is now coupled with a Vietnamese engineer, working for
an NGO that clears land mines. James Carver honestly can’t
comprehend why Claire is (as he sees it) sacrificing her life for the
sake of strangers, but a trip to Vietnam shows him a world he’d
only seen previously from a bomber at forty thousand feet.
In
“Fatherland”, a family in modern-day Saigon receives a visit from
the father’s daughter by a first marriage, who has been living
since her childhood in the US. Dutiful, hard-working Phuong is
simultaneously fascinated by and jealous of her glamorous, apparently
wealthy older half-sister (who’s also named “Phuong” but uses
the name “Vivien”). The relationship profoundly changes Phuong’s
beliefs and aspirations, even when she discovers that Vivien is not
who she pretends.
Another
standout is “The Transplant”. A Mexican American whose life is
saved by a liver transplant befriends the Vietnamese man who claims
to be son of the donor. In the name of friendship, Louis Vu makes
some difficult requests. This story is particularly interesting
because of the interactions between two immigrant communities, the
Mexicans and the Vietnamese.
I tend
to think of short stories as neat, well-structured gems of craft.
Viet Thanh Nguyen’s stories are anything but neat. They ramble back
and forth between past and present; they focus on seemingly
inconsequential details; they are complex and ambiguous, often
without clear resolutions of the conflicts they present.
Nevertheless, in retrospect one can see that they are meticulously
constructed to convey the multi-layered experience of the characters.
These
are not easy stories to read. They demand a great deal of the reader,
both intellectually and emotionally. That should not deter you from
getting a copy of The Refugees. There’s a kind of deep
satisfaction in truly seeing what these characters face and how they
cope. In addition, even before you read his essay “In Praise of
Doubt and Uselessness”, you will sense the depth of feeling and the
intensity of effort the author has lavished on these tales. They
deserve your attention.
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